A little boy wearied with a long journey, lay down overcome withfatigue on the very brink1 of a deep well. Being within an inch offalling into the water, dame2 fortune, it is said, appeared to him, andwaking him from his slumber3, thus addressed him: "Little boy, praywake up: for had you fallen into the well, the blame will be thrown onme, and I shall get an ill name among mortals; for I find that men aresure to blame their calamities4 to me, however much by their ownfolly they have really brought them on themselves." 
Every one is more or less master of his own fate. 