When there are but a few large, tall, muscular clouds floating leisurely in the blue sky, you are hard pressed not to endow them with a purpose and maybe even a smothering of will. The more powerful they tower, and the more handsome they are in your pinched eyes, the more difficult it is for you to realize that the only purpose and the only will in those dollops of swirling vapor are your own. And that it is entirely up to you to do with those poor clouds as you please. They are at your beck and call—your humble servants always ready to do your bidding without the slightest grudge.