It comes between you and your work; you see it looking out of the eyes of a friend.

And one day, when you think it has been conquered, that you have worn it down into oblivion and the dust, and you close your eyes and say, 'I am master,' up it springs with fury from nowhere you can see, and catches you by the throat; and the fight begins again.

But you sit stronger, and the fight becomes shorter; and after many battles, and you have learned never to be off guard, to know by instinct where every ambush is, then at last the victory is yours.

It is hard, it is bitter, and sometimes it seems hardly worth the struggle.

But it is--it is worth the struggle, dear old man." Soolsby dropped on his knees and caught David by the arms.