corner readers, as well as
your own, on the enclosed sketch of a dream I had when
working out west. About 26 years ago I was working in the
West near the mining country, and one night I dreamed I was
in a mining town, the name of which I did not know in my
dream, nor had I ever seen it in reality. I was crossing the
street to a store building painted white, and in my hand I
carried an envelope that I was to deliver to the boss of the
store. When I arrived at the center of the street I was met
by three men who were coming from the opposite side, one of
whom stopped me, saying: "Come with me and I will show you
where there is a gold mine." I replied: "I haven't time to
go now," but he insisted, "Well, come anyway and when you
have time you can go and get it." So I went. We started off
in the direction of what I have since learned is the richest
locality in gold mines and after walking a while we seemed
to float through space; then we came to the ground a few
feet from the top of the mountain. We walked up to the top
and again floated in the air in a semi-circle, landing at
the foot of another mountain a few miles to the west.

The stranger said: "I want you to note the peculiar
formation of this country and this stream and right here,
walking a short distance, is where you will find the gold."
About three months later I decided to return to Chicago, and
in the train I met a cigar salesman who, as we soon became
friendly, insisted that I should locate in one of the towns
on his route and gave me a letter to a certain friend of his
in the mining district. When the friend had read the letter
he wrote another to a friend of his own on whom I was to
call. As I went down the street I carried the letter in my
hand and as I crossed the street I stopped short, for the
store I sought was the store of my dream.

Three years ago at a summer resort where a company of us
were telling strange dreams, I remarked that the weak part
of my dream was that one of my guides was supposed to be a
dead relative of my own, and my mother remarked at once, "I
had an uncle, a prospector, who died out West in the mining
country, but nobody ever knew just where."

Chicago.

CURIOUS.

MARION HOLMES' ANSWER.

Dr. Peterson, the New York neurologist, i