'He's getting edgy,' the ganzer egg said. 'You better have a shot at it.'

'Perhaps you could do it for us,' Otis suggested.

'I'm no fag,' the ganzer egg sneered. 'If you want to speak, you'll have to speak for yourselves.'

'The only poem I can remember from school is the Rubá'iyát,' Marvin said.

'Well, go to it,' the ganzer egg said.

Marvin thought, twitched, and nervously said:

'Very shaky,' whispered the ganzer egg. 'But not bad for a first attempt.' (Otis was giggling, and Marvin clouted him with his tail.)

The Hermit replied:

More quickly now, Marvin replied:

The Hermit said:

Marvin stepped forward, saying:

Otis, who had been restraining his giggles through all this, now said: 'Hey! Were you saying something about me?'

'I certainly was,' Marvin said. 'You'd better start versifying if you want to get out of here.'

'Well, rats, you're doing it for both of us.'

'Nope. The Hermit just said you have to speak for yourself.'

'My God, what'll I do? Otis muttered. 'I don't know any poetry.'

'You better think of something,' the ganzer egg said.

'Well … all I can remember is a little Swinburne which some goopey girl talked to me once. It's pretty stupid stuff.'

'Let's hear it,' Marvin said.

Otis sweated and swotted, and at last intoned:

The Hermit said:

Marvin said:

The Hermit said:

And so they proceeded in sing-song fashion to the Hermit's hut, where they saw, hidden away under some sheets of bark, an illegal Mindsender, of an ancient and curious design. And Marvin learned that there was method in even the direst madness. For the Hermit had been on this planet for less than a year, and already had made a considerable fortune by smuggling refugees to the less savoury labour markets of the galaxy.

It was not ethical, but as the Hermit put it:

A small amount of time passed. A job for Otis Dagobert had not been difficult to find. Despite his protestations to the contrary, the young man showed a small but very promising streak of sadism. Accordingly, the Hermit had Swapped him into the mind of a dental assistant on Prodenda IX. That planet, just to the left of the South Ridge stars if you come by way of Procyon, had been settled by a group of Terrans who felt strongly about fluorine, despising this chemical group as though it were the devil itself. On Prodenda IX they could live fluorine-free, with the assistance of many dental architects, as they were called.

The ganzer egg wished Marvin the best of good fortune and rolled off into the forest.

'And now,' the Hermit said, 'we come to the problem of you. It seems to me, considering your personality quite objectively, that you have a definite aptitude as a victim.'

'Me?' Marvin asked.

'Yes, you,' the Hermit replied.

'A victim?'

'Definitely a victim.'

'I'm not so sure.' Marvin replied. He stated it that way out of politeness; actually, he was quite sure the Hermit was wrong.

'Well, I'm sure,' the Hermit said. 'And I dare say I've had more experience in job placement than you.'

'I suppose you have … I notice that you are no longer speaking in verse.'

'Of course not,' the Hermit said. 'Why should I?'

'Because earlier,' Marvin said, 'you had been speaking only in verse.'

'But that was entirely different,' the Hermit said. 'I was outside then. I had to protect myself.'

'But what about now?'

'Now I am in my house and therefore quite safe. I have no need for the protective language of verse.'

'Does verse really protect you outside?' Marvin asked.

'It certainly does. I have lived on this planet for over a year, hunted by two murderous races who would kill me on sight if they could find me. And in that time I have suffered no harm whatsoever. What do you think about that?'

'Well, it's very fine, of course. But how do you know it's your language that protects you?'

'I infer it,' the Hermit said. 'It seems a reasonable enough assumption.'

'Yes, sir,' Marvin said. 'But I don't quite see the relationship between your language and your safety.'