The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1902-06-19
The Interpretation
~ OF a Dream.
BY Kennett r. Harris.
Copyrighted by Daily story Pub. Coz

ple that the dreamer who reaches the
termination of headlong aerial
Eight from the summit of dizzy
precipice or n remote planet dies on
that instant-iust as he would If the
precipice or planet was what the vul-
gar call real, meaning material. There
Is no need of inquiring too curiously
how this mortuary conclusion was ar
rived at in the first place, because
The ordinary methods of reasoning
fail when applied to certain investiga-
tions. The fact is sometimes discov-
cred by methods psychical rather
than logical-anybody knows that.
Anybody knows, too, that one in
rariably wakes up midhight, alive and
in cold perspiration, and, this be-
ing the case, il is not even illogical
TO suppose that, if he hit the bot
tom, perspiration and animation
would alike cease and determine ever
lastingly Then there is the we'll
authenticated case of Mr.. Edward La
Motto, which, as an exception, ought
to prove the general rule.
Mr.. La Motto hit the bottom. He
hit it hard, according to the story
that he told his friends some time
after. This may be accounted for
by the fact that he woke up on the
floor in a tangle of bedclothes at the
foot of the bed. But it does not have
TO be accounted for. He did not wake
up until after he lit, and he did not
die on the instant. How many sto-
Al. II II Il.
him up he does not attempt to re-
call. He went up, up, up swift as the
rockets fight. until the half naked
children of men toiling with their
rotten bricks and slime on Shinar's
plain below were shifting specks in
his straining eyes. From inches in
the massive circular masonry weird
faces showed themselves glaring at
him with hopeless, terror-inspiring
eyes. Fingers, upon which blood
mixed horribly with caking yellow
ooze, beckoned to him or were shaken
at him furiously and threateningly.
"You've passed my floor" said Mr.
La Motto to the elevator man.
But the elevator man, probably un-
derstanding nothing but archaic He
brew, only turned his pale olive face
towards him and moved the lever to
accelerate the speed of the flying
prison. He was a peculiarly taciturn
sort of chap, this elevator man, al
together lean as famine, so tall that
Mr.. La Motto had to throw his head
well back to see his face, and with
awful, mysterious eyes. His uniform
was waistcloth embroidered with
green snakes that writhed about the
fabric. and now and then escaped
from it, falling to the floor of the ele-
vatos and then vanishing with loud
hiss.
al wish you would stop" implored
Mr.. La Motto. "I'm not feeling well.
The soft-shell crabs / ate for supper
last night must have disagreed with
me-"
That was an absurd thing to say,
because Mr.. La Motto knew perfectly
well that four centuries had elapsed
since he walked into the rotunda of
the tower. But the elevator contin-
ued to shoot upward, and the grisly,
spectral faces and the waving arms
and hands became thicker than ever,
until at last they cleared the sum-
init of the tower and scared through
the cool night air toward the stars.
And now the genii of the upper
air, gigantic and in terrible shapes,
rame rushing furiously at them, bran
dishing luminous swords that wa
vered and quivered like the winter
lights in the northern heavens, but
as they struck the cage they became
mere clouds of mist and drifted away
on the wind, moaning with disap-
pointment or bowling with baffled
rage 1t was particularly trying to
the nerves, and the next time Mr.. La
Motto tried to speak he found that
his tongue was cleaving tightly to
the roof of his mouth.
Then suddenly something like a
guitar string snapped in Mr.. La
Notes head and the elevator man
uttered wild cry of alarm and tried
To jam his lever over But it was
too late; the elevator was already
falling with terrible velocity, and in
another instant it crashed on the
floor of the rotunda. The woodwork
broke like eggshells, the mirrors shiv-
cred and the ironwork twisted as If
il had been so much putty. Tons Of
steel cable fell on the ruin, and the
shrieks of the injured and the groans
of the dying rang and echoed through
the hall. 1t was some time before
Mr.. La Motto eXtricated himself and
found out where he was.
The next morning Mr.. La Motto
started for his office on the four
teenth floor of the Pandomic build
ing just as he had done with the ut
most regularity for the past ten
years. He was pressed for time, hav-
ing quite a little business to trans
act in time to get away and keep an
appointment, and his mind was busy
with method of work, SC that he
hurried down the hall almost uncon-
sciously and paused at the door of
the elevator waiting for the crowd