said to Zhuangzi, “I have a big tree, the kind people call Spring Tree. Its trunk is
so gnarled and knotted it won’t take a chalk line, and its branches are so twisted they
won’t fit a compass or square. It stands by the road but no builder looks twice
at it. Your talk is similarly big and useless, and everyone alike rejects it.” 
Zhuangzi said, “Haven’t you seen a
weasel? It crouches down then rises up. It springs east and west, not worrying
about heights or depths—and lands in a snare or dies in a net. Now the yak is
so big he looks like clouds hanging from heaven. He sure can be big, but he
can’t catch mice. 
You have a big tree and are upset that you can’t use it. Why
not plant it by a nothing-at-all village in a big empty waste? You could do
nothing, dilly-dally by its side or take a hippy-dippy nap beneath it. It won’t fall
to an ax’s chop and nothing will harm it. Since it's no use, what bad can
happen to it?” 
 I read this back into 1.06 to indicate that Huizi's remarks there, as well, are intended as a criticism of Zhuangzi's philosophy. The reference to the chalk line, compass, and square may be a remnant of Huizi's roots among the Mohists who argued that politics and ethics, like carpentry, needs to have clear standards.
 This is confusing. It sounds like he's getting ready to praise the yak. It looks like clouds draped from heaven, just like Breeze's wings! But then in the end he pulls the rug out: the yak isn't preferable to the weasel, they're just different. This echoes the question from 1:01, whether Roe's transformation into Breeze is meant to represent some kind of progress or just change.
 In this final paragraph, Zhuangzi seems to be counseling against being the traveler from 1:06, against being anything at all. If we read the whole book as advice to his friend Huizi, sometimes, as with the skill stories, for instance, he seems to be telling Huizi that he will be more effective if he doesn't try so hard, leaving more room for intuition and creativity. Other times, as here, he seems to be telling Huizi to give up trying to be effective. What are we to make of this? Could he be telling Huizi to give up in order to make him more effective? Or does he try to use the (false?) promise of indirect success to lure his friend into quitting? Is the story of Yao and Xu You (1:04) a repudiation of Yao's success or an exploration into its inner workings? Is the point to be a secret sage, with no self, no accomplishment, and no fame (1:03), or not to be a sage, at all? Is one just an expedient means to the other and, if so, which to which?
For what it is worth, the line 無所可用 wúsuǒkěyòng, "since it's no use," reminds me of Xu You's remark about the world to Yao in 1:03, 予無所用天下為 yú wúsǒyòng tiānxiàwèi, "I have no use for the world."