And as my ear
listened, and my mind wandered in this happy retrospect, my every
faculty seemed exalted, and, without any thought upon the matter,
I ground points upon my pins so fine, so regular, and so smooth
that they would have pierced with ease the leather of a boot, or
slipped, without abrasion, among the finest threads of rare old
lace. When the organ stopped, and I fell back into my real world
of cobwebs and mustiness, I gazed upon the pins I had just
ground, and, without a moment's hesitation, I threw them into the
street, and reported the lot as spoiled. This cost me a little
money, but it saved me my livelihood."
After a few moments of silence, Barbel resumed:
"I have no more to say to you, my young friend. All I want
you to do is to look upon that framed conundrum, then upon
this grindstone, and then to go home and reflect. As for me, I
have a gross of pins to grind before the sun goes down."
I cannot say that my depression of mind was at all relieved
by what I had seen and heard. I had lost sight of Barbel for
some years, and I had supposed him still floating on the sun-
sparkling stream of prosperity where I had last seen him. It was
a great shock to me to find him in such a condition of poverty
and squalor, and to see a man who had originated the "Conundrum
of the Anvil" reduced to the soul-depressing occupation of
grinding pin-points. As I walked and thought, the dreadful
picture of a totally eclipsed future arose before my mind.
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