is fetters what piece of iron might best serve him for a chisel. To
work he set, and many and weary were the hours he wrought, for his
attempts appeared to him nothing better than those of a child, and again
and ever again as he carved, he had to change his purpose, and cut away
what he had carved; for the thing he wrought would not conform itself to
the thing he thought, and it seemed he made no progress in the task that
was set him. But he did not know that it was because his thought was not
good enough to give strength and skill to his hand,--that it seemed too
good for his hand to follow.

One night he wrought hard by the glimmer of his wretched lamp, until,
overwearied, he fell fast asleep, and slept like one dead. When he
awoke, lo! a man of light, lovely and grand, who stood where he had been
so wearily carving the unresponsive stone! He rose and drew nigh.
Behold, it was an opening in the wall, through which his freedom shone!
The man of light was the door into the universe. And he darted through
the wall.

As he vanished from his sight, the boy felt the wind of the morning lave
his forehead; but with the prisoner vanished the vision; he was alone,
with the moon shining through the windows. Too solemn to be afraid, he
crept back to his bed, and fell fast asleep.

In the morning, he knew there had come to him what he now took for a
strange dream, but he remembered little of it, and thought less about
it, and the same day the wizard took him home.

His mother was out when he arrived, and he had not been in five minutes
before it began to rain. It was holiday-time, and there were no lessons,
and the school-room looked dismal as a new street. He had not a single
companion, and the rain came down with slow persistence. He tried to
read, but could not find any enjoyment in it. His thoughts grew more and
more gloomy, until at last his very soul was disquieted within him. When
his mother came home and sought him in the school-room, she found him
lying on the floor, sullen and unkind. Although he knew her step as she
entered, he never looked up; and when she spoke to him, he answered like
one aggrieved.

"I am sorry you are unhappy," said his mother, sweetly. "I did not know
you were to be home to-day. Come with me to my room."

He answered his mother insolently:

"I don't want to go with you. I only want to be left alone."

His mother turned away, and, without another word, left the room.

The cat came in, wen