子浪小说

第10部分（第5页）

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

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