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This short page frames impellent men as figures who move through the world claiming to solve problems for others.

The typed opening and sparse handwritten body make the page feel like a fragmentary accusation. Its force comes from compression: an undefined group enters at night, then becomes a social type whose confidence in solving problems is itself the threat.

A compressed accusation that opens cinematically - 'INTO the night crept' - then names its target: 'THESE / THIS IMPELIENT MEN / that go around this / world solving our / problems for us.' The barbed irony lands on that last line, where solving 'our / problems for us' is itself the menace, and the source spelling 'IMPELIENT' (for impellent/impudent) is left as written - a clean, finished aphorism among the rougher draft pages.