4.

Campaign of Official Terrer

nd there came there out a decree from outen the Kudtblaid Highstool that singers must trill of fear, and seers must see fear, and sayers must say, Fear, and prophets

must prophecsy fear, and bakers must bake a fearsome batch.  More over (runneth the decree), Men must don masqs and go in stealth unto their homes, of sudden entering in and there causing pannick with their famlies.  All, for that Greasius wud not to be the sad-excepted, the strange

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one, the worrylord among bravertons.  And a thousant priests were calld to actien, for to cast damnatien upon smuglin souls, that the valleys ring with the terrer wails of the many fresh singld out & damnd.  And witches made of corn’s cobbvs were put upon the banks beside moist rivers, that fear transport along upon men in boats.

            And came there then an ancillarial terror decree, that those bakers making fearsum batches, they must wed some ergot into every hundredth loaf, that fear might the more abundant attach unto sustenance its self.

            But, saith Greasius unto his dreadful expediters and creepling priests, Give not the peopol to think that mighty Greasius their Kudtblaid feareth any thing, whether by unitary fright-item or the season’s whole blend of terrors.  Nor think it your selfs, as nor do I think it my self; for there is no place for fear in the Kudtblaidy that I see my self running.  (Now, this were his disclaimer of fear that he given; but every one near, being held awake of night by his drifting cries, was innerly ridiculis of disclaimer.)

            And all those reputed fearless, such as those hiding in faiths, were coaxt into the terror traps and humbld with tactics.  And the trapmaster saith unto his catch, Thou shalt be pent in a cabinet, with but an empty bowl to enmind thee of thy life.  And thou mayst to depart these diggs only when that thou hast fill-ed thy bowl with tears.

            But bowls were filld in other ways.  And the trapmaster, hands full with his exsploding load of duties, was officielly deceivd; and offisially stampft he releaseage.  Roll them in, saith he, And roll them out.  [Tho, being as a practicol man, sure, he hath better than officiol sight, and cud to have blewn an whissel.  Yet, he suscribeth unto the immutabol flow of the cosmologic constant that saith, Alway the slick will slide.  ’Twas in deed the code by which he him self hath got along; for there was much about duty that he choos-ed not to do.] 

            Now, Greasius alloweth that his terror trapfs might to be casted in harsh light by objecktovists, hap engendring polititic dissentia, and passion forums, and this & that.  But he sticketh by his spears, saying, Well, my little discomfert—which, I swear, is no fear—edgeth me into the modicum of off-judgment here & there; for that vapour which is upon me hath not muche to do with reason.  This terrortrappy, ’tis one instance.  Another was the wolfs I did post to guard my dwindling flocks.  In mine own defense I plead, that I was losing sheepf!  Can then I blame-ed be, for granting unto Trust a chance?  (Aiiee; ne’er again for Trust.)  Nevertheless, I am Kudtblaid—yea again, I AM KUDDTBLAIDE(!)—and e’en my ditsiest designs ride fourfold headier than the grandest motiens of other men, I suppose.  E’en so shall ye all suppose it.

            And after a time, Greasius—who, daunted by fear of assassonasien, hath command-petitiond the Namedrake to give over to him a name new and strong, which name in the universol tungue were The Peopel’s Hatchet—now declareth that the peasantry shud shriek, night upon day.  And the shrieking that they shud render up must bring them nigh unto a burstage of lungue.  And a time were upon the land, to flee or to comply.  And the most, being peaceabol, were full of concessien; and they complied, and lo, many bursten inside and died.  And TP Hatchett went before their famlies, consoling them, saying, Wud that I cud have foreseen’t; I might have preventnd it.

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            But the famlies heard not the consolings of their Hatchet, amid the loudness of their own programmes of requisite shriekage in his presence.  And at last, such many of shrieking subjecks poppt & died that The Peopol’s Hatchet dwellt in a Hatchetry (and a Kudtblaidy) of carrion.  And his fear only multiplext:  two, six, six-point-some, ninety hunnerts billiens—after this fashien, e’en crossing upon numbers claimd by the devil, and hap unto the Mothernumber her self, which was discoverd on Mars.