He then had to jump, and appears to have lost his head, as instead of walking the short distance forward to Slochd to let the signalman know what had happened, he started the 6½-mile walk back to Carrbridge.

For if that huge and hideous machine Should thrust its bilious bulginess between A blameless couple, such as we have been, My SERAPHINE, I will not condescend to make a scene, But--if you needs must have your crinoline-- Good-bye!

The psychological patter of the '70s is as inescapable as Muzak and just as numbing: Are you relating? Going through heavy changes? In touch with yourself and doing your own thing? Are you up front, or just hung up and uptight? Boston Writer R.D. (for Richard Dean) Rosen calls it psychobabble, and in his new book by that title (Atheneum, $8.95) sees America awash in soggy therapeutic clichés.

Her whip of cricket's bone, the lash of film.