now, people would look at it and say that _I_ did it,--and would
remember me for it."

"'M-hm," said the Dream.

"Wouldn't that be grand?" went on Marjorie, enthusiastically.

"'M-hm," said the Dream.

Marjorie looked hard at him. "Isn't it right to want to do great and
wonderful things?" she asked.

"Yes," said the Dream.

"Then what--" Marjorie stopped.

"When you look at it fairly and squarely," said the Dream, "what do you
think of your reason for wanting to do something great?"

Marjorie bit her lip.

"Be honest," said the Dream.

"Well," said Marjorie, at last, "I suppose the reason is just about as
small and selfish and useless as a reason could possibly be."

"It is," said the Dream. "Now I'll tell you something. Those who have
come to be known for their work are those who have worked for the love
that was in them,--not for the name. To really work, is only to help;
and those who are helped will see to it that the work and the worker are