watched him as he gazed, fascinated, through the different pieces of glass. "The world looks entirely different, doesn't it, according to the glass through which one looks at it?"
"Why is that notebook empty?" Gerold asked.
The Foolish Student stuck his head through the hole again.
"That notebook isn't empty. It is a kind of magic book, painted with invisible ink. If you look hard at one page for a while, you will see some wonderful pictures."
"Yes, now I see something, but not clearly. Fruit and flowers, or something like that."
"That's it. Boys who have faith grow up to be determined men. Do you realize, Gerold, that you were born under a lucky star?"
Gerold shook his head. "Oh, no," he said sadly. "The children who are born under a lucky star are always the youngest of the family, and I am the elder of two brothers."
"A mistake, my dear boy, a great mistake. The youngest of the family is the one who lives in the Well of Eternity, out of which old Father Time draws up the Present in his bucket. If you are born under a lucky star, you are not necessarily successful in all you undertake. Nobody is like that, in real life. But you make light of the dreary days and know that some day the bright light will shine in your life, it doesn't make any difference when or how it comes. In the meantime there are dark times, even very black ones, and you may suffer, but what difference does it make?" And as he said these words his head disappeared again.
"Oh!" breathed Gerold rapturously with a deep sigh of delight.
"What pleases you so much? Tell me."
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