on walked Andy. There were parts of those hills where
he walked that probably nobody, not even the Indian, ever traversed.
Anything could happen there--where the woods are dark with pine or sunny
with birch, and where echoes are the only memory (and they never last
long). It was so far away, up in through there; as I've said, anything
could happen there and we would never hear of it. All day long the cold
brooks run down, brown from the juices of the hemlock bark, over browned
stones--but of course they never talk and tell anything.

About noon, Andy found himself upon an old disused and overgrown
road, that for years had been traveled only by rabbits and skunks and
woodchucks and deer. And in a clearing at one side he saw an old log
cabin which had not been lived in for years and years. There was a bit
of brook at the back and an old wind-break of pine trees.

"Now I will eat a snack here," Andy said to himself, "and afterward, may
God have mercy on my soul, I will lie down and nap under the pine and
try to sleep off whatever it is that is bothering me."

And he did so, lying down beneath the pine--

He closed one eye gently and slowly (like letting a lid down on a box
of playthings) and then he closed the other eye the same way; and then
he knew nothing at all until suddenly a Voice came clap out of the blue
sky, calling his name, "Andy Gordon, man! Andy Gordon!" over the hills
and far.

Andy was amazed, of course, and said: "Here I am," with all his might,
but without making a bit of sound (just as we all do in dreams).

"The thing the matter with you," went on the great Voice, without
any introduction or anything of the sort but coming from everywhere
and nowhere at once, "is that you need Work. You are tired to death
with work; work-with-a-little-'w' is killing the soul out of you, Andy;
work-with-a-little-'w' always does that to men, if you give it the whole
chance. But that can't be helped. You're bound to have a whole lot of it
in your life But--_if_ you don't mix some Big-'W' Work in with it, then
indeed and indeed your life will be disastrous and your days will be
dead."

Andy did not know but what he was a-dreaming, though his eyes were now
wide open and he could see a robin hopping on the sod. "What is it you
mean by Big-'W' Work?" he asked.

"Of course, that's the Work you love for the Work's sake. It's Work you
do because you love the thing itself you're working for."

"You make that hard to unde