Slowly， the picture turned once more， and once again，relative to the usual directions of up and down， the picture wasstubbornly， completely inverted.
“It’s onto that， too，” the repairman said， gloomily. He satdown on the floor， and assumed a kind of Yoga posture，peering between his legs. “You could try it this way， Pops.”
“I’m pretty stiff，” Mr. Rapp told him， shaking his head.
“Yeah，” the repairman said， reinverting himself. For along while he sat， pulling his beard thoughtfully， a look ofdeep thought on his face. The reversed singer faded out， togive place to an earnestly grinning announcer who pointedemphatically to a large， upside down sign bearing the name ofa product.
“Watching it this way could get to be a fad，” the repairmansaid， at last， almost inaudibly. He fell silent again， and Mr.
Rapp， sadly， began to realize that even this bearded andconfident young man had apparently been stopped， like theothers.
“The way I look at it， like， there’s a place where sciencehangs up，” the bearded one spoke， finally.
“Like， I don’t want to put down my old Guru at the SecondAvenue School of Electronics，” he added， solemnly. “Butyou got to admit that there are things not dreamed of in yourphilosophy， Horatio. You dig？”
“My name isn’t Horatio，” Mr. Rapp objected.
“I was quoting，” the repairman told him. “I mean， this is athing like， outside material means. Supernatural， sort of. Didyou cross up any witches lately， Pops？”
“Oh， dear，” Mr. Rapp said sadly. He shook his head. “No，I haven’t ... er， offended any witches. Not that I know of.”
He regarded the inverted picture for a moment. Then， as therepairman’s words began to sink in， Mr. Rapp looked at himapprehensively.
“Witches？” Mr. Rapp asked. “But... I mean， that’s allsuperstition， isn’t it？ And anyway... well， television sets！”
“They used to dry up cows， but who keeps cows？” thebearded one said ominously. “Why not television sets？ Like， Ihappen to be personally acquainted with several witches andlike that. The Village is full of them. However—” He rose， andstalked toward the set， his eyes glittering in a peculiar way.
“You’re a lucky one， Daddyo. Back in my square days， I didsome reading up on the hookups between poetry and magic.
Now， I’m a poet. Therefore， and to wit， I’m also a magician.
On this hangup， I’m going to try magic. Electronics won’twork， that’s for sure.”
* * * * *
“But....” Mr. Rapp was not quite sure why he disapproved，but he did. On the other hand， the repairman appeared to bevery definitely sure of what he was doing， as he peered into theback of the television set.
“Have you ever tried ... ah， this method before？”
“Never ran into any hexed TV sets before，” the repairmansaid， straightening up. “Don’t worry， though. I got the touch，like with poetry. Same thing， in fact. All magic spells rhyme，see？ Well， I used to rhyme， back before I really startedswinging. Anybody can rhyme. And the rest is just instinct.”
He had been scribbling something on a notepad， as he spoke.
Now he bent down， to take another look at the back of the set，and nodded with an air of assurance.
“The tube layout，” the repairman told Mr. Rapp， exhibitinghis notebook. “That， and Ohm’s Law， and a couple of Hindubits I picked up listening to the UN on the radio ... makes afirst-class spell.”
Mr. Rapp backed away， nervously. “Look， if it’s all the sameto you....”
“Don’t flip.” The repairman consulted his notebook， andmoved to stand in front of the screen. The picture showeda smiling newscaster， pointing to a map which indicatedsomething ominous.
“Cool， man，” the repairman said. “Here we go.” He lifted hishands in an ecclesiastical gesture， and his voice became a deepboom.
“6SN7， 6AC5， six and seven millivolts are running down theline， E equals R times A， that’s the way it goes， go round theother way， Subhas Chandra BOSE！”
Afterward， Mr. Rapp was never quite sure exactly whathappened. He had an impression of a flash of light， and an odd，indefinite sound rather like the dropping of a cosmic garbagecan lid. But possibly neither the light nor the sound actuallyhappened； at any rate， there were no complaints from theneighbors later on. However， the lighted screen was certainlydoing something.
“Crazy！” the repairman said， in awed tones.
Mr. Rapp， his view partly blocked by the repairman， couldnot see exactly what was happening on the screen. However，he caught a brief glimpse of the newscaster’s face. It was rightside up， but no longer smiling. Instead， the pictured face worea look of profound alarm， and the newsman was apparentlyleaning far forward， his face almost out of focus because of itsnearness to the lens. Just for a moment， Mr. Rapp could havesworn he saw a chair floating up， past the agonized expressionon the screen.
Then the screen want gray， and a panel of lettering appeared，shaking slightly.
OUR PICTURE HAS BEEN TEMPORARILY INTERRUPTED.
NORMAL SERVICE WILL BE RESTORED AS SOON AS POSSIBLE.
PLEASE STAND BY.
“I was going to give you a bill，” the repairman said. “Onlymaybe we better just charge it up to customer relations.”
The letters remained steady on the screen， and Mr. Rappstudied them. They were right side up.
“You fixed it，” Mr. Rapp said， a little uncertainly. “I mean，it’s working. I ought to pay....”
“I goofed，” the repairman said. He picked up his tools， andmoved toward the door. “Like， I won’t mention it to anybody ifyou won’t. But I goofed， all right. Didn’t you see the picture？”
“But whatever you did ... it worked，” Mr. Rapp said. “Thepicture’s right side up.”
“I know，” the repairman said. “Only somewhere ... there’s astudio that’s upside down. I just goofed， Pops， that’s all.”
He closed the door behind him， leaving Mr. Rapp still staringat the immobile， right-side-up message on the glowing screen.