Someday by Isaac Asimov - The thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts... but those of a frustrated machine are longer—and deadlier!

Niccolo Mazzetti lay stomach down on the rug, chin buried in the palm of one small hand, and listened disconsolately to the Bard. There was even the suspicion of tears in his dark eyes, a luxury an eleven-year-old could allow himself only when alone.

The Bard said, "Once upon a time in the middle of a deep wood, there lived a poor woodcutter and his two motherless daughters, who were each as beautiful as the day is long. The older daughter had long hair as black as a feather of a raven's wing, but the younger daughter had hair as bright and golden as the sunlight of an autumn afternoon.

"Many times while the girls were waiting for their father to come home from his day's work in the wood, the older girl would sit before a mirror and sing—"