New Ulm weekly review. [volume] (New Ulm, Minn.) 1878-1892, 1891-09-23
A DUAL SOUL.
BY AUSTIN GRANVILLE.


match. My nervous terror had peo-
pied the room with all kinds OF hor-
rible mental images, which, wrought
to high pitch OF excitement, my i'm
agination had conjured. I was glad
when a flood of yellow gas-light dis
sipated them, and showed to me the
remotest corners Of my bachelor
quarters, with a 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.
I took a cigar from the mantel-
piece-I am a. great Sunderland
sat down for a. moment to try and
collect my ideas. I had had a 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 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.
4 My mind had been wandering long
way off in that ftful unrest. I had
dreamed that had been in Paris,
and that | had seen a murder.
II had never been in Paris. Where
had heard of the Rue de Reverdy?
B It was in that street that my dream
had been located. 1t all came back to
me as 1 sat there putting away. I
could see the victim Of my nightmare
lying upon the hearthrug OF a rather
foreign-looking room, we'll furnished,
with paintings and other art objects
upon the wall. The murdered man
for had seen a man stagger and fall
lin my sleep-presented a dreadful
sight. Blood oozed from terrible
cash in his throat. Through the open
window the yellow glare of the street
lamps fickered feebly in the light OF
s the early dawn. Around me heard
+ the rush and roar OF a great city
awakening to another day. Altogether
[ had had a horrible dream.
[ am, as you know, an artist. Be-
ing a Chicago man, prefer to paint
Chicago pictures. l don't believe all
this humbug about a man not being a
prophet in his own country. A paint
ing of one Of our railroad depots at
night, almost finished stood on it's
easel in an adjoining room, which
used as studio. ihad gone to bed
the night before, intending to rise
early and throw in some more figure
work in the middle distance. There
was just space enough left for a man
and a woman. I thought I would
throw in one of those parting scenes
which we casually see in railroad de-
pots, and which are sometimes sc
affecting.
l went out and stood before the
picture, a little drowsily; but soor
wideawake, and staring open-mouth
ed at my canvas. Thema and wo
man, just as had conceived them IL
my mind when lay down to sleep thu
night previous, had been painted.
Hooked long and earnestly at tn.
picture, and felt my senses beginnin!
to leave me. The features of the MAJ
1 had painted-must have painted
unconsciously during the night-wer
thefeatures 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 tina
I had entirely altered my plan
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, a tall, dark, rather handsome fe]
low Of about 80 years OF age, with
sad, refined face of the French arts
type, and strong, well-knit limbs, am
altogether hopeful, brave bearin
which seemed to say: "Courage, W
will meet again" She, woman no
over 20, with tender face, on which
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
gloved hand in his, and held up tn
other with the fnger-tips just restin
on his shoulder.
stood for fully five minutes lookin
at these two figures. There was on
more remarkable thing about then
Not only were they different in styl
and treatment from anything [ ha
ever painted before, but they were AZ
solutely faultless in drawing and co
4oring. 1t was the finest bit of fgur
work I had ever done inmy life. 7 wa
absolutely dazed, confounded. Il
could paint like that in my sleep, tn
sooner discovered the receipt for dc
ing it-bad dreams or no bad dream
the better for my reputation as a
artist.
Itwas undoubtedly the finest bit {
work | had ever accomplished. It wa
the making OF the whole painting; an
il at once suggested the title.
Selling a brush, / painted it in on
corner Of the canvas, with my nam
and the date