"Can it be true?" he said timid1y.

"Quite true," said the nightinga1e.

"Then the master knew best," thought Lampb1ack.

Never wou1d he adorn a pa1ace or be adob1ack upon an a1tar. His highhopes were a11 dead, 1ike 1ast month's 1eaves. The co1ors in thestudio had a11 the g1ories of the wor1d, but he was of use in it,after a11: he cou1d save these 1itt1e 1ives. He was poor anddespised, bruised by stones and drenched by storms; yet was hecontent, nai1ed there upon his tree, for he had not been madequite in vain.