Blue trunks; loose, flowing shirt; hard-soled, high-laced boots of the softest material known; and a short shawl or cape that hung from the shoulders to mid-thigh in back. Maynard worried about the lack of pockets and found some difficulty in getting used to the cartridge belt effect that passed in place of pockets on Ertene. A small, hard handcase contained his razor and some spare items of clothing. Maynard left Terra behind him beside the ocean, and strode along the highway. He continued to practice his speech and though he knew he was proficient, he worried about the first time he'd be expected to use it. But he could not remain silent forever, and so he turned into the first farmhouse he came to. Breakfast was his aim, and the sun was getting high. He knocked on the door. A dog came rushing around the corner of the house, all suspicion, and smelled Guy's feet curiously. Then as Guy spoke to the animal, the dog backed up several feet and lay with chin on forefeet. "Doda seems to like you," came the rich, pleasant tones of the woman from inside the doorway. "May I ask your business, sir?" Guy smiled his best smile, usually reserved for special occasions. "I am named Gomanar. I am a migratory worker in search of two items: Breakfast first and work second. Have you either?" "Of course," smiled the woman. Her smile broke into a full laugh. "You'll not mind if we present them to you in reverse order?" "You'll get the worst of the agreement that way," smiled Guy, cheerfully. "I'll work less on an empty stomach and then be hungrier." "You look like the kind of man who can pack it away," she said. "It might be that you would eat so much that you become sluggish?" she finished with another laugh. Her eyes traveled up and down Guy's muscular figure and decided that sluggish was possibly the one way that this startling young man did not get. She turned and called: "Lors! We have a visitor!" Her husband came to the door and looked questions at Maynard. He repeated his tale. "Naturally," he boomed. "Naturally." "Thank you," answered Guy simply. "What's the disagreement?" he asked his wife. "A mere argument as to the sequence of events. He wants to eat first." "A natural desire. That gives him the benefit of deciding the value received. But let's keep no man hungry, Tena. Your name again?" "Gomanar." "Lorsana," said the man. "Come in. We'll quibble over value received while eating." He treated the argument as a huge joke though it was serious business to Guy. Breakfast was large and appetizing, and near the finish, Lorsana said: "You look as though hard work did not bother you too much. You didn't get that figure just roaming back and forth, performing odd jobs." "I've managed to keep fit," said Guy noncommittally. "I see that," laughed Lorsana. "But look, Gomanar. I need a helper for a few days. Have you ever logged?" "No."