The Fremont weekly journal. [volume] (Fremont, Sandusky County, Ohio) 1867-1877, 1870-06-03
3listellaneons Selections.
From Mark Twain, IN Buffalo Express.
CURIOUS DREAM,
Containing a Moral.

Night before last ] had a singu-
lar dream. / seemed to be sitting
on a door step, Tin no particular
city, perhaps), ruminating, and the
| time of night appeared to be about
twelve or one o'clock. The weather
was balmy and delicious. There was
no human sound in the air, not even
a footstep. There was no sound OF
any kind to emphasize the dead still
ness, except the occasional hollow
barking of a dog in the distance and
the fainter answer Of a further dog.
Presently up street 1 heard bony
clack-clacking, and guessed 1t was
the castanets of a serenading
party. In a minute more a
tall skeleton, hooded and half
clad in tattered and mouldy
shroud whose shreds were Tapping
about the ribby latticc-work Of its
person, swung by me with stately
stride, and disappeared in the gray
gloom of the starlight. 1t had
a broken and worm eaten coffin on
| its shoulder and bundle of some
thing in its hand. knew what the
clack-clacking was then,--it was this
partv's Joints working together, and
Ibis elbows knocking against his
sides as he walked. I may say | was
surprised. Before 1 could collect
nv thoughts and enter upon any
speculation as to what this appari-
| ton might portend, 1 heard another
one coming-for 1 recognized mis-
clack-elack. He had two-thirds Of
coffin on his shoulder, and some
foot and head boards under his arm.
| I nightly wanted to peer under his
hood and speak to him, but wnen he
turned and smiled upon me with his
cavernons sockets and his projecting
grin as he went by, thought would
mot detain him. He was hardly
gone when l heard the clachng again
and another one issued from the
shadowy half-night. This one was
bending under a heavy grave stone,
and dragginga shabby coffin after
him by string. When he got to
me he gave me steady look for a
moment or two, and then rounded
to and backed up to me, saying;
Ease this down for fellow, will
you?"
I eased the grayestone down to
the ground, and in doing SO no
ticed that it bore the name Of John
Baxter Copmanhurst, with May,
lIS39." as the date of his death. De
ceased sat wearily down by me and
wiped his os fronts with his major
maxilliary-chiefy from former hab-
it l Judged, for 1 could not see that
he brought away any Precipitation.
at is too bad, too bad, said he,
drawing the remnant of the shroud
about him and leaning his jaw pen
sivelv on his hand. Then he put
his left foot mp on his knee and fell
to scratching his ankle bone absent
lily with a rusty nail which lie got
out ofhis coffin.
"What is too bad, friend?'
"Oh, everything, everything. l
almost wish I never had died.
You surprise me. Why do you
say this? Has anything gone wrong
What is the matter?'
Matter Look at this shroud-
rags. Look at this grayestone, all
battered up. Look at that disgrace
full coffin. All a mans property
/ going to ruin and destruction before
his eyes and ask him if anything is
wrong? Fire and birthstone"
"Calm yourself, calm yourself, !
said, 1T is too bad-it is certainly
too bad, but then l had not suppos-
ed that you would much mind such
matters, situated as you are.
| well, my dear sir, I do mind
them. My pride is hurt, and my
comfort is impaired-destroyed
might say. I will state my case
I will put it to you in such a way
that you can comprehend it if yor
will let me" SAID the poor skeleton
fitting the hood of his shroud back
as if he were clearing for action, anC
thus unconsciouly giving himself {