In my dream I found myself in a pleasant field full of daisies and white
clover. The sun was setting. The wind was going one way, and the shadows
another. I felt rather tired, I neither knew nor thought why. With an old
man's prudence, I would not sit down upon the grass, but looked about for
a more suitable seat. Then I saw, for often in our dreams there is an
immediate response to our wishes, a long, rather narrow stone lying a few
yards from me. I wondered how it could have come there, for there were no
mountains or rocks near: the field was part of a level country. Carelessly,
I sat down upon it astride, and watched the setting of the sun. Somehow I
fancied that his light was more sorrowful than the light of the setting sun
should be, and I began to feel very heavy at the heart. No sooner had the
last brilliant spark of his light vanished, than I felt the stone under me
begin to move. With the inactivity of a dreamer, however, I did not care
to rise, but wondered only what would come next. My seat, after several
strange tumbling motions, seemed to rise into the air a little way, and
then I found that I was astride of a gaunt, bony horse--a skeleton horse
almost, only he had a gray skin on him.
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