The mason, on hearing this, could not refrain from laughing. “Truly,” said he, “I have lighted here on an eccentric specimen of the stony tribe. So, my good friend, you wish to have room to roll about in—eh?”
“Precisely,” returned the other.
“Did you ever hear of the adage, ‘a rolling stone gathers no moss?’”
“Yes, and despise it,” answered the Stone; “a moss is a token of antiquity; and antiquity and absurdity are synonymous terms in my vocabulary. May heaven defend me from ever gathering moss!”
“Whew!” whistled the mason, in a manner to indicate mingled surprise and contempt. “Pray, what do you take yourself to be?”
“What do I take myself to be! Just a stone—a wall stone—neither more nor less.”
“And are you content that I should allot you a position in the wall?”
“Certainly I am.”
“And yet,” said the mason, “you declare you will not be satisfied to remain under constraint? You must have room forsooth for your energies! Really your inconsistency is most ridiculous. Come; I have no time to lose; tell me at once what you would be at. Will you go into the wall, or shall I deposit you again on the ground?”
“I have made up my mind to oblige you by going into the wall,” replied the Stone, with a patronizing air; “but I will not be swindled out of my natural rights! Liberty is the first of these—and I must have liberty, even in a wall.”