he head of the stairs and said good-by
_again_. As I remember it she was moved to this by something in Henry's
manner, and she remained at the head of the stairs while he descended.
When he reached the door he hesitated, and climbed the stairs and shook
hands good-by once more.

In the morning, when I awoke I had been dreaming, and the dream was so
vivid, so like reality, that it deceived me, and I thought it was real.
In the dream I had seen Henry a corpse. He lay in a metallic
burial-case. He was dressed in a suit of my clothing, and on his breast
lay a great bouquet of flowers, mainly white roses, with a red rose in
the centre. The casket stood upon a couple of chairs. I dressed, and
moved toward that door, thinking I would go in there and look at it, but
I changed my mind. I thought I could not yet bear to meet my mother. I
thought I would wait awhile and make some preparation for that ordeal.
The house was in Locust Street, a little above 13th, and I walked to
14th, and to the middle of the block beyond, before it suddenly flashed
upon me that there was nothing real about this--it was only a dream. I
can still feel something of the grateful upheaval of joy of that moment,
and I can also still feel the remnant of doubt, the suspicion that maybe
it _was_ real, after all. I returned to the house almost on a run, flew
up the stairs two or three steps at a jump, and rushed into that
sitting-room--and was made glad again, for there was no casket there.

We made the usual eventless trip to New Orleans--no, it was not
eventless, for it was on the way down that I had the fight with Mr.
Brown[8] which resulted in his requiring that I be left ashore at New
Orleans. In New Orleans I always had a job. It was my privilege to watch
the freight-piles from seven in the evening until seven in the morning,
and get three dollars for it. It was a three-night job and occurred
every thirty-five days. Henry always joined my watch about nine in the
evening, when his own duties were ended, and we often walked my rounds
and chatted together until midnight. This time we were to part, and so
the night before the boat sailed I gave Henry some advice. I said, "In
case of disaster to the boat, don't lose your head--leave that unwisdom
to the passengers--they are competent--they'll attend to it. But you
rush for the hurricane-deck, and astern to one of the life-boats lashed
aft the wheel-house, and obey the mate's orders--thus you will be
useful.