Eleven likable short stories, most aerated with a pleasing fanciful foolishness or light-to-baleful socio-sexual comment. There is the young man, dressed in a giant peanut shell on his first day at the Goobertown Company who is called upon to awaken the sated glands of an aging film star; another blighted youth arrives at belated consummation after a rapacious inquisition by his beloved's mother and an interpretive dance celebrating a cookbook. In the title story, the hero incubates the egg of an extinct bird and a practical joke from a deceased benefactor. There are two inventive little nightmares, at once hilarious and grim; one deals with a brace of film idols in seaside seclusion who are visited by a very hungry, though discriminating monster from the deep; and the other with a man who discovers an antique shop filled with his childhood toys. The most delightful story is ""A Musical Education,"" a gently humorous, nostalgic piece about a young boy's repelled fascination with his guitar teacher. There are also tales of domestic stresses and strains, one of which concerns a sudden split in the very sane fabric of the subway-suburb psyche. Risible, reposeful, recreational.