G. B. Stern, in her delightful book Monogram ... tells of her rage, about three years ago, at learning that there were no such animals as unicorns.

All her life she had simply taken it for granted that there were unicorns. "That there should not be is plainly silly," she says. "Who can deny that there are zebras? And zebras are even striped, which is absurd. Well, then, there must be unicorns or how are we to manage?"

I think that possibly Miss Stern is a little too upset right now to look at the lack of unicorns in its right perspective. Her desperate cry of "or how are we to manage?" is born of the suddenness of the whole thing's breaking on her like this. In a year or two Time, the Great Kidder, will have fooled her into thinking that we are managing all right without unicorns, and only occasionally will she wince when looking at the "By Royal Appointment" signs.