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in the morris…chair； the great book open on my knee。 Not a word can I
make out； the pages are utterly blank。 I am not surprised； but keenly
disappointed。 I finger the pages； I bend over them lovingly； the tears
fall on my hands。 I shut the book quickly as the thought passes through
my mind； 〃The print will be all rubbed out if I get it wet。〃 Yet there
is no print tangible on the page！
This morning I thought that I awoke。 I was certain that I had overslept。
I seized my watch； and sure enough； it pointed to an hour after my
rising time。 I sprang up in the greatest hurry； knowing that breakfast
was ready。 I called my mother； who declared that my watch must be
wrong。 She was positive it could not be so late。 I looked at my watch
again； and lo！ the hands wiggled； whirled； buzzed and disappeared。 I
awoke more fully as my dismay grew； until I was at the antipodes of
sleep。 Finally my eyes opened actually； and I knew that I had been
dreaming。 I had only waked into sleep。 What is still more bewildering；
there is no difference between the consciousness of the sham waking and
that of the real one。
It is fearful to think that all that we have ever seen； felt； read； and
done may suddenly rise to our dream…vision； as the sea casts up objects
it has swallowed。 I have held a little child in my arms in the midst of
a riot and spoken vehemently； imploring the Russian soldiers not to
massacre the Jews。 I have re…lived the agonizing scenes of the Sepoy
Rebellion and the French Revolution。 Cities have burned before my eyes；
and I have fought the flames until I fell exhausted。 Holocausts overtake
the world； and I struggle in vain to save my friends。
Once in a dream a message came speeding over land and sea that winter
was descending upon the world from the North Pole； that the Arctic zone
was shifting to our mild climate。 Far and wide the message flew。 The
ocean was congealed in midsummer。 Ships were held fast in the ice by
thousands； the ships with large； white sails were held fast。 Riches of
the Orient and the plenteous harvests of the Golden West might no more
pass between nation and nation。 For some time the trees and flowers
grew on； despite the intense cold。 Birds flew into the houses for
safety； and those which winter had overtaken lay on the snow with wings
spread in vain flight。 At last the foliage and blossoms fell at the feet
of Winter。 The petals of the flowers were turned to rubies and
sapphires。 The leaves froze into emeralds。 The trees moaned and tossed
their branches as the frost pierced them through bark and sap； pierced
into their very roots。 I shivered myself awake； and with a tumult of joy
I breathed the many sweet morning odours wakened by the summer sun。
One need not visit an African jungle or an Indian forest to hunt the
tiger。 One can lie in bed amid downy pillows and dream tigers as
terrible as any in the pathless wild。 I was a little girl when one night
I tried to cross the garden in front of my aunt's house in Alabama。 I
was in pursuit of a large cat with a great bushy tail。 A few hours
before he had clawed my little canary out of its cage and crunched it
between his cruel teeth。 I could not see the cat。 But the thought in my
mind was distinct： 〃He is making for the high grass at the end of the
garden。 I'll get there first！〃 I put my hand on the box border and ran
swiftly along the path。 When I reached the high grass； there was the cat
gliding into the wavy tangle。 I rushed forward and tried to seize him
and take the bird from between his teeth。 To my horror a huge beast； not
the cat at all； sprang out from the grass； and his sinewy shoulder
rubbed against me with palpitating strength！ His ears stood up and
quivered with anger。 His eyes were hot。 His nostrils were large and wet。
His lips moved horribly。 I knew it was a tiger； a real live tiger； and
that I should be devoured……my little bird and I。 I do not know what
happened after that。 The next important thing seldom happens in dreams。
Some time earlier I had a dream which made a vivid impression upon me。
My aunt was weeping because she could not find me。 But I took an impish
pleasure in the thought that she and others were searching for me； and
making great noise which I felt through my feet。 Suddenly the spirit of
mischief gave way to uncertainty and fear。 I felt cold。 The air smelt
like ice and salt。 I tried to run； but the long grass tripped me； and I
fell forward on my face。 I lay very still； feeling with all my body。
After a while my sensations seemed to be concentrated in my fingers； and
I perceived that the grass blades were sharp as knives； and hurt my
hands cruelly。 I tried to get up cautiously； so as not to cut myself on
the sharp grass。 I put down a tentative foot； much as my kitten treads
for the first time the primeval forest in the backyard。 All at once I
felt the stealthy patter of something creeping； creeping； creeping
purposefully toward me。 I do not know how at that time the idea was in
my mind； I had no words for intention or purpose。 Yet it was precisely
the evil intent； and not the creeping animal that terrified me。 I had
no fear of living creatures。 I loved my father's dogs； the frisky little
calf； the gentle cows； the horses and mules that ate apples from my
hand； and none of them had ever harmed me。 I lay low； waiting in
breathless terror for the creature to spring and bury its long claws in
my flesh。 I thought； 〃They will feel like turkey…claws。〃 Something warm
and wet touched my face。 I shrieked； struck out frantically； and awoke。
Something was still struggling in my arms。 I held on with might and main
until I was exhausted； then I loosed my hold。 I found dear old Belle；
the setter； shaking herself and looking at me reproachfully。 She and I
had gone to sleep together on the rug； and had naturally wandered to the
dream…forest where dogs and little girls hunt wild game and have
strange adventures。 We encountered hosts of elfin foes； and it required
all the dog tactics at Belle's mand to acquit herself like the lady
and huntress that she was。 Belle had her dreams too。 We used to lie
under the trees and flowers in the old garden； and I used to laugh wit