"Yes," he said, the words coming in jets, with pauses between; "I will take
the grey mare--I will travel first--I will see the world--then I will find
work."

"What work?"

"I do not know."

She made a little impatient movement.

"That is no plan; travel--see the world--find work! If you go into the
world aimless, without a definite object, dreaming--dreaming, you will be
definitely defeated, bamboozled, knocked this way and that. In the end you
will stand with your beautiful life all spent, and nothing to show. They
talk of genius--it is nothing but this, that a man knows what he can do
best, and does it, and nothing else. Waldo," she said, knitting her little
fingers closer among his, "I wish I could help you; I wish I could make you
see that you must decide what you will be and do. It does not matter what
you choose--be a farmer, businessman, artist, what you will--but know your
aim, and live for that one thing. We have only one life. The secret of
success is concentration; wherever there has been a great life, or a great
work, that has gone before. Taste everything a little, look at everything
a little; but live for one thing. Anything is possible to a man who knows
his end and moves straight for it, and for it alone. I will show you what
I mean," she said, concisely; "words are gas till you condense them into
pictures."

"Suppose a woman, young, friendless as I am, the weakest thing on God's
earth. But she must make her way through life. What she would be she
cannot be because she is a woman; so she looks carefully at herself and the