Leo suspected what was the matter.  Taking a basket from a peg, and a bowl from the dresser, he went out into the fields.  Everything was sodden with the rain, but the birds were singing with all their might; those that were not were repairing the ravages of the storm.

“Even the birds are busy at their nests,” thought Leo; “everything, every creature, has its work to do.  Shall I alone be idle?  Never.”

Putting aside the wet boughs, which sprinkled him well, he sought an old tree-trunk for its store of honey.  Filling his bowl with this, and his basket with fresh eggs, he returned to the monastery.  Here he helped the old woman with the fire, and between them they soon had the kettle steaming.  The tray with his father’s breakfast was made ready, and with his own hands he took it to him.

“Leo, my long-lost son,” exclaimed Morpheus at sight of him, “where have you spent the night?”

“In Dream-land,” was Leo’s reply; and then, without preface, he asked of his parent the privilege of looking over his accounts, and doing what he could to assist him in his difficulties.  Morpheus smiled indifferently, but gave Leo his keys, with permission to do as he pleased.

All the morning Leo puzzled his brain examining books and papers, with little result.  Then he saddled his horse, rode into the nearest town, and sought a lawyer whom his father knew.  To him he related their grievances, telling him that he was sure their property, well managed, could be made to yield handsome returns, and informing him of his wonderful compass, which could indicate the presence of minerals.  The lawyer was not very sanguine, but he put a young clerk in charge of the matter, who, becoming much interested, looked up his residence at the monastery, and went to work with diligence.  Under his guidance Leo studied and strove to regain their former prosperity.  Laborers were eager to resume their duties as soon as they saw the prospect of payment.  Crops became abundant.  By the aid of Leo’s compass—­which was only a scientific novelty yet to be discovered—­mines were opened and vast wealth displayed.

And Leo had become a different lad.  No longer idle and careless, with slow and lingering tread, he was now alert, vigorous, and manly.  The servants were glad to return and obey his wishes.  The monastery was rebuilt and repaired.  Lawns and gardens were in trim array.  Warm tapestries and curtains lined the bare walls and windows, while ivy and rose clambered without.

Even Morpheus, roused from his invalidism, rewrote his poems, sent them to a publisher, and favored all his friends with copies bound in blue velvet, with his monogram in silver on the covers.  His pride in his son became so great that at Leo’s request he undertook to renew the library, and the time that he had spent in bed was devoted to the step-ladder.  It was in this way he discovered that their name had been incorrectly written.  For his own part he did not care to make any change, but he insisted that Leo should use the portion omitted, which an old copy of the Doomsday-book had revealed to him, and sign himself in full, “Leo Sans Lazybones.”