ren, had faded from my sight.

Then I dreamed, indeed, in the ordinary sense of the word; I was back
again in Newtown, in my own home, in my own white bed, and I was very
glad, looking at the pictures on the wall, and out on the familiar hills.
I was glad to hear my sister playing for me down stairs, only it was the
same tune always, and I wished that she would play more softly.

And the pillow was hard, but I did not mind that so much, for my mother
stood over me, looking very sweet and grave, and she said: "Why didn't
you tell us that the pillow was hard!"

My father was there, too, and repeated the same question, and my
brothers,--they all kept saying: "Why didn't you tell us that the pillow
was hard?" and seemed to be pitying me and admiring me at the same time,
until John Cable came in, friend of the old Newtown days, and his face
was hard and stern.

"Why didn't you tell me the pillow was hard?" he said. "Now, I can't wake
you! Don't you see, I can't wake you, now?" and he shook his head and
would not look at me. So they took him out of the room, and went on
pitying and admiring me, but my sister kept playing louder and louder,
and it troubled me so that I could not rest. Then I heard a voice, that
was not in my dream, calling to me in a sharp, clear, cheering tone,
"Teacher! Teacher!" and I looked up to see Luther coming towards me in a
boat, his face aglow with excitement.

This first--before I realized that I had fallen asleep on the rock, and
that what I had dreamed was my sister playing, was the sound of the tide
coming in, and that I was already sprinkled from head to foot with the
spray. The Cradlebow continued calling to me cheerily, and would not give
me time to consider the terrors of the situation then, nor afterwards,
when I strove, in my half-stunned condition of mind, to weigh and
appreciate the peril from which I had been rescued.

The children had wandered a mile or more along the beach and had gone
home by another road. It was not yet dark. No alarm had been occasioned
in Wallencamp as to my absence, but the Cradlebow, knowing that I had
gone in the direction of the beach, had been moved to search for me, and
had discovered me on the rock, where, in a few moments more, I should
have waked to find myself at the mercy of the waves.

My deliverer laughed reassuringly, sending the boat leaping upon the
shore, holding out his hand to me, as though this were merely an everyday
occurrence, the clo