ma'am? i do beg your pardon? pickles. i am so terribly sorry, madam. but won't the feline eventually tire of his lonely perch and, pining for his master's affection, return on his own initiative? well then couldn't we perhaps offer him kitty treats and enticements, or if not foodstuffs perhaps squeaky little toys of the kind formerly manufactured in hong kong but now produced in the other so-called "little tigers". of the pacific rim? the point bein', do we have to actually ascend the tree-- police. no need to call the authorities. i did this often as a youth -- why, i was a positive lemur. here, kitty. i wouldn't dream of it. harmless little felix domesticus. come to i thank you, madam, for your act of kindness. i certainly did and i do apologize no end. allow me to present myself, uh, formally: goldthwait higginson dorr, ph.d. beg your pardon, ma'am? no no, ph.d. is a mark of academic attainment. it is a degree of higher learning bestowed, in my case, in recognition of my mastery of the antique languages of latin and greek. i also hold a number of other advanced degrees including the baccalaureate from a school in paris, france, called the sorbonne. i have not had that privilege. that's very gener-- indeed. perhaps when my head has recovered from its. buffeting. mrs. munson, are you at all curious as to why i darkened your door, as the expression has it, on this lovely camelia-scented morn? i quite understand. the fact is that i saw the sign on your window advertising a room to let, and it is the only such sign among the houses of this charming, charming street. i quite understand. madam, you are addressing a man who is quiet -- and yet not quiet, if i may offer a riddle. perhaps you can show me the room, mrs. munson, and allow me to explain. you see, madam, i am currently on sabbatical from the institution where i teach -- the university of mississippi at hattiesburg. i am taking a year off to indulge my passion -- i don't believe that is too strong a word -- for the music of the renaissance. i perform in -- and have the honor of directing -- a period instrument ensemble that performs at renaissance fairs and other cultural fora. thoo-out central and southern mississippi. we perform on the instruments for which the music was originally composed, in the belief that. that. why, this is lovely. the word "band" would be, in this context, something of an anachronism. though we do play together -- hence the word "ensemble" -- the nature of the music is such that one would hesitate to apply the epithet "band" with its connotations of jangling rhythm and ear-popping amplification. madam, i shudder. i quake. the revulsion i feel for modern popular music, and all other manifestations of contemporary decay, is, i have no doubt, the equal of y'own. why, we play music that was composed to the greater glory of god. devotional music. church music. well-inspired by the gospels, certainly. the vintage, of course, is no more recent than the rococo. but i certainly don't propose to inflict our rehearsals on you. may i enquire -- do you have a root cellar? yes, yes, yes, this looks promising. oh, indeed, but that only improves the acoustics. marvelous. these earthen walls are ideal for baffling the higher registers of the, uh, lute and, uh, sackbutt. that's why so much music of the cinquecento was played in crypts and catacombs. yes, this will do nicely. this is perfect. this is more than perfect. i can scarcely contain my glee. allow me to pay you a week in advance. allow me to pay you two weeks in advance. allow me to pay you a month in advance. i cannot countenance the thought of these charming apartments being tenanted by someone unappreciative of their special je ne sais quoi. my dear mrs. munson, i do so hope this is not an inopportune time for our first practice-- i beg your-- oh! no no, no bereavement, though it is so kind of you to enquire. no, the hearse is simply a vehicle commodious enough to accommodate all of the members of our ensemble. and of course our instruments, contrived in an age ignorant of miniaturization. let me introduce you to my friends, my colleagues, these devoted and passionate musicians. this is gawain macsam, our bassoonist. general nguyen pham doc, viola da gamba. clark pancake -- a multi- instrumentalist, but with his remarkable embosser clark specializes in wind instruments, and is especially accomplished on the french horn. and, finally, aloysius "lump" hudson. lump is our sackbuttist and -- thank you, lump -- i see you've also brought my fiddle. oh no. oh no no no no no. no, we shall recuse ourselves to the basement where we shall be -- i think here the expression is uniquely appropriate. as quiet as the crypt. what do you think, general? present any problems? good then. all right, gentlemen, why don't we all crowd around and go over the plan. this, gentlemen, is the lady luck, gambling den, cash cow, sodom of the mississippi delta -- and the focus of our little exercise. here is orchard street. and here is the residence of marva munson, the charming lady whom y'all met moments ago. gentlemen. you. are. here. now. this brings us to this square. gentlemen, i believe you are all aware that the solons of the state of mississippi, to wit, its legislature, have decreed that no gaming establishment shall be erected within its borders upon dry land. they may, however, legally float upon any watercourse defining a state boundary. but while the gambling activity itself is restricted to riverboats, no such restriction applies to the functions ancillary to this cash besotted bidnis. the casino's offices, locker rooms, facilities to cook and clean, and most importantly its counting houses- the reinforced, secret, and super secure repositories of the lucre -- may all be situated. wherever. gawain -- where is wherever? where is the money? and where is the counting room? and what, to flog a horse that if not at this point dead is in mortal danger of expirin', does the dotted square represent? underground. mmm. during the casino's hours of operation the door to the counting room is fiercely guarded, and the door itself is of redoubtable pittsburgh steel; when the casino is closed the entire underground complex is locked up and the armed guard retreats to the casino's main entrance. there, then, far from the guard, reposes the money, cosseted behind a five-inch-thick steel portal, yes, but the walls, gentlemen, the walls of that room, are but humble masonry, behind which is only the soft loamy soil deposited over the centuries by ol' man, the meanderin' mississip', as it fanned its way back and forth across this great alluvial plain. this earth. any questions? yes, lump? the general here, whose curriculum vitae compahends massive tunneling experience thoo the soil of his native french-indochina, will direct our little ol' tunnelin' operation. clark pancake, while a master of none, is a jack of all those trades corollary to our aim. he will be doin' such fabricatin' and demolition work as our little caper shall require. gawain is the proverbial "inside man". he has managed to secure a berth on the custodial staff of the lady luck, thereby placin' himself in a position to perform certain chores whose precise nature needn't detain us here, but whose performance shall guide this expedition to its happy conclusion. and this brings us to lump. to look at lump you might wonder, what function could he possibly fill, what specialized expertise could he possibly offer, to our merry little ol' band a miscreants. well gentlemen, in a project of such magnitude and such risks, it is traditional -- nay, it is imperative -- to enlist the services of a hooligan, a goon, an ape, a physical brute, who will be our security, our fist, our batterin' ram. lump is our blunt instrument, and on all our behalfs i wish him a warm mississippi welcome. well gentlemen, here you are, men of different backgrounds and differing talents, men with, in fact only two things in common: one, you all saw fit to answer my little advertisement in the memphis scimitar, and, two, you are all going to be, in consequence, very very incredibly rich. let us revel in our adventure, gentlemen. let us make beautiful music together. and above all, gentlemen, let us keep it to ourselves. what we say in this root cellar, let it stay in this root cellar. lump has a very excellent point. no no, madam, we were about to take a break anyway. the glissandi on this particular piece are technically very demanding and i think we would all welcome a moment of relaxation. sadly, gawain is given to-- as well you should, ma'am. but gawain at times is so far transported by his love of the music of the early renaissance as to-- i understand your-- certainly not, madam. i understand your indignation. and i was offering explanation, not excuse. i myself am offended by those who cannot find the proper words to express themselves and have recourse to-- yes, yes. a fiery lad! but then youth is fiery! a fact often remarked upon by the poets of the romantic era. did he? oh, i am indeed-- ah. indeed not. i don't suppose othar ever turned his hand -- or, uh, heh-heh-heh, turned his lip -- to the shofar? the ceremonial ram's horn, sounded by the priests of the hebrews? oh my. oh my my my my my. this is a severe setback. i am distraught. i am more than distraught, i am devastated. oh my, this is quite the monkey-wrench heaved into the meticulously engineered construct of our little escapade. i am beside myself. i am at a positive loss for words. oh madam, we must have waffles. we must all have waffles forthwith! oh we must think. we must all have waffles and think, each and every one of us to the very best of his ability! perhaps if you apologized to the man and gave him flowers, or perhaps a fruit basket, with a card depicting a misty seascape and inscribed with a sentiment. well then, perhaps, surely, a chocolate assortment has been known to warm the heart of even the most hardened misanthrope, especially if it's a premium chocolate, imported, say, from switzerland, or the netherlands, or some other of the so- called "low" countries be they dutch or flemish or walloon-- oh my my, it seems that the poet was right: troubles never singly come. i confess myself to be puzzled as well. i thought we all understood that, so far as our little enterprise is concerned, mum, as the saying would have it, is the word-- gentlemen, please! gentlemen, this sort of behavior does you no credit in the eyes of your colleagues, or in those of the other patrons of this waffle house! gentlemen, i propose that we consider the matter of this woman, mountain water, to be-- i am so very sorry. i propose that we consider this matter to be closed, and we shall chose to trust her, since we now have no choice, and since she shall share only in mr. pancake's portion of the booty. gentlemen! and the manner of disposing of our igneous impediment is also settled. that leaves only the question of gawain retrieving his job. yes yes, i must confess, madam, that often i feel more at home in these ancient volumes than i do in the hustle-bustle of our modern world. to me, paradoxically, the literature of the so-called "dead tongues" has more currency than this mornin's newspaper. in these books. in these volumes, there is the accum'lated wisdom a mankind which succours me when the day is hard or the night lonely and long. oh yes, the good book, mm. i have found reward in its pages. but for me there are other good books as well; the heavy volumes of antiquity, freighted with the insights of man's glorious age. and then of course i love, love, love the works of mr. ed g'allan poe. oh no, madam, noooo. not of this world, true; he lived in a dream, an ancient dream. "helen, they beauty is to me like those nicean barks a yore that gently, o'er a perfumed sea, the weary, wayworn wanderer bore to his own native shore. " one doesn't know who helen was, though i picture her as bein' very, very extremely. pale. miz munson, i was tryin' to think of some way of expressin' my gratitude to you for takin' in. this weary, wayworn wanderer. it's just a modest little ol' present, why it's practically nothing at all. oh no madam, i blush. i melt. no, i just happened to hear of this gospel concert tomorrow night, the mighty mighty clouds of joy, and i thought you and a friend from church, perhaps. the concert is up in memphis, but i have arranged for a car service to transport you thither and, needless to say, back home at the concert's termination. my friends and i will be rehearsing here tomorrow evening so you needn't worry about the security of your charming little old house. well that was very. refreshing. as you know. we academics are inordinately fond of wedgin' ourselves into confined spaces. at yale the students will see how many of their number they can enclose in a telephone booth; harvard, a broom closet. there was the goldfish-swallowin' craze, of course, a different but related phenomenon. ahem. i hope i didn't spill any tea. yes, madam? oh madam, you are too kind. our music, however, is -- how shall i put it? -- rather roman in its outlook; many of our pieces were commissioned by the holy see. indeed. excuse me, one moment, ma'am, and i shall see you off. if you gentlemen can labor harmoniously in the course of my absence, then perhaps upon my return we shall be prepared to explode that vexin' ol' piece a igneous. well of course in my youth i was simply known as goldthwait. i remember my father telling me -- and it is one of the few memories i retain of the man, from one of his visits home, and how i do cherish it -- he said, "goldthwait, you are not formed as other little boys." g.h. number two was self-educated; he had no career, as such, though the state recognized the breadth of his readin' by making him librarian at the state nervous hospital in meridian, where he was a distinguished inmate. i'm. quite sure. that there is. no cause for alarm. why, i'm not even absolutely certain that i heard anything at all. well, something, perhaps, but. nothing that need discompose us, was the sense i was trying to convey. miz munson, i will not have you missing your musical recital. why, you go ahead now. miz funthes, you as well, i beg of you. i shall call the gas company, or the water company, or whatever subterranean utility is implicated in this little. occurrence. i shall see to the matter. as only a highly educated classicist could. i gather there was a premature detonation-- i propose that we get our fallen comrade to the hospital, and the general shall follow when he manages to recover the severed digit. the house is perfectly in order, but we need medical attention for mr. pancake who, during the disturbance, pinched his finger in a valve of the sackbutt. the general is even now exercising every effort to retrieve your mischievous little pet. please go, go and enjoy your concert, and we shall see you later in the evening. au revoir, mes dames! despite our little setback we find ourselves on schedule to penetrate the vault. here, this afternoon, having successfully blasted that little ol' rock to pieces during miz munson's choir practice. clark, perhaps you can run us through the game plan for what remains of our tunnelin'. and will you be able to wield the drill with your maimed extremity? yes, clark? yes but you see, clark, this is not what you just called "some other line of work." this is a criminal enterprise, not to put too fine a point on it, entailin' all manner a risks not involved in honest labor. governmental regulations an' civic safeguards cannot be assumed to apply to antisocial pursuits. i think that in this instance gawain has a very excellent point. i-- now that that matter is settled, let us synchronize our watches before gawain reports to work. in. twenty seconds. it will be twelve-sixteen exactly. fifteen. no, in fifteen seconds -- now eleven seconds -- it will be twelve- sixteen. eight. six. five -- yes, lump? welcome back, gentlemen, mission accomplished i see. i am so very very delighted. congratulations. congratulations. i have some cold duck on ice for the occasion. gentlemen, to we few. we who have shared each other's company, each other's care, each other's joy, and who now reap the fruits of our communal effits, shoulder to shoulder, from each accordin' to his abilities so forth whatnot. we have had our little diffences along the way, it's true, but i like to think they have only made us value one another the more, each coming to understand and appreciate the other's unique qualities, potencies, and, yes, foibles. i suggest that we shall look back upon this caper one day, one distant day, grandchildren dandled upon our knee, and perhaps a tear will form, and we shall say, well, with wit, and grit, and no small amount of courage, we accomplished something on that day, a feat of derring-do, an enterprise not ignoble -- we, merry band, unbound by the constraints of society and the prejudices of the common ruck, we happy few. gentlemen -- to us! i do beg your pardon? well that time, and more, has most certainly elapsed. i need not remind you of the importance of obliterating any trace of a connection between the vault and this house. it was of the essence of this plan that it should appear that the money had simply vanished. without a trace. spirited away, as it were, by ghosts. the conundrum of the undisturbed yet empty vault, the unsolvable riddle of the sealed yet violated sanctum, is of the utmost importance not only to make our caper innelectually satisfying. it is also exigent as a matter of practical fact: i remind you that if a tunnel is ever found leading to this house, this house's owner knows all of your names. therefore -- to draw the unavoidable conclusion -- someone shall have to reenter the tunnel to reset that charge. properly speaking, madam, we have been surprised; you are taken aback. though i acknowledge that the sense you intend is gaining currency through increasing use. you have returned from your devotions betimes. yes. yes. well, first, my dear boy, we follow the general's example. and refrain from panic. secondly, we cooly, calmly, collectedly think. think. hsst. madam. mrs. munson, if i might have a word. i assure you i shall be-- she shall be down shortly. tea. dainties. yes, lump? madame -- or rather, mesdames -- you will have to accept our apologies for failing to perform since, as you see, we are shorthanded. gawain is still at work and we could no more play with one part tacit than a horse could canter shy one leg. perhaps i could offer as a poor but ready substitute a brief poetic recital. though i don't pretend to great oratorical skills, i will happily present, with your ladies' permission, verse from the unquiet mind of mr. ed g'allan poe. "ladies, thy beauty is to me like those nicean barks of yore" "that gently, o'er a perfumed sea the weary, wayworn wanderer bore to his own native shore. " "on desperate seas long wont to roam, thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face, thy naiad airs have brought me home to the glory that was greece and the grandeur that was rome. " goodbye, ladies. we had such a pleasant time. yes indeed, and the thirst for knowledge is a very commendable thing. though in this instance, i believe when you hear the explanation, you will laugh riotously, slappin' your knee and perhaps even wipin' away a giddy tear, relieved of your former concern. you see lump here is an enthusiastic collector of indian arrowheads and, having found one simply lying on your cellar floor, a particularly rare artifact of the natchez tribe, he enlisted us in an all-out effort to sift through the subsoil in search of others. well, in doing so, we apparently hit a motherlode of natural gas -- i myself became acutely aware of the smell of "rotten eggs" -- and it was at just this unfortunate moment that the general here violated one of the cardinal rules of this house and lit himself a cigarette. ah. the money. the money is. mr. pancake's. he only just re-mortgaged his house in order to pay for the procedure that will correct the wandering eye of his common-law wife, mountain water, who suffers from astygmia and strabismus and a general curdling of the vitreous jelly. mr. pancake however is an ardent foe of the federal reserve and is in fact one of those eccentrics about whom one occasionally reads, hoarding his entire life savings either under the proverbial mattress or, as in mr. pancake's case, in a hefty bag that is his constant companion. steel sack. madam -- if you please. yes! yes! it was a lie! a fantastic tale! you have us! dead to rights! but please allow me to tell you the truth -- in private. madam. what i am about to reveal to you, you may find. shocking. mrs. munson, i must tell you that we are not. what we appear. we are not in fact musicians of the late renaissance. nor of the early or mid period. we are, in fact. criminals! desperate men, madam! we have tunneled into the nearby offices of the lady luck gambling emporium and have relieved it of its treasure! it is true that the lady luck is a den of iniquity, a painted harlot luring people into sin and exciting the vice of greed with her false promise of easy winnings. oh, her gains are ill-gotten, yes, but i offer no excuses -- save one! we men have each pledged half of our share of the booty to a charitable institution -- the general, to a placement service for southeast asian refugees; mr. pancake to the blue ridge parkway conservancy; and lump to the united jewish appeal. as compensation for use of your house we had planned to donate a full share to bob jones university, without burdening you with guilty knowledge by informing you of same. but you have wrested the information from me! now it is all on the table. now you have it, the whole story, the awful truth. yes, yes, shamefully i admit it, yes! but find the victim, mrs. munson, i challenge you! even the casino itself, that riparian gomorra, shall suffer no harm! it has an insurance company, a financial behemoth that will cheerfully replenish its depleted vaults! that is its function! and the insurance company itself is made up of tens and tens of thousands of policy-holders so that -- we have done the calculations, mrs. munson! -- so that at the end of the day, at the final reckoning, each policy- holder shall have contributed only one penny -- one single solitary cent -- to the satisfaction of this claim. think of it, mrs. munson! one cent from thousands upon thousands of people so that bob jones university can continue on its mission! why, i have no doubt that, were the policy- holders aware of the existence of that august institution, why, each and every one of them would have volunteered some token amount to the furtherance of its aims! yes madam, sadly, the criminal stain is upon my soul, but the benefit shall accrue to any number of worthy causes. as long, that is, as the secret stays with us. and i, surely, shall not be the one to divulge it. excuse me, ma'am? madam, i must strenuously protest-- madam-- and. engage in divine worship? but-- yes. unfortunately, mrs. munson has rather complicated the situation-- not easy to do. many reasons. practical ones: a quiet neighborhood, a sleepy town. reasons of moral repugnance: a harmless woman, a deed conceived and executed in cold blood. no, gawain; would that it were simple! i shudder. i quake. you sir, are a buddhist. is there not a middle way? well. i suppose you are right. it is the active nature of the crime, though, that so horrifies -- the squeezing of the trigger, the plunging of the knife. but, think a moment -- look at the other tools we have at hand. we have the cellar. we have masonry and trowel. perhaps we could simply. immure her. ahh but gentlemen, we delude ourselves. think of the woman's piteous moans as we lay tier upon tier of brick. think of her lamentations as we fit the last brick into place, appealing to our better selves, the higher angels of our nature, our recollections of our own sainted mothers. no, i fear that we lack the sand to commit such an act. no. no. shortest and most painless is best. let us confront reality. gawain's gun. the retort muffled by a pillow. into the brain. the affair of an instant. the only question is. who wields the weapon. i believe it is traditional, in such circumstances, to draw straws. gentlemen, no special pleading, no exceptions. it's in the nature of the situation that we would all prefer to be excused. why. this is most. irregular. my my, this is most irregular. i'm afraid that mr. pancake is right, my dear fellow. we cannot draw straws again; the exercise loses all credibility if you show that the loser can simply beg off doing the job. gentlemen, please! oh my. well this is most irregular. we will need a hefty bag. she is in the kitchen. i shall distract her while you steal out with the carcass. well, my dear mrs. munson, i have outlined your position to my colleagues and i now return to you to return our collective verdict. there was much spirited discussion and an atmosphere of frank give-and- take. some of our number were initially appalled at your proposal that we simply return the money; some were more receptive. and that attitude, madam, was a factor in our discussions. to a man, i must say, they were devastated at the prospect of not being able to contribute to their respective charities. indeed. but at the end of the day, your position prevailed, and the men have decided that we shall return the money -- every last cent of it! -- and attend sunday services, rather than spend the remainder of our years wasting away in the mississippi men's correctional facility. though that was the original preference of some. so the money shall be returned tomorrow at the opening of the casino office. enjoy your tea, madam. and congratulations on having recalled to the fold five poor, confused sheep who had momentarily strayed. yes. yes, they just arrived. what in heaven's name. general! ". like those nicean barks of yore that gently, o'er a perfumed sea" ". the weary, wayworn wanderer bore. " ". to his own native shore." excellent. i believe, at last, we have the right man for the job. t'was our at brought us to this pass. our overweening pride. the old woman is a more potent antagonist than one had imagined. now, lump, i'm afraid it falls to you to finish the job. the comedy must end. oh dear. oh dear oh dear oh dear. oh dear, lump. i feared that those would be your words. not that i don't appreciate your giving the matter the benefit of your thought. but please recall, young man, our respective functions in this enterprise. i am a professor, the professor as you yourself so often say, the thinker, the "brains of the operation," trained in fact in the arts of cogitation. you, lump, are the goon, the hooligan, the dumb brute whose actions must be directed by a higher intelligence. no buts, dear boy! do not repeat the error of thinking! now is the moment of praxis! now, my dear boy, you must act! think of the riches, lump, that you and i alone shall divide! recall the dream of wealth untold that first drew you to this enterprise! and reflect also that if you decline to act, forcing me to do so, then you shall no longer have any entitlement to the money! your offices shall have been nugatory! of course! my hand would be forced! you?! allow? not allow? what presumption! you stupid boy! you very very extremely stupid boy! perhaps. it had to be thus. ". lo, in yon brilliant window-niche how statue-like i see thee stand" hm. a raven? ". the agate lamp within thy hand. " ah, psyche! from the regions which are holy land!"