A breezy little Self, all merry and fluffy and light as lace, answered:—
“O-o-o-o!” it breathed. “I think it will be fun. That’s all I care about it—it will be fun and nothing else.”
Then a strange, fascinating Self, from whom Hazen could not easily look away, spoke, half singing.
“Remember the beauty that we shall see as we go—as we go,” he chanted. “We can live for the beauty everywhere and for nothing else.”
“Think of the things we shall learn!” cried another Self. “Knowledge—knowledge all the way—and nothing else.”
Then a soft voice spoke, which was sweeter than any voice that Hazen had ever heard, and the Self to whom it belonged looked like Hazen when he was asleep.
“Nay,” it said sighing, “there are many dangers. But to meet dangers bravely and to overcome them finely is the way to grow strong.”
At this a little voice laughed and cracked as it laughed, so that it sounded like something being broken which could never be mended.
“Being strong and wise don’t mean making one’s fortune,” it said. “Just one thing means fortune, and that is being rich. To be rich—rich! That’s what we want and it is all we want. And I am ready to fight with everyone of you to get riches.”
Hazen looked where the voice sounded, and to his horror he saw a little Self made in his own image, but hideously bent and distorted, so that he knew exactly how he would look if he were a dwarf.