Half an hour later the reciter concluded his report. The reporters turned over their cassettes, and the chil-
109
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WITH FRIENDS LIKE THESE . . .
dren shifted in their seats. The fortunate bee had escaped.
“Mr. Fowler, if there is no other new business, this committee can proceed to the matter of this year’s final appropriations, and we can wind up this meeting early,”
“Beg your pardon, Madam Senator, but there is the outstanding question of my forma! request for a temporary gate in the season’s Pacific Coast sardine take.’* One of the other senators groaned. “Really, Mr. Fowler,” admonished Petterson, “you’ve assaulted us with this request at every meeting for over a year now!”
“I realize that,. Senator,” agreed Fowler amiably. “Nonetheless, I wish to submit the proposal again. If you wish, I can quote the section of proceedings regulations which—”
“I am fully conversant with the rules of procedure for this committee, Mr. Director, as are my fellow senators. If you will persist in this inexplicable masochism, we are compelled by courtesy to indulge you. But permit me to say that I have no reason to believe your proposal will be met by any more receptive an audience this time than in the past. However, I suppose each administrator is entitled to one private aberration. Begin.
“But please have the grace to be as brief as possible. Most of us have important work to do.” She did not have to stress the “us” to make her point.
Fowler rose. He had only a single sheet of notes in front of him, and he rarely referred to it. He had no need to. He had made this speech many times before,