The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1885-12-24
a FATIFUL DREAM.
iAvision Of the Night and its Sod rum
Ao0t.

s. nents
Writing Of dreamr and their fulfil
ment, correspondent Of the St. Louis
Globe Democrat relates this actual in
cident: . s. .tss>
We were eating breakfast one morn
ing, when our nearest neighbor, the
miller's wife, came in. She was pale
and excited. and to our great astonish-
ment she at once told us that her hus-
band would be drowned that afternoon.
She said: y
''Only last night dreamed that my
husband was drowned in the milkrace,
and that man, riding q white horse,
had come about dusk, and told me the
news. So impressed was with the
dream, that warned my husband not
to 20 near the mill to-day, and told
him my dream, but he only laughed at
my fears, and said that we no longer
lived in the dark ages
We thought at first that she must be
crazy, but at last she so far convinced
the folks that she was not, that they
consented to have me stay with her
during the day, and l accompanied her
to her home, she muttering all the
way:
II warned him, but he only laughed
al me. know he will never return
home"
As evening came on, her anxiety in
creased. The approaching darkness
seemed to her the shadow of death and
her face grew paler as the last sun
tinted cloud in the West gave way to
the all-ruling twilight. Although I
put no faith in the woman's predictions,
yet her strange murmurings had an
effect upon Inc, and it was with some-
thing almost like disappointment that
I saw the night close in, and no mes
senger appear. For 1 was young,
then, and fond of the exciting and
marvellous, without stopping to in
quire the cause. And so it was with
sudden shock that l again looked out
of the window, more carefully this
time, and saw white horse come
galloping over the hill at It's utmost
speed. The woman saw my emotion
and quickly flew to the window.
Down the short hill, over the stone
bridge in the hollow, and up the long
slope to the house, we watched it come,
together, and it would have been hard
to tell which was the most excited; for
although no personal feelings moved
me, yet was in q state of the utmost
uncertainty as to the outcome, while
the woman, although agitated by the
terrible grief, yet had not a doubt as
to what the message would be. And
it was no surprise to either of us, to
see the man stop at the gate and walk
slowly up the avenue leading to the
house.
The lady met him at the door. AS I
watched her standing there in the
twilight, swaying back and forth in her
agony, with her hand on the door knob
for support, 1 felt great throb of pity
at my heart, and at the same time q
certain awe for the two who were play
ing so great a part in the drama of
death.
The fact that the news had been ex-
pccted all day, and had been foretold in
dream, which 1 knew of only belong
ing to the mysterious past of King
Arthur and Froissart's Chronicles.
placed the characters before me on an
equality with the magicians of old
Granada. l shrunk back, feeling that
the cold wind which came through the
open door, had carried me back hun
dreds of years, and placed me in a
different age.
Even the calm, prosaic farmer with
his snow-white hair, and flowing beard,
seemed like some old seer, as he passed
his hand over his forehead, and tried
to collect his scattered thoughts. The
silence became terrible.
The pale-faced sufferer became i'm
patient.
"Speak!' she said, II can bear it
now as we'll as any other time.''
And then the farmer.looked up.
"Ah. yes;I remember, remember,
now, madam and his voice was low
and measured; madam, your husband
wants the calves turned into the little
pasture back of the barn."
Then he turned and rode away as
| swiftly as he came.
And still there are some people who
do not believe in dreams!