The Vilbar Party

girdle. "You'll bethere at five sharp, won't you, dear?"

  "Delighted," he promised dismally. He could hardly plead a previousengagement a moment after arriving.

  "I've tried to get all the things you like to eat," she went onanxiously, "but you will tell me if there's anything special, won'tyou?"

  "I am on a diet," he said. He must be strong. Probably the food would berepulsive anyhow, so he'd have no difficulty controlling his appetite."Digestive disorders, you know. A glass of Vichy and a biscuit willbe...."

  He stopped, for there were tears in Mrs. Purrington's eyes. "Your tummyhurts? Oh, you poor little darling!"

  "Gladys!" the President said sharply.

  There were frismil nuts at Mrs. Purrington's cocktail party and vilbarand even slipnis broogs ... all imported at fabulous expense, Narliknew, but then this was a government affair and expense means nothing toa government since, as far as it is concerned, money grows on taxpayers.Some of the native foods proved surprisingly palatable, too--pate defoie gras and champagne and little puff pastries full of delightfulsurprises. Narli was afraid he was making a zloogle of himself. However,he thought, trying not to catch sight of his own portly person in themirrors that walled the room, the lean days were just ahead.

  Besides, what could he do when everyone insisted on pressing food onhim? "Try this, Professor Gzann." "Do try that, Professor Gzann."("Doesn't he look cunning in his little dress suit?") They crowdedaround him. The women cooed, the men beamed, and Narli ate. He would beglad when he could detach himself from all this cloying diplomacy andget back to the healthy rancor of the classroom.

  * * * * *

  At school, the odor of chalk dust, ink and rotting apple cores wasenough like its Saturnian equivalent to make Narli feel at homeimmediately. The students would dislike him on sight, he knew. It is inthe nature of the young to be hostile toward whatever is strange andalien. They would despise him and jeer at him, and he, in his turn,would give them long, involved homework assignments and such difficultexaminations that they would fail....

  Narli waddled briskly up to his desk which had, he saw, been scaled downto Saturnian size, whereas he had envisioned himself strugglingtriumphantly with ordinary Earth-sized, furniture. But the atmospherewas as hot and sticky and intolerable as he had expected. Panting asunobtrusively as possible, he rapped with his pointer. "Attention,students!"

  Now should come the derisive babble ... but there was a respectfulsilence, broken suddenly by a shrill feminine whisper of, "Oooo, he's soadorable!" followed by the harsh, "Shhh, Ava! You'll embarrass the poorlittle thing."

  Narli's face swelled. "I am your new professor of Saturnian Studies.Saturn, as you probably know, is a major planet. It is much larger andmore important than Earth, which is only a minor planet."

  The students obediently took this down in their notebooks. Theycarefully took down everything he said. Even a bout of coughing thatafflicted him half-way through seemed to be getting a phonetictranscription. From time to time, they would interrupt his lecture withquestions so pertinent, so well-thought out and so courteous that all hecould do was answer them.

  His antennae lifted to catch the whispers that from time to time wereexchanged between even the best-behaved of the students. "Isn't heprecious?" "Seems like a nice fellow--sound grasp of his subject.""Sweet little thing!" "Unusually interesting presentation." "Doesn't heremind you of Winnie the Pooh?" "Able chap." "Just darling!"

  After class, instead of rushing out of the room, they hovered around hisdesk with intelligent, solicitous questions. Did he like Earth? Was hisdesk too high? Too low? Didn't he find it hot with all that fur? Suchlovely, soft, fluffy fur, though. "Do you mind if I stroke one of yourpaws--_hands_--Professor?" ("So cuddly-looking!")

  He said yes, as a matter of fact, he was hot, and no, he didn't mindbeing touched in a spirit of scientific investigation.

  He had a moment of uplift at the teachers' cafeteria when he discoveredlunch to be virtually inedible. The manager, however, had beendistressed to see him pick at his food, and by dinner-time adistinguished chef with an expert knowledge of Saturnian cuisine hadbeen rushed from Washington. Since the school food was inedible for allintelligent life-forms, everyone ate the Saturnian dishes and praisedNarli as a public benefactor.

  * * * * *

  That night, alone in the quiet confines of his small room at the Men'sFaculty Club, Narli had spread out his notes and was about to start workon his history when there was a knock at the door. He trotted over toopen it, grumbling to himself.

  The head of his department smiled brightly down at him. "Some of us aregoing out for a couple of drinks and a gabfest. Care to come along?"

  Narli did not see how he could refuse and still carry the Saturnian'sburden, so he accepted. Discovering that gin fizzes and Alexanders wereeven more palatable than champagne and more potent than vilbar, he toldseveral Saturnine locker-room stories which were hailed with loudmerriment. But he was being laughed _at_, not _with_, he knew. All thisfalse cordiality, he assured himself, would die down after a couple ofdays, and then he would be able to get back to work. He must curb hisintellectual impatience.

  In the morning, he found that enrollment in his classes had doubled, andthe room was crowded to capacity with the bright, shining, eager facesof young Terrestrials athirst for learning. There were apples,chocolates and imported frismil nuts on his desk, as well as a pressinginvitation from Mrs. Purrington for him to spend all his weekends andholidays at the White House. The window was fitted with anair-conditioning unit which, he later discovered, his classes hadchipped in to buy for him, and the temperature had been lowered to apoint where it was almost comfortable. All the students wore coats.

  When he went out on the campus, women--students, teachers, evenstrangers--stopped to talk to him, to exclaim over him, to touch him,even to kiss him. Photographers were perpetually taking pictures, someof which turned up in the Student Union as full-color postcards. Theysold like Lajl out of season.

  Narli wrote in Saturnian on the back of one: "Having miserable time; beglad you're not here," and sent it to Slood.

  There were cocktail parties, musicales and balls in Narli's honor. Whenhe tried to refuse an invitation, he was accused of shyness andvirtually dragged to the affair by laughing members of the faculty. Heput on so much weight that he had to buy a complete new Terrestrialoutfit, which set him back a pretty penny. As a result, he had toaugment his income by lecturing to women's clubs. They slobberedappallingly.

  * * * * *

  Narli's students did all their homework assiduously and, in fact, put inmore work than had been assigned. At the end of the year, not only didall of them pass, but with flying colors.

  "I hope you'll remember, Professor Gzann," the President of theUniversity said, "that there will always be a job waiting for youhere--a non-exchange professorship. Love to have you."

  "Thank you," Narli replied politely.

  Mrs. Purrington broke into loud sobs when he told her he was leavingEarth. "Oh, I'll miss you so, Narli! You will write, won't you?"

  "Yes, of course," he said grimly. That made two hundred and eighteenpeople to whom he'd had to promise to write.

  It was fortunate he was traveling as a guest of the North Americangovernment, he thought as he supervised the loading of his matchedinterplanetary luggage; his eight steamer baskets; his leather-bound_Encyclopedia Terrestria_, with his name imprinted in gold on eachvolume; his Indian war-bonnet; his oil painting of the President; andhis six cases of champagne--all parting gifts--onto the liner. Otherwisethe fee for excess luggage would take what little remained of his bankaccount. There had been so many expenses--clothes and hostess gifts andice.

  Not all his mementoes were in his luggage. A new rare-metal watchgleamed on each of his four furry wrists; a brand-new trobskin wallet,platinum key-chain, and uranium fountain pen were in his pocket; and adiamond and curium bauble clasped a tie lovingly handpaint
ed by a femalestudent. The argyles on his fuzzy ankles had been knitted by another.Still another devoted pupil had presented him with a hand-woven plasticcase full of frismil nuts to eat on the way back.

  * * * * *

  "Well, Narli!" Slood said, his face swelling with joy. "Well, well!You've put on weight, I see."

  Narli dropped into his old chair with a sigh. Surely Slood might havepicked something else to comment on first--his haggardness, forinstance, or the increased spirituality of his expression.

  "Nothing else to do on Earth in your leisure moments but eat, Isuppose," Slood said, pushing over the nut tray. "Even their