ed so lonely and sad that the heart
of the questioner was touched, and he said, "Come with me."

The boy looked pleased at the invitation, and, springing to his feet,
stood by the stranger.

Together they commenced the long and toilsome ascent; but the feet
of the youth were tender, and ere long the aged man was obliged to carry
him on his back to the very summit.

He set his burden down at the door of his pleasant home, expecting to
see an expression of wonder or pleasure on the boy's face; but only a
sensuous look of satisfaction at the comforts which the laborer had
gathered about him was visible on his dull features.

"I'll let him rest to-night," said the kind man. "To-morrow he shall
have his first lesson in weeding the beds and watering the flowers."

At dawn the old man arose, dressed himself, and went forth to view
the sun as it rose over the hills; while the youth slumbered on till
nearly noon, and when he arose manifested no life nor interest till the
evening meal was over. He partook largely of the bounties, and seemed
so full of animation that the old man took courage, and smiles of
satisfaction settled on his features; for he thought he had found a
helper for himself and wife.

The next day they called him at sunrise, and after many efforts succeeded
in arousing him from his sleep. The aged couple went to their garden
after the morning meal, and awaited the appearance of the youth.

"I sent him to gather ferns to plant beside these rocks: he surely cannot
be all this time gathering them," remarked the woman.

The husband went to the edge of the wood whither she had sent him,
and found him lying upon the ground, looking dreamingly at the skies.

The good couple did not succeed in arousing him to a sense of any
duty. He was dead to labor, and had no life to contribute to the scene
around him.

"I fear you have made a mistake," said the wife of the good man when
the shadows of evening came and they were alone. "I see the boy can
never appreciate the toil of our years. He must return and climb the
mount for himself. He has no appreciation of all this accumulation
which we have been years in gaining, nor can he have. It is not in the
order of life: each must climb the summit himself. A mistake lies in
our taking any one in our arms and raising him to the mount."

"I see it now," said her husband, who had, like many people, been
more kind than wise, and like many foolish parents who injure their
off