Little Trishy came in from the garden screaming. Another two years before we can legally sell her, and the market is in free fall.
        "The daisies!" sobbed Trishy. "The daisies!"
        The lawn was wet with red. The daisies were gnashing each other's faces, gouging each other's eyes out. Nothing on this planet is as tragic as the innocent face of a daisy which has been torn into red ruin by the malevolence of its neighbor.
        "Darwinism!" I said with delight. "The survival of the fittest! The plants have discovered it, at last!"