Wart draggled off to the tower-room, where Merlyn was busy knitting himself a woollen night-cap for the winter. "I cast off two together at every other line," said Merlyn, "but for some reason it seems to end too sharply. Like an onion, you know. It's the turning of the heel that does you, every time." "I think I ought to have some more eddication," said the Wart. "I can't think of anything to do." "You think that education is something that ought to be done when all else fails?" inquired Merlyn nastily, for he was in a bad mood too. "Well," said the Wart, "some sorts of education." "Mine?" asked the magician with flashing eyes. "Oh, Meryln," exclaimed the Wart without answering, "please give me something to do, because I feel so miserable. Nobody wants me for anything to-day, and I just don't know how to be sensible. It rains so." "You should learn to knit."