Salient: Victoria University Students' Paper. Vol. 29, No. 14. 1966.
The Brain is hated less than the Grind only because he is so rarely seen. When he does appear, however, usually for a maximum of half an hour, his hallmarks are very clear. The Brain only comes to the library for a specific purpose, to scan some forbidding volume which looks highly recherche and terribly complex. He will sit carelessly his chair, read with alarming rapidity and scribble a note from time to time in a manner particularly offputting because it seems that it is a thought of the Brain himself and not the author. When the Brain has absorbed his book, he shuts it with a poof, and happily walks away.
The last type, and the rarest. is the Dreamer. The Dreamer is prone to drag his feet and dress like a twit. Like anybody else, the Dreamer comes to the library to read his set books, but he is liable to forsake them for his own thoughts, oblivious of the clock or the industry surrounding him. The Dreamer is not known by the hours he spends in the library. But he can often be found on Saturday mornings, passing the time with a shelf of Roman history or French poetry. In the end, the Dreamer may pass his papers, but then again, he may not. His is a different kind of education.
If this universe were squeezed into a schoolroom, with books around the walls. Felicity M. Shanks looking radiant at the front, and facing her all these characters from school the grind, the dilettante, the importer, the jitterbug, the gleaner, the snorer, the nostril, the brain, and the dreamer—each sitting in his own distinctive posture, neat or sloppy, rigid or relaxed, and if Miranda, fresh from Prospero's tutelage, suddenly appeared, to taste of civilised school, she would not notice the flickering lights, or the water trickling on the floor beneath the door marked "Men"—or even the books. for that matter, She would look at all her classmates, and exclaim. "O brave new Rankine Brown!"