那个种花人的故事出自Ottoborg一章，Ottoborg是Quater的三子，种花人是Ottoborg 之子Hypen Nupen。原文如下，我前文记错了很多，请以此为准。 http://doo.nomoretangerines.com/nevhood/nevhall4.htm Ottoborg Quater made a king named Ottoborg, designed to be happy and full of joy all day. Robots were a subject that Ottoborg had done a lot of research on, so it was only natural that he made three robots to help him make seven little houses. The robots names were Appie, Togor, and Bil. Appie was good at digging. Bil was good at building and Togor was good at painting; that is why it is said today that if anyone is a good painter, he is "Togor". In a very careless way, Ottoborg made seven boys to live in his new houses. The boys names were Hypen Nupen, Petri Alfonzo, Willie Trombone, Aloh Al, Derradious Hapsicom (who's nickname was Creeker), Hondo and Ed. Ottoborg's sons were easily identified by the loop formed on the top of each of their heads. Sometimes when they walked along they would hook their head-hoops on branches and hang there for days. Petri was so tired of getting his head hooked onto things that he cut his own head off, which proved to be fatal. Ottoborg had forgotten to hold his world together with gravity, so one day his world fell apart in chunks and his seven sons and three robots floated aimlessly across creation. Hypen's chunk of land got caught in the tail of the comet Pyrageorge (named Pyrageorge because it decreased in size during each orbit). The tail of Pyrageorge was full of seeds because the comet once passed through the atmosphere of the planet Berpie. Hypen cultivated his chunk so that he could grow flowers. He loved flowers and how happy and festive they can make a place. Often, he would make a wreath of some of the flowers to decorate the loop in his head. Since he was the only one of his brothers with a nose, it seemed especially fitting that this is where Hypen Nupen's chunk of land should be. He grew an extraordinary amount of flowers, but after a few years it was not enough to satisfy his growing craving for flowers. His deepest, burning desire was to be King of Flowers, to have no rival in growing flowers. He actually did not know of anyone else who was growing flowers, but his unfettered imagination went wild and he thought that there must be others who were cultivating and growing huge fields of flowers on the many planets and worlds he passed. Year after year Hypen worked the soil of his chunk of land to try and get it to produce more and more flowers. He developed fertilizers and plant foods. He grew nothing but flowers, though there were plenty of other types of seeds he could have planted. If he did notice some other type of plant growing amongst his flowers, he violently ripped it from the ground, cursing it and tearing it to shreds then throwing it onto his compost pile. It was so upsetting to him that he would have to lie down for a nap afterwards. But no matter how many flowers the land produced, it was never enough for Hypen. It almost seemed that the chunk of land was desperately trying to please its obsessed master, straining itself year in, year out, to produce more flowers than it had the previous season. For many centuries, in fact, it did out-perform itself; each year a dozen or so more flowers were produced. And Hypen would ask, "Is that all?" Then the yield began to decrease. The land was simply over-worked and it needed to rest. Hypen reacted by pressing the land harder and harder to yield more. He was aggravated to no end. The more he did to increase the yield of flowers, the less the land was able to produce. Eventually, as each season went by, the yield decreased first 10, then 100 fold, and so on. Most of the land lay barren and still. If Hypen found anything other than a flower growing he would pull it up by the roots and throw it into the compost pile. As the land grew gray and sterile, Hypen wasted away also. The loop on the top of his head drooped, like a deflated tire. His desire to make his chunk of land a happier place with flowers had died. He spent his last days worrying and hovering over the last few flowers that struggled desperately to grow to maturity in the dust. He could not afford the time it took to weed the desolate fields, but only a few spindly vines grew here and there in the depleted soil anyway. When the last flower died, so did Hypen Nupen. -- 　　　　　　　　　　 Schroedinger's cat is NOT dead. http://sites.google.com/site/youtien/ --

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