We sit and dream of silly things and long for times gone by, and wonder where our humor went and whether we can fly. We watch the clouds go floating by and think of petty things like papers, grades, and radios, and little silver rings. The sun may shine, but it's too cold (it snows when it is warm). We hunch our shoulders down and stoop to keep ourselves in form.

A little whimsey now and then can bring us some delight and sometimes gently turn us from the wrong into the right. The strangest things are happening most anywhere you look and if I wrote down all of them I'd surely fill a book. But as for me, I'll tarry here and watch the clouds float by and wonder what tomorrow brings and whether I can fly.

I dream of being great some day. I covet others' awe. I want to magnify myself in science or in law. But just for now the clouds are fine, they keep me company, and in their ragged shapes I see whatever I can see. Someday I'll fly, though not in air nor on another's praise. I hope to reach the highest point and be there all my days.