The sun. [volume] (Morris, Stevens County, Minn.) 1882-1895, 1891-09-24

NS - mant ell piece
m as well as l
could in the darkness, and lit q
match. My nervous terror had peo-
pied the room with all kinds OF hor-
rible mental images, which, wrought
to q high pitch of excitement, my i'm
agination had conjured. I was glad
when q flood of yellow gas-light dis
sipated them, and showed to me the
remotest corners of my bachelor
quarters, with glimpse of myself, in
the big mirror opposite, with face as
white as the sheets of my deserted
bed. Hooked at my watch. 1t was
ten minutes after midnight.
| took o cigar from the mantel-
piece-I am IL great Sunderland
sat down for a moment to try and
collect my ideas. | had had hor-
rible dream.
The taking OF the cigar, the lighting
and the smoking of it were all meChan-
ical actions which performed readi-
ly. When, however, began to try
and recall some particulars OF my
dream, my mind displayed a sluggish
ness in grasping the salient points OF
the mental vision which had come be-
fore me in my sleep which surprised
me. And yet my dream had been
most vivid and most terrible.
My mind had been wandering long
way off in that fitful unrest. l had
dreamed that | had been in Paris,
and that | had seen q murder.
| had never been in Paris. Where
had | heard of the Rue de Reverdy?
1t was in that street that my dream
had been located. 1t all came back to
me as | sat there putting away.
could see the victim Of my nightmare
lying upon the hearthrug of rather
foreign-looking room, well furnished,
with paintings and other art objects
upon the wall. The murdered man
for had seen q man stagger and fall
in my sleep-presented a dreadful
sight. Blood oozed from q terrible
cash in his throat. Through the open
window the yellow glare of the street
lamps f1ickered feebly in the light OF
the early dawn. Around me | heard
the rush and roar OF a great city
awakening to another day. Altogether
| had had horrible dream.
am, as you know, an artist. Be,
ing Chicago man, prefer to paint
Chicago pictures. l don't believe all
this humbug about q man not being 4
prophet in his own country. A paint
ing of one of our railroad depots at
night, almost finished stood on its
easel in an adjoining room, which
used as studio. l had gone to bed
the night before, intending to rise
early and throw in some more figure
work in the mid lie distance. There
was just space enough left for q mar
and a woman. l thought | would
throw in one OF those parting scenes
which we casually see in railroad de
pots, and which are sometimes sc
affecting.
went out and stood before the
picture, little drowsily; but soor
wide awake, and staring Open-mOuth
ed at my canvas. The man and wo
man, Just as | had conceived them il
my mind when lay down to sleep the
night previous, had been painted.
looked long and earnestly at thu
picture, and felt my senses beginning
to leave me. The features OF the maj
i had painted-must have painted
unconsciously during the night-wer,
the features of the man lying murder
ed in my dream, in the Rue de Rever
dy, in the City OF Paris.
The most remarkable thing, how
ever, about this sleep work was tha
l had entirely altered my plans
regarding the two figures. In
stead of placing them in tn
middle distance had brought then
boldly into the foreground. Their
they stood, the man and the woman
He, tall, dark, rather handsome fel
low of about 80 years of age, with 1
sad, refined face of the French arts
type, and strong, well-knit limbs, anC
altogether a hopeful, brave bearin
which seemed to say: Courage, w
will meet again" She, a woman no
over 20, with tender face, on whicl
were traces of recent tears, with red
dish, Titcianesque hair, blown il
graceful confusion across her charm
ing eyes and low, white forehead
as she stood with one tiny
gIoved hand in his, and held up tn
other with the finger-tips just restin
on his shoulder.
stood for fully five minutes lookin
at these two figures. There was on
more remarkable thing about them
Not only were they different in styl
! and treatment from anything | ha
ever painted before, but they were al
solutely faultless in drawing and co
oring. 1t was the finest bit of fgur
work l had ever done in my life. wa
absolutely dazed, confounded. If
could paint like that in my sleep, tn
sooner discovered the recei pit for dc
ing it-bad dreams or no bad dream
the better for my reputation as a
artist.
Tt was undoubtedly the finest bit {
work had ever accomplished. 1t wa
the making of the whole painting; an
it at once suggested the title.
Selling brush, painted it in on
corner of the canvas, with my nam
Q and the date.
. Icalled the picture "Good-bye."
e 1t was only o'clock in the mornin!
D was getting drowsy again. l wen
: back into my bedroom, got into be
and slept soundly.
II.
take my breakfast at the Cal
!; Mazarin, on Michigan avenue, ever
3 morning. 1t is handy and close t
my studio. do not, as q usual thin!
sit down to it before 8 O'Clock, which
late hour to breakfast in Chicago
3 The waiter, however, always keeps
! copy of the "Daily Trumpet" for M
j He sees that / have it, clean and FIRE
from coffee-stains and other objection
o able reminders of breakfasts whic
T have preceded mine, close alongsid
+ my plate in the particular place b
n the window he always reserves for MI
; The "Daily Trumpet" was thel
that morning as usual. l ordered m
q L,,r, LIE s,t nd hncrar, Ia .:aad -