On a certain morning in early September Wilbur Cowan idled on River Street, awaiting a summons.

The day was sunny and spacious, yet hardly, he thought, could it contain his new freedom.

Despairing groups of half-grown humans, still in slavery, hastened by him to their hateful tasks.

He watched them pityingly, and when the dread bell rang, causing stragglers to bound forward in a saving burst of speed, he halted leisurely in sheer exultation.

The ecstasy endured a full five minutes, until a last tap of the bell tolled the knell of the tardy.