d upon to do
one thing more than you think, _honestly_, that you ought to. No more
than that is your work."

"But I could _make_ myself think--" began Marjorie.

"I said _honestly_," said the Dream. "It isn't honest to _make_ yourself
think anything."

"But mustn't I study about it, and try--"

"Cer-tain-ly! Study about it carefully; but do it fairly. Don't take
what some one else says that you 'ought' to do, and try to shave
yourself down to fit it. Study it out and think it out for yourself; and
then if the other fellow's opinion seems wise, follow it;--and if it
doesn't, follow a better one of your own."

"But suppose that some one has a right to tell me what to do?"

"That's different. If you have given some one the right to tell you what
to do, it must be because you believe that person understands better
than you do. If you believe that, be obedient; if you don't, say so and
go your own way. Be honest, that's all,--be honest with you."

"With _me_?"

"Yes, with you. If you are honest with yourself, you are square with the
world."

"I see," said Marjorie. "Oh, dear, that is the third stone I've stumbled
over in two minutes! I wonder why some one doesn't roll them out of the
road,--they are not so very large."

"I wonder why," echoed the Dream, and there was a queer little note in
his voice that made Marjorie glance toward him; and then her face
flushed and she gave a little laugh.

"Why, of course it's my work!" she exclaimed, stooping and beginning to
roll one toward the side of the way. It was rather heavy and awkward to
handle; but she kept bravely on, and soon returned for another. As she
bent toward it, she happened to glance back down the road, and then she
suddenly straightened up. "Oh, look!" she cried. "See all the people
dragging that wagon up the hill,--and just hear them shout! Something
must have happened to the horse! I'm going to help!" and she started to
run down the hill.

"I thought you were busy," called the Dream, after her.

"Yes," she called back, "I know; but I can do that after a while,--I
want to help with the wagon now;" and she ran on down the hill, and
squeezing in among the others, she managed to get hold of one of the
ropes, although there was scarcely room for her hand to grasp it. Up
the hill she came, struggling and panting with the rest, and as she
reached the spot where the Dream had remained, she waved her free hand
proudly; but just then her foot struck a stone,