St. Landry democrat. (Opelousas, La.) 1878-1894, 1893-10-14
A Man i'm a Dream.
BY CHARLES W. HOOKE.
+ III the Year Round

|
In an eddy of the great stream which
GIBBS and flows along Broadway | founc
myself one afternoon Unexpectedly fac,
to face with my very good friend, DR.
Adolph Mayer. AS we stood there talk
ing, suddenly the doctor stretched forth
his hand and drew one whom he knew
out of the river of strangers. Thus be
camo acquainted with Mr.. Clarence Hail
whom, presently. the current bore away
again.
DR.. Mayer had seized rather eagerly,
thought, the opportunity for this intro
duction, and so | was not surprised that
he should ask me, when Hall had gone,
what had been my impression of his
friend.
''He is handsome fellow" said I,
land looks like an athlete"
''True; but as to his manner r.
"He seemed preoccupied. l thought
| at first that he might be deaf, because ]
noticed that you pronounced the intro,
duc;ory form with unusual distinctness. =
ellis hearing is all right
eyes, soon perceived that the trou-
BILE was in his faculty of directing his
attention. He gave me the idea of a
man in dream"
"You have hit it exactly" exclaimed
DR.. Mayer, "that's just what he is
could hardly take the doctors state
ment literally. Somnambulism on Broad
way at o'clock in the afternoon would
be too great wonder.
'Do you mean that he is in love?"
asked.
HE is in love-" was the reply, "but
that is only part of the dream. 1t was
not even the beginning of it,
~ don't understand"
"Of course you don't; but come, YOU
shall hear the whole story. There's no
objection to my telling it to you. THIS
case is the most remarkable in my ex-
perience, and the story will be W orth
your time"
We walked to the doctors office,
which was near by, and there [ stretched
myself in his great Cooperating chair"
and listened at my ease.
Hall was poor at 81 when he came out
of college," DR.. Mayer began. Gle was
alone in the world. The best offer of work
which he received-and it wasn't a good
one by any means-brought him to
this city. He had an artistic nature. and,
as believe, great literary ability; but,
bless you, he couldn't have made car
fare out of it. So he became a bank
clerk.
"He had great craving for wealth; not
for the luxuries it would bring, but
for the opportunities. Studious leisure
was what he wanted. He was not the
man to write poetry in a garnet, and he
knew it. There was no Disgusting the
fact that dull, hard labor made him
wretched, and he was one of those who
can no more produce that good thing of
which the seed is in them without hap
piness, than tree can bear its fruit
without sunshine. During his two years
servitude in the bank he did not once
put pen to paper except in the routine
of his daily toll.
''But such an imagination as his would
find an expression somehow. In his
case the creative power wrought dav
dreams. We all indulge ourselves in
these decisions more or less He would
be POOR creature who could not tell
himself better story than the pointess,
threadbare, barren tale of life. When
too much WEAKNESS denies us sleep we
gain at least counterfeit of peace by
painting restful scenes; we are the
stronger, | dare say, for fancied hero
isms. This is the natural remedy for
the nausea of existence, and it is good,
no doubt, in small doses. But Clarence
Hall carried the practice to dangerous
excess. He established regular dual
consciousness. He was jostled by the
crowd in an L train and at the same
time he fioated on the Bay of Naples
he worked in the bank at $40 week
and spent his entire revenues with lavish
hand in the bright world of fancy.
II did not know him then, but he
has told me that he could Danish reality
from every place but one, and that was
his little room on the East Side. There |
he led but one life, and that was torture.
His most wretched moment of the dav |
was that in which consciousness returned |
10 him after sleep. 1t was then that the
dull walls stared at him and the tawdry
furniture Knocked him and the hard truth |
vas like clenched fist shaken in his
lace.
Elsewhere, however, he was not un-
happy. His dreams at last had taken
definite form; they had become unified
INTO something like Chinese drama,
which requires month for its perform
lnce. He became rich in the first scene,
md always in the same way by inherit
lnce from relative of whom he had
lever heard. Then came a luxury at
lone, then travel and finally love. He
would keep his place, in this dream as
me does in book, and if driven into
ea.lty for few minutes he would then
Dick up the thread of dreamland's story,
where he had laid it down
1T was great grief to him that he
'ould not dream in his room. He got
lorror of the place, and at last he came
o believe that another, though equally
neager in its furnishings. might not
ave the Same baieful effect upon him
lie boarded with widow, Mrs. Rogers.
good woman who worked hard to sup
'ort two or three children. She re-
'arded Hall as model boarder, and