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translucent walking with the monk father of her child. The Self Realization Center was neatly tucked within the wealthy Palisades just past the edge of Los Angeles. Will Rogers Stae Park was near at hand, for tourists to witness his estate of realization. The priests and the jes- ter. The comfortable palace in route to the com- fortable grave, "You must rise above these things Jaugeline," the Buddhistie American was repeating. "Ever the Mohammedans knew Allah is beyond alchohol. In the inner parts of you there is great strength, and you are physically perfected far enough to allow the aura of you its beauty. To be radiant, Jaugeline; comes not from the suggestive sheen laid in paint below your eyes." He makes indication to the white swans; the white ducks: "You see how serene they are with- out changes." The birds were floating on an artificial pond beneath the distance of a quaintly curved wooden bridge. She watched the arch in the neck of a swan, as they walked aside a Turquoise stone rectang- ular monument. "You see Jaugeline; our structure does not wish