Citation
With the dream-maker

Material Information

Title:
With the dream-maker
Creator:
Habberton, John, 1842-1921
Claghorn, J. C ( Illustrator )
George W. Jacobs & Co ( Publisher )
Place of Publication:
Philadelphia
Publisher:
George W. Jacobs & Co.
Publication Date:
Language:
English
Physical Description:
112 p., [5] leaves of plates : ill. ; 20 cm.

Subjects

Subjects / Keywords:
Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Dreams -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Fantasy literature -- 1898 ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1898
Genre:
Fantasy literature ( rbgenr )
novel ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage:
United States -- Pennsylvania -- Philadelphia
Target Audience:
juvenile ( marctarget )

Notes

Summary:
Phil Fuzzytop dreams that he encounters an old man who has been creating dreams for thousands of years for the inhabitants of North America and the neighboring islands.
Statement of Responsibility:
by John Habberton ; illustrated by J.C. Claghorn.

Record Information

Source Institution:
University of Florida
Holding Location:
University of Florida
Rights Management:
This item is presumed to be in the public domain. The University of Florida George A. Smathers Libraries respect the intellectual property rights of others and do not claim any copyright interest in this item. Users of this work have responsibility for determining copyright status prior to reusing, publishing or reproducing this item for purposes other than what is allowed by fair use or other copyright exemptions. Any reuse of this item in excess of fair use or other copyright exemptions may require permission of the copyright holder. The Smathers Libraries would like to learn more about this item and invite individuals or organizations to contact The Department of Special and Area Studies Collections (special@uflib.ufl.edu) with any additional information they can provide.
Resource Identifier:
026798384 ( ALEPH )
ALH1353 ( NOTIS )
51397383 ( OCLC )
98000155 ( LCCN )

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5





With the Dream-Maker





The four immediately stood in a row and began to sing
softly—Page 19 ;



With
The Dream-Maker

By

John Habberton

Author of ‘‘Helen's Babies,’’ ‘‘All He Knew,’’

“« Worst Boy in Town,’’ etc.

Illustrated by
J. C. CLAGHORN

PHILADELPHIA
GEORGE W. JACOBS & CO.
1898



Copyright by
GEORGE W. JACOBS & CO,
1898









List of Illustrations

PAGE
THE FOUR IMMEDIATELY STOOD IN A ROW AND
BEGAN TO SING SOFTLY Frontispiece
I WONDER WHETHER ’TWAS ONLY A DREAM . 7
HERE'S THE PRINCIPAL STORE-ROOM. : : 38
HE BEGAN TO WONDER HOW THIS DISCOVERY .
COULD BE MADE USEFUL. : 7 : 67

It’s aS BIG AS—-WHY, THERE ISN’T ANYTHING
>
ANYWHERE ! . . . . . 93





1 wonder whether ‘twas only a dream 2—Page 7



“T WONDER,” drawled little Phil Fuzzy-

top, as he awoke one morning, very
early, and groped among the bedclothes for
the large bag of marbles which he had owned
in dreamland a moment before, “I wonder
whether ’twas only a dream? No—‘there it
is’—but it isn’t; that’s one leg of my night-
suit, with my knee pushing round lumps into
it. I declare, I think it’s too mean for any-
thing. Oh, there—pshaw!—that’s no mar-
ple; ’tis one of my toes. I wonder where
our dreams come from? I don’t think the
person who sends them can be very nice, for
the lovelier the dreams are, the forlorner—I
feel when—I wake—and—find—.”

Little Phil could not have said his last few
words very rapidly, even had he been offered
as many marbles as he had missed a few
moments before, for he was again falling fast
asleep. Suddenly, however, he thought him-
self very wide awake once more, and dressed

7



With the Dream-Maker

in his day clothing, and in a place he had

never seen before, except in his school-book

about geography, when he opened the book

upside down. It was a mountainous country,

but the mountains were wrong side up, and.
rested upon their peaks, so their new tops,

or old bottoms, hid the sky entirely, and

between them they formed arches like some

Phil had seen in church, only they were a
hundred times higher.

“Dear me,” exclaimed Phil to himself,
‘“T’m somewhere that I shouldn’t be, I’m
sure, for mamma says I must never go off of
the sidewalk, and there’s no sidewalk here at
all. I ought to hurry home, and say that I
didn’t mean to come here. I wonder which ©
way home is? I wish I could see a police-
man, but I can’t see a person of any kind,
and there aren’t any corners, with street
names on them, Oh, there’s a mah. [I'll
ask him whether he knows my papa, and can
show me the way home.”

The person whom Phil saw was an old
man with a shrewd though kind face. He had

8



With the Dream-Maker

just come from behind a mountain-peak and
was sauntering forward, looking to the right
and left, as if expecting some one, though
not in haste. He began taking off his coat,
as if to go to work; when he espied Phil, he
exclaimed :

“Come, come! This will never do. I
don’t allow my messengers to wear clothing
as good as yours. You'll waste time in try-
ing to get your clothes.dirty, and just when
some one wants his dream, too, if it is to be
of any use to him.”

Phil did not know that he was a messen-
ger in the employ of the old man, but he was
so surprised at what he had already seen,
that he could not wonder much at any thing,
so he replied :

“Tm not one of your messengers, sir,
but’ if you send out dreams, I should like
to select some now for myself. There was
some mistake about the last one I had. Then
I'll be obliged if you can show me the way
home, for mamma may be worried about me.
. It seems almost a whole day since I saw her.”

9.



IT

Wee Phil spoke the old man ap-
proached him, looked curiously at
him, and said:

“Ah, I see! ’Tisn’t strange, though, that
I made a mistake, for you're the first real boy
I’ve seen in a thousand years or more. Even
then I saw but one, and I shouldn’t have seen
him if it hadn’t have been for a dream that
I made for him. It had to be used with great
care, or it wouldn’t work right, so to prevent
possible mistakes I delivered it in person.”
i “Do you really make dreams for peo-

ple?” gasped Phil.

“Indeed I do, and I’m a very busy
man. Would you believe it?—I’ve not had
a vacation since the Pilgrim Fathers’ first
year in this country.”

“Gracious!” exclaimed Phil; “how
did you get one then?”

“Oh, you see, the Pilgrims had very
little to eat that winter, so their digestions

IO



With the Dream-Maker

never got out of order, and they did so
much real thinking by daylight that they
had no mind to waste on dreams at night.”

“But didn’t you give the poor Indians
any dreams?”

“Indeed, yes; but that was easy. I
kept a great lot that were exactly alike, and
I used to send them out every night by the
bag full, My messengers had only to drop
a handful of dreams about eating and killing
whenever they saw an Indian hut. In those
days there was no sending out to learn what
was needed in my line, but now there must
be about as many dreams as people, and a
lot of my stock must be made to suit special
cases. In the old times I could have
got along nicely, except for loneliness—I
couldn’t make company of my messengers,
you see—'twould have put an end to
discipline. Finally, though, I got an assist-
ant, and I remember that day as_ well
as if it were yesterday. "Twas the very
day that Christopher Columbus sighted Cat
Island.”

II



With the Dream-Maker

«Dear me!” exclaimed Phil; ‘did
you know Columbus ?”

“Know Columbus?” echoed the old
man. Then he sighed as he answered, “I
should say I did know Columbus—the first
white man I ever made dreams for in this
country, except those Northmen who used
to coast between Greenland and Rhode
Island. They didn’t bother me much, though ;
I tried a lot of the Indian dreams on them,
and scarcelyanyone complained. But Colum-
bus—why, the first night I looked after him
I had to make thirty-seven new dreams, with
my hand dreadfully out of practice, too ; for
you see, until I came over here | had been
merely an apprentice. North America and
the neighboring islands are my territory.”

12



Ii]

a Tl OW did you come to be selected for
the position?” asked Phil.

“By way of punishment and reforma-
tion,” was the reply. “I was learning the
business, in the European establishment,
and like any other new hand at a business,
I thought I knew more than my elders.
One night, just as I had finished a new
dream after a design of my own, I was sent
out to carry a dream to King Alfred of
England—perhaps you’ve heard of him ?”

“The king that hooked barley meal to
make pudding of?”

' “The very same,” replied the old man,
patting Phil approvingly on the head, “and
I’m glad to know that you remember your
history lessons so well. I got into trouble
through that very meal. You see, the King
hadn’t eaten any pudding in a long time, so
when he stole the meal and knew what was
to be done with it, his mouth began to water,

13

d



With the Dream-Maker

and he ate nothing for dinner, but saved his
appetite for the pudding. He ate too much
of it, for the pudding was very rich on account
of the suet the queen put into it—‘Great
lumps of fat, as big as my two thumbs’—
and it disagreed with him. The matter was
reported to our manager as soon as the King
began to toss uneasily in bed, but as the
manager was a monarchist, as every one was
in those days, he decided to give the King a
gently troublous dream-—something that
wouldn’t bother him much more than the
beginning of a toothache. As I said, the
dream was given me to carry—we didn’t
serve kings by common messengers—no,
indeed! I dropped the dream into my pocket
and away I went, but my own new dream
which was in another pocket, kept reminding
me of its existence, and suddenly I thought
that of all persons in the world, a king would
be just the man to try that dream upon.”

‘“Why did you think so?”

‘‘ Because, as J made it myself, I thought
it was too good to waste upon common folks.

14









With the Dream-Maker

Now, that.I look back at it, there wasn’t much
to that dream, yet when it got to work the
King threshed about in his bed at a great
rate, and told a lot of state secrets in his
sleep. First he thought he stretched hun-
dreds of feet ; then he thought he was a mere
mite. I tell you ’twas fine.”

“But how did the manager find out that
you had changed the dreams ?.”

“Ah!” sighed the old man, ‘there’s the
sad part of the tale. Never having tried
sucha thing before, how was I to know what
the other dream would do? I learned that
night, to my sorrow, that a dream can never
return to the shop where’ it belongs until it
has done the work for which it was sent out.
The next day after my experiment, and at
noon exactly, the manager went through the
establishment to see that everything was
ready for night, and the place where the
King’s dream should have been was empty ; I
was sent for, and when I confessed there was
a terrible time.”

“What happened, please?”

15



With the Dream-Maker

«Oh, all the messengers were sent out to
look for the missing dream, It was found at
last, but dreadfully tired, for it had been run-
ning all over the world looking for some
king who had been eating pudding made of
barley meal which he had stolen, but not one
couldit find. Every kingit visited had stolen
something else, but dreams are too honest
to take advantage of quibbles, so that poor .
dream has roamed about from that day to
this. It’s in this country now, hoping that
some day America will have a king, and
arguing that if it does, he will be mean
enough to steal and eat any thing. Once it
_had hopes ; it was‘at the Sandwich Islands
when the King was dreadfully hungry, and
was about to use some barley meal that
Captain Cook’s sailors had brought ashore
but puddings must be boiled a long time,
and as His Majesty was in great haste he
dined on the Captain instead.”



IV

=“) you say you were sent over here
as manager while you were a mere
apprentice?” Phil asked.

“Yes, and frightfully lonesome I found
myself when I arrived. There were only
about twenty people in the country at the
time, and they did not keep me busy; they
were a miserable lot of Pacific island fisher-
men whose boat had been blown to our coast
by a storm, and ’twas hundreds of years
before there were enough of their descend-
ants, the Indians, and far enough apart, to
give me an excuse to ask for assistance.
Even then, as I said before, all the natives
used the same kind of dream, until Columbus
came.”

“Won't you tell me about some of the
dreams you gave Columbus? You said,
you know, that you gave him a great lot.”

“Oh, to be sure. Well, you know he’d
been sailing for weeks, and finally ———”

2



17



With the Dream-Maker

Just here a very small boy, who looked to
be a thousand years old, and in a suit of
clothes as old as himself, and unlike any
Phil had ever seen, rushed in from some-
where and exclaimed:

“Please, sir, little Ned Jenks, of Shag-
ticoke, has kicked all the cover from his bed,
and is beginning to shiver.”

“Take him Number Forty-nine,” said
the manager promptly. Then he turned to
Phil and remarked, “By the way, Forty-
nine is a very useful dream; perhaps you
would like to see it in operation.”

“ Oh, I would, ever so much,”’ exclaimed
Phil, “if it wouldn’t trouble you too much.”

“No trouble whatever,” the old man
replied; then he stopped the messenger,
saying,

“Just exhibit that dream to my young
friend here.”

The messenger put his hand into his
pocket and took out what seemed to be
a handful of very small balls, but each of
them stretched at once to the shape and

18



With the Dream-Maker

size of aman. They were very funny men.
Each was extremely thin, and his clothing
was thinner; all had long, thin white hair
and beards, their faces were pale and wrink-
led, their fingers long and thin, their eyes a
watery blue and very sleepy-looking, and
even the force of Phil’s breath set them to
swaying and shivering.

‘“Isn’t that a beautiful dream,’’ asked the
old man, rubbing his hands with great satis-
faction, ‘to send toa boy who’s been kicking
off his bedclothes? But bless me !—I’ve for-
gotten to show you the best part of it. Now,,
men—business !”

The four immediately stood in a row
and began to sing softly, but with very high,
harsh voices, and in a hopeless, dismal way,
as follows:

‘«‘Snivvery, snavvery, sneevy, snaw ;
Bivvery, bavvery, beevy, baw ;
Kivvery, kavvery, keevy, kaw ;
Whivvery, whavvery, whay.’’

Then they all shivered, and repeated the
song. After they had done this several

19



With the Dream-Maker

times, Phil, himself, began to shiver, so the
singers, at a signal from the old man, got
back into the messenger’s pocket and were |
taken away.

“T never heard that song before,” Phil
remarked,

‘“‘Haven’t you, though? I’m astonished ; I
supposed every little boy in America had
used that dream. But I was going to tell
you about Columbus.”

20



V

and exclaimed :

“The President of the United States—’

“You don’t mean to tell mé that he is
asleep this early-in the night?” interrupted
the manager. ‘Come to think of it, though,
Congress isn’t in session, and he is doing
his best to make up for lost time, poor man!
Well—the President of the United States— ?”

“__Has eaten two pieces of mince pie for
dinner.”

“And he dines at six in the evening,
too,” exclaimed the manager. ‘“That’s just
the way office-holders crowd work upon us
poor working men! One would suppose
that the President would know better. Well,
let me think ; what dream shall I send him?
I'll send the one with grandmothers, which
we generally use on small boys who've eaten
too much pie, but the President sees grannies
too often by daylight, to be frightened by

2I

ee then another messenger hurried in

’



With the Dream-Maker

them. I have it ;—I’ll try on him that dream
that Esau had after eating that mess of pot-
tage, for which he sold his birthright.”

“Oh, how did you get that?” cried Phil.

“Tt’s one of the lot that was given me as
an outfit when I was sent over from Europe,”
explained the old man. ‘‘Our manager got
it in his own outfit, when he was sent from
Asia to establish the European office, but
it was by that time an old-fashioned thing,
and the manager, being young and notional,
insisted on using in such cases a dream made
by himself, so the Esau dream finally got
into the bundle of odds and ends that were
thought good enough for me to use in a
new country. When I first came over I tried
it on an Indian who had taken a twenty-
pound salmon for dinner, after having had
nothing to eat for a week before. But the
dream didn’t work right; dreams are funny
things, anyway, and very sensitive to changes
of scene and climate. When that Esau
dream reached the Indian and began busi-
ness, it seemed to get out of order in some

22



With the Dream-Maker

way. When it was sent to Esau, it dropped
horses and camels and other animals on his
breast, while he couldn’t move hand or foot
to drive them away. When it operated upon
the Indian, however, the animals got under
him and pranced about, which delighted that
savage so much that he and all his kind have
stuffed themselves almost to death whenever
they’ve had the chance.”

“Where did you live before you went
into the dream business?” Phil ventured
to ask.

“Oh, I must tell you about my youthful
period,” the old man replied. ‘“ Havea seat ;
be careful, though, to not lean against the
mountain ; you might knock it over. Well,
in the first place—”

23



VI

“ TOEY Banks again,” interrupted a mes-
senger, who had just come in with a
resigned expression on his face.

«Same trouble?” asked the old man.

‘The very same,” replied the messenger.

“Give him the same old dream, then,”
said the manager, and then he sat down
upon a wee mountain peak that had been
broken off, and unconsciously dropped into
a soliloquy. ‘It beats all,” said he, “that
Joey Banks can’t see that he brings that
. dream on himself. He i

“Jo—Joey Banks?” exclaimed Phil, who
had been standing speechless with astonish-
ment since the arrival of the messenger,
and had just found his tongue, “why—lI
know him!”

“Do you?” said the old man, without
manifesting a bit of the surprise that Phil
had anticipated; ‘well, I hope he doesn’t
make you half the trouble he makes me.



24,



With the Dream-Maker

I'm entirely out of patience with that
boy,

‘Does he come here very often ?” asked
Phil, thinking at the same time that it was a
little too mean for Joey never to have told
him of this wonderful place.

“Come here?” echoed the old man;
“don’t I wish he did?—don’t I wish he’d
come here just once? I bear no malice
toward anyone, but I would willingly lose my
breakfast to give that little scamp a good,
hard shaking.”

“Dear me!” exclaimed Phil; “ what has
he done? I thought he was a pretty nice
boy; he’s one of the very few boys that
mamma is willing I should play with.”

“What has he done? He has used one
of my finest dreams so often that it is com-
pletely worn out; it’s been to the repair
shop again and again, until the master-
repairer says there’s nothing to do but to
make a new one just like it.”

“J shouldn’t think you'd let him play
with it,” ventured Phil, who was somewhat

25



With the Dream-Maker

puzzled to know how Joey could do such
mischief with the dream-maker’s property if
he never visited the place.

“You don’t understand, my boy,” said
the manager. ‘He has ruined this dream
by steady use; we have had to send it to
him—well, I should say certainly four nights
a week for about a year. I wouldn’t com-
plain if it seemed to be doing him any good,
but it isn’t.”

““Why do you send it to him so much?”
asked Phil.

‘Because he compels us to do so. You
see, every evening, when he can, he sneaks
into the dining-room after the family have
finished supper, stuffs himself at the sugar-
bowl. Evenings when they have company
—say two or three every week—he can’t
do it, because company always sits at table
late, and Joey is sent to bed early. But
when he goes to bed with a stomach full of
sugar, and the coats of his stomach becomes
irritated, his blood grows too hot, his head
gets in a blaze, and we have to send him

26



With the Dream-Maker

a dream that does justice to the case.
Perhaps you'd like to see what we do for
Joey? Here, Gruesome, just set the dream
at work—Joey can wait for a single minute,

I think.”

27



Vil

HE sad-faced messenger took some-
thing from his pocket, stooped down,
and emptied his hand on the ground. Phil
looked, and thought he saw a full assortment
of the animals from a very tiny Noah’s ark.
As the creatures expanded, however, as all
dreams do when ready for business, Phil was
greatly troubled to know which animal was
which, for the donkey had a lion’s head, the
cat had paws and claws protruding from all
parts of her body, the goat walked on his
_ hind legs only and was dreadfully cross-eyed,
the horns of the cow were as long as the
tusks of an elephant, the elephant himself
had eyes as large as soup plates, and of the
most fiery red, while there were porcupines,
and a cur dog with a head at each end, and
mosquitoes that carried police clubs, and vari-
ous other beasts that Noah would never have

allowed in the ark on any account.
“Now you see,” said the old man, as the

28



With the Dream-Maker

creatures continued to expand, ‘why, bless
me, what’s become of the boy? Here,” he
continued, as he spied a shaking elbow behind
the coat-tails of the messenger, “don’t be
afraid. Tl make them smaller at once; I
forgot that you weren’t in the business.”
The old man snapped the fingers of one hand
as he gently led Phil forward with the other,
and the creatures all began to shrink.

“Tell me when they’re small. enough,”’
said the manager. ‘I like visitors to be
suited.”

“That is about right, I guess,” said Phil,
as the figures reached the size of the animals
in a large toy ark.

“Very good,” said the manager. “Now
when the whole arrangement was in good
working order, you can imagine what an
uncomfortable night it would make for Joey,
but now one of the heads of the dog wags
like a tail, and the mosquito has lost its voice
through so many violent changes of temper-
ature, and the cat has worn her claws com-
pletely out on the head-board of Joey’s bed,

29



With the Dream-Maker

and the whole combination is generally out
of order, and it’s no small matter to replace
its

“Any one of those things would be bad
enough for me,”’ said Phil, with a shudder.

“Would it?” replied the old man, with
an earnest look of inquiry. ‘Then you
never stole sugar, I guess. Hurry it along,
Gruesome; try to make up for lost time.
Oh—I was going to tell you about the dream
I sent Columbus.”

30



VIII

Y the way,” continued the old man,
“what did you say your name was?”

“My name is Philip Hastie Fuzzytop,”
answered Phil, who was too polite to remind
the old man that he had not previously said
anything whatever about his name.

«Phil Fuzzytop,” said the manager, mus-
ingly, “Phil Fuzzytop—h’m! Let me see;
the last dream I sent you was one about
marbles, wasn’t it?”

“My gracious!” exclaimed Phil, in great
surprise, as he recalled his last dream ; “did
that come from here?”

“Certainly,” said the old man briskly.
“Would you like to see it again? I'll show
it to you in a few minutes, if you'll remind
me of it. It’s out just at present ; we're
using it on another little chap.”

Phil was a very mannerly little boy, and
always spoke respectfully to grown people,
and particularly to old men, but as he recalled
his disappointment at not finding that bag of

31



With the Dream-Maker

marbles in bed when he awoke, he deter-
mined to remonstrate with the old gentleman.

“T don’t think,” said he, timidly, “that it
was very kind to cheat a little boy in that way.
And it was such a big bag of marbles that
I felt dreadful when I found I had lost it.”

“Poor little fellow!” said the old man
tenderly, as he smoothed Phil’s hair, “it
made me feel dreadful, too, but I can’t act
according to my feelings. I don't decide
what dreams people are to have ; I only send
them out. All persons arrange for their own
dreams, though very few of them seem to
know it, You'd seen some other boy, with
a lot of marbles, that day, I believe?”

“1 believe you know everything,” said
Phil, looking a little afraid of his questioner.

“Not quite,” laughed the old man, “ But
you’d seen Sammy Glenn's marbles that day,
hadn't you?”’

“Yes,” said Phil, “twenty-seven com-
mons, four China alleys, a bull’s eye, anda
glass one, and I wanted a lot just like them
—wanted them awfully.”

32



With the Dream-Maker

“But your papa thought you had marbles
enough, because those that you had were
always on the floor, to make people’s feet go
suddenly from under them, make the nurse
tumble with the baby, and the cook, when
bringing dinner to the table.”

‘“Why, did my papa tell you all about it,
and ask you to give me that dream to punish
me?” asked Phil, almost ready to cry.

‘Oh, no; you kept wanting the marbles,
when you knew your parents thought it best
for you not to have them—that was how you
came by the dream. Here it comes, now,”
continued the speaker, selecting a small
package, no larger than one’s finger-end,
from among the dreams which a returning
messenger was assorting so as to put them
away. ‘Havea look?” :

“No, I thank you,” said Phil with a sigh,
as the package dilated to the size of a well-
filled marble bag.

“Good boy!” said the old man approv-
ingly; “I don’t believe you will ever need
that dream again.”

3

33



IX

“s ERHAPS,” the dream-maker said, after
regarding Phil tenderly a moment, ed

can show you something nicer. Has number

Ninety-three come in yet. Bright-eye?”’

“Aye, aye, sir!” responded a cheery voice
from the inner recesses of the apartment ;
“just done with, Worked the whole thing,
too.”

“Quite right,” said the manager approv-
ingly ; “the little girl deserved it. She has a
baby brother, and a sister not much older,
so in spite of mother and nurse there is some-
-times a great lot of baby-tending to do in
that family. To-day the two youngsters were
very peevish, and the mother was very busy
at some sewing that was behindhand, so the
little girl gave up ber play and was baby-
nurse all day. She was dreadfully tired when .
she went to bed—almost too tired to dream,
but we sent her this.”

As the old man spoke, the attendant,

34



With the Dream-Maker

named Bright-eye, brought in a tiny play-
house, which, expanding as the other dreams
had done, proved to be perfect in every way,
and fully furnished, with a beautiful garden
surrounding it, a piano and musical box in the
parlor, some handsomely dressed visitors in
the reception room, and a very tidy cook in
the kitchen.

“There,” said the old man, “we left that
dream with her until she had enjoyed it to
her heart’s content. We could have sent her
brother something equally jolly if he had
made himself as useful, but when his mother
asked him to mind the baby for only five
minutes, he snarled out, “Oh, dear!” just
because he was sailing a boat in a basin of
water, and didn’t want his fun interrupted.”

“What—what’s the little girl’s name?”
asked Phil, his eyes opening very wide.

“Nellie Fuzzytop,” replied the old man.
“Why,” continued he, looking at Phil, “I do
believe it’s your own sister I’ve been telling
you about? Well, well—and you're the boy
that wouldn’t look out for his baby brother

35



With the Dream-Maker

for a few minutes? Too bad—too bad. Do
you know, I’d give the best dream in my col-
lection if I had a baby brother to take care
of—I really would.”

The old man looked very lonesome as he
said this, and then Phil noticed that a tear
had found its way out of each of his eyes.
All this touched Phil’s heart, which was very
tender, so he softly gave his companion’s
hand a squeeze, which seemed to give great
comfort to the owner of millions of dreams,
but not a single baby brother.

36



X

i ELL, well, this will never do,” said the
manager, finally, after picking Phil
up in his arms and giving him a hearty hug.
“The heavy work of the night will begin pretty
soon, and I must see that everything is in
proper order. I can trust the boys to attend
to the early sleepers, but when it comes to the
late, irregular people—party-goers, gamblers,
congressmen, drunkards, gay young men and
that sort of thing, besides the people who sit
up far into the night over schemes they might
better let alone—why, then I must attend to
my own business or there will be trouble.
Perhaps you'd like to come inside?”

“I should like to very much, if I won’t be
in the way,” said Phil.

‘No danger,” said the manager, leading
the way, ‘‘we’ve any quantity of room here ;
two used-up mountain ranges turned upside
down and tipped toward each other.”

“Where does the light come from?”

37



With the Dream-Maker

asked Phil. ‘I don’t see any gas burners or
lamps.”

“Light?—Oh! Well, when we turned
the mountains over, we left, just as it was,
the sunlight that was on their sides; it’s
plenty good enough for our business. Here,”
continued Phil’s guide, turning to the right a
peak which was upside down and seemed
to have a great lot of sunlight behind it;
‘“here’s the principal store-room.”’

Phil looked around him; the place was
as neat as his mamma’s newly-furnished bed-
chamber, and the walls were thickly studded
with niches, hooks and brackets, most of
which contained dreams, but it seemed to
Phil very small to hold all the dreams neces-
sary to North America, and he said as much
to the manager.

“Small?” queried the old man with a
mystified stare. “Oh, I see; you've for-
gotten that our dreams, when not in use,
occupy the very tiniest bit of space. Why,
see here,” said he, pointing to what looked
like a dewdrop with a sparkle of dust in it,

38









Here’s the principal store-room—Page 38



With the Dream Maken

“here’s a dream I have to keep ten thousand
duplicates of ; it’s the flowery-garden dream
that we send to lovers when they first begin.
To save the vegetation from drying up we
have to keep the dream moist when not in
use, and how much water do ‘you suppose it
takes for the lot?”

‘‘Oh, whole oceans,” said Phil.

The old man laughed heartily and replied:
‘Just one drop. There are the whole ten
thousand in that drop of water, and there’s
room left for ten million more.”

“Goodness me!” exclaimed Phil, com-
pletely overcome.

39



XI

a ERE’S another instance,” said the old
man, adjusting his glasses and feeling
and looking cautiously about a small crevice,
from which he finally took a small silver box
and shook something which, under a magni-
fying glass that he handed Phil, looked likea
very small and dingy pearl, “here’s the whole
assortment of dreams we send to honest
politicians. That bag hasn’t been opened
for—well, not this year; I overlooked it last
inspection day, somehow, but it didn’t mat-
“ter ; we haven’t needed anything out of it.”

“Inspection day ?”’ echoed Phil. “What
sort of a day is that? Is it anything like
election day?”

‘Not exactly,” said the old man. “It’s
something like what your mother would call
the autumn house cleaning—a day in which
we get out and examine all the dreams. Ah,
you should be here then. Every dream is
taken out, worked up to its full size, and

40



With the Dream-Maker

thoroughly examined. -You talk about this
store-room being small—I wonder what you
would say if you were to see us at inspec-
tion. Why, the things fill all the space be-
tween these two mountain ranges—thirteen
thousand square miles of dreams. That’s
why we need so much room here ; even now
some of the dreams have to stand outside on
inspection day, and every year I declare I'll
‘have to put on an extension. I hardly know
what mountains to use though.”

“Tl tell you,” said Phil ; “take the twenty-
five highest ones in the world, because my
geography teacher makes me study the
names and altitudes of them; it’s an awful
hard job ; it makes my head ache fit to split.”

“You don’t mean to say she does that?”
asked the old man. ‘‘ Well, Pll just put up
a dream for her that will set her thinking—
Pll do it as sure as my name’s—”

Phil jumped with eagerness, for he felt
that he had been simply dying to know the
name of his companion, though he wouldn’t
have asked it for the world. But he was

41



With the Dream-Maker

doomed to disappointment, for a sudden idea
struck the old man, and he slapped his knee
and exclaimed :

“T have it! I’ll send over to Europe and
see if I can’t get the Alps for my extension ;
they'll suit my purpose perfectly, and then
there won’t be so many foolish fellows risk-
ing their lives at mountain climbing every
year just because a few wise men did it
before them. Ill try to use some of your
bugbears too, though, for we need height in
which to show off some of the bigger dreams
that are too light to stay on the ground with-
out being fastened. Then won’t inspection
be a grand affair? It’s no small thing now,
though, as you may imagine—by the way,
suppose you drop in at the next inspection,
if you don’t have anything better to do?”

“Oh, Pll be sure to come,” said Phil,
eagerly. ‘Please tell me when it will be.”

“Ah, there’s the trouble,” said the old
man, suddenly looking perplexed. ‘To
make up my mind when to have inspection
is what bothers me more than anything else

42



With the Dream-Maker

in this business. You see, it’s almost impos-
sible to find a time when all the dreams are
here. Dreaming time practically lasts seven-
teen hours out of the twenty-four, because
six o'clock, the time when very little children
go to bed, doesn’t come in California until
five hours later than in New England, and
at nearly every hour of the day some one
is asleep somewhere. I hadn’t any such
trouble when I first began these inspections
—it was soon after the Puritans landed.
You see, they had three or four fast days a
year, when they went to bed with quiet
stomachs, and didn’t need any dreams at all ;
and as for the Indians, I always had dupli-
cates that I could use on them. But every
year the question grew more puzzling.
The fellows who came over to Virginia didn’t
have any fast days, for they were pretty fast
all the year round,—ha! ha !—eh?”’

43



XII

HE old gentleman paused a moment,
looked at Phil, and then seemed rather
chagrined that his pun was not laughed at.
Suddenly remembering, however, that the
boy was too young to see the point of such
a joke, he smoothed his forehead and con-
tinued : wilt
‘ Those Virginia settlers were hot bloods
who needed new and special dreams by the
score; the Spaniards and French who
attempted to settle, were worse yet, and the
Dutch who founded New Amsterdam, after-
wards New York, though outwardly quieter,
were, on the whole, just as bad. Why some
of the dreams I had to give those Dutchmen,
when they went to bed ona stomach full of »
greasy crullers, are among the most dreadful
things in my collection. I have not much use
for them now, though, except for certain little
boys on Thanksgiving Day.”
“You were lucky in having somebody

44



With the Dream-Maker

that you didn’t have to make new dreams for,
anyhow,” said Phil; «The Indians, I mean.”

«Bless you,” said the old man, “ they
soon became as troublesome as anybody else.
Wherever white men settled they carried rum
with them; they gave it to the Indians, and
from that time to this I’ve had precious little
use for my original Indian collection. Up to
fifty years ago I was all right with the red-
skins west of the Mississippi, but the hunters
began to creep out that way, and hunters
always carry whiskey, you know ; then folks
began to scurry across the plains to dig’ gold
in California more whiskey — finally the
government sent out a lot of rascals called
Indian agents—still more whiskey—and since
then every Indian tribe has been a torment
to me.

“By the way,” continued the old man,
passing a bracket and set of hooks completely
covered with cobwebs, ‘“‘here’s a lot of anti-
quated dreams that may have made people
think hardly of me, but I want it distinctly
understood that I’m not in any way to blame.

45



With the Dream-Maker

As I said before, I don’t determine what
dreams people are to use—they do it them-
selves. My business is simply to supply what
is demanded by each person. This old lot is
the Salem witchcraft set.”

“Ugh-gh-gh!” said Phil, with an uncon-
trollable shiver, ‘I think I had better go

home now—I’m sure mamma wants me.”

46



XIII

ic ON’T be frightened, little fellow,” said

the old man, tenderly. “ None of them
will ever trouble you—you're too full of
healthy spirits. But I want to explain my posi-
tion. The Puritans came over here from Eng-
land, you know, to be able to worship as they
pleased, and a very plucky and honorable
thing it was to do—I’d have done it myself
if I’d been in their fix. But they didn’t real-
ize what they’d left behind them. They'd
left all the acquaintances of the kind that
don’t seem to amount to much until you get
away from them ; all the life and scenes they
were familiar with ; nearly all the affairs they
had been in the habit of seeing, thinking
about and interesting themselves in, though
probably they didn’t realize it. I tell you
that earnest people, as they were, need
many things to keep their minds busy—they
left all that and came over here, where they
had only people of their own kind to look

47



With the Dream-Maker

at and talk to—only trees and huts around’
them, instead of the busy, varying scenes of
the Old World. It had a bad effect on them.
The first generation stood it pretty well, for
they were grown up when they came, but
the next was cross-grained and twisted, and
the next was all that, and top-heavy besides.
‘All work and no play makes Jack a dull
boy ’—you’ve heard that, I suppose? And
all think and no fun addles the brains of an
earnest man. They tried to think of only
one subject; they thought about things too
big for them, and when anybody does that he’s
worse off than if he’d never thought at all.”
“T guess I know how they felt,” said Phil ;
“’twas something like I feel after I've had to
puzzle over mixed fractions for six hours.”
“Exactly,” said the old man, patting Phil
approvingly on the back. ‘ You’ve hit it to
a dot; only, your parents and grandparents
haven’t thought about mixed fractions, and
nothing but mixed fractions, for the past fifty
years. Well, they thought themselves nearly
crazy about religion, and then they naturally

48



With the Dream-Maker

dropped to thinking about the devil, and it
took only the least outward sign to make
them go clean daft. One man got to think-
ing about witches hard, so I had to send him
an appropriate dream ; I hated to do it, but
I’m never allowed to neglect my duty. He
talked about it, thinking it was a vision from
heaven, and suddenly everybody that list-
ened to it began thinking the same way, and
the worst of it was, they took to dreaming
while they were awake, and that’s the very
worst sort of a dream. I would have given
my best dream if I could have talked to
those people for five minutes, and told them
what fools they were making of themselves,
but ’twas of no use to wish—I could only
go on making dreams for them, for I’m not
allowed to speak to a living being.”

“Why,” said Phil, strangely imagining
fora moment that he was back in his own
bed, “I’m a living being, and you’re talking
tome.”

49



xIV

SORT of mist seemed to fill the apart-

~ ment; Phil lost sight of his friend,
and thought himself at home, but an instant
later he was back with the old man, although
in another apartment, without knowing
exactly how he came there.

“This,” explained the manager, “is the
repair shop. There’s not much doing at
this hour, because such work is generally
done in the daytime, when there isn’t much
demand for our goods. There’s one or two
things, however, that may interest you.
Here on the work-bench is a dream that an
ambitious politician will need in an hour or
two, as soon as he goes to bed; it’s the one
that we always send, about election time, to
men who try to believe their chances good,
but can’t feel exactly sure of it. Here’s the
office he wants—see?—a room with desks,
books and a large safe; look through the
open doors, and you will see drawers full of

50



With the Dream-Maker

gold, and pigeon-holes filled with bank notes,
and between this and him are some stretch-
ers, a thousand times as elastic as India
rubber. All night long the politician reaches
for the office, but just as his fingers nearly
touch the sate, the stretchers expand, and
the safe moves out of reach. The last man
we used it on had a very poor chance, the
safe would go so far away that it took all
the elasticity out of the stretchers, and we've
got to put new ones in. We'll have to use
this about a hundred thousand times between
now and election day, but I don’t think it
worth while to have any duplicate—a little of
it goes a great way.”

“Did you ever send any dreams to George
Washington?” asked Phil.

“Didn't I, though?” replied the old man.
“Well, I only mean to say that I never laid
myself out on anybody as I did on him. He
was one of the level-headed kind who never
need a dream in time of peace, but during
the eight years in which he carried all of the
country’s troubles in his mind he kept me

51



With the Dream-Maker

busy. My old master, in Europe, who, as I
said before, was a monarchist, wanted me to
frighten George; but I knew the man and
he didn’t, so it ended in my making a little
Declaration of Independence all by myself.
It raised a great row, and I was reported to
the grand head of the dream bureau, in Asia,
and a man was sent over to succeed me, but
he was so ignorant as to what the people
wanted that his dreams would never stay
where he put them, and he went home, feel- _
ing very downcast. We all made up after-
ward, though, and Europe and Asia gave in
and said I was right, and they’d let me alone
in future to attend to the business in my
own way. We're on such good terms now,
that we often borrow dreams of each other
on a pinch; Europe occasionally sends to
me in a hurry for a dream fit for a French
republican, while I had to borrow pretty fre-
quently of Asia when the Chinese first began
to come over, and I hadn’t got the hang of
their ways. But George Washington |—
why, I supplied him and. the whole Conti-

52



With the Dream Maker

nental Congress, besides doing the proper
thing for the British commanders while they
were in America. I tried hard to get special
permission to try my hand for just one night
on George the Third and Lord North, but I
was bluntly told to mind my own business.”

53



XV

HE manager, after excusing himself a
moment to inspect a badly worn
dream that was going out, said:
“By the way, do you know that there
. was one revolutionary character that I never
could get an excuse to send a single dream
to?”
“Why, no,” replied Phil. ‘‘ Who was he?”
“Guess,” said the old man. ‘But no—
you're not old enough to take in the philos-
ophy of dreams. It was Ben Franklin. I
never saw such a man. No matter how
things went, he was always cheerful and hope-
ful, and he never ate or drank too much.
Once I thought I had him, but I didn’t know
himas wellthen asI didafterwards. It was the
day he finished that dreadful wood-cut of the
‘Union Snake,’ for the head of his news-
paper. Did you ever see it?—a snake in
thirteen pieces—thirteen states, you know—
and underneath it the motto ‘Union or

54



With the Dream-Maker

Death.’ Benjamin was a philosopher, but
he was human, and he was ever so proud of
that picture, wood-engraving not having
reached in those days the enon you see
it in now. But no; he looked at it a few
minutes, his eyes brightening and his cheek
coloring up; then he sat down quietly and
wrote a long article on the ‘ State of the con-
flict’ If all people were like Benjamin, I
could take the vacation that I’ve had to post-
pone for twelve centuries.”

‘Twelve centuries?” exclaimed Phil in
astonishment. ‘“Why—so it is. You must
be—say would you object to telling me how
old you really are?”

“Bless me—I don’t know,” said the old
man, with a laugh that was somewhat forced.

“You don’t know?” echoed Phil, inquir-
ingly. ‘“Can’t you find out by looking in
your family Bible?”

The old man laughed loud and long.
“Why,” said he, when at last he recovered his
breath, “there wasn’t a family Bible in exist-
ence until nearly a thousand years after I

55



With the Dream-Maker

came to America. I came over in the time
of Alfred the Great, I believe I told
you?”

‘So you did,” said Phil, “but—really—
don’t that make you older than Methus-
elah?”

“Well, I should say so,” said the old
man. ‘I'd been an apprentice for years
when Methuselah was a baby.”

“But the Sunday-school lessons say that
Methuselah was the oldest man,” said Phil,
rather timidly, for he feared that he might
wound the old man’s pride if he made light
of his age. Phil was immensely proud of his
being two years older than his sister Nellie ;
what, then, must be the sense of superiority
of a person who had apparently lived hund-
reds of years longer than Methuselah ?

“The Sunday-school lessons are quite
right,” said the old man. “But you can’t
exactly understand just now.”

56



XVI

“TITTLE Maggie O’Connor again!” ex-
claimed a messenger, hurrying sud-
denly into the repair shop.

“Well?” replied the old man, somewhat
impatiently,

“Well?” echoed the messenger.

The manager looked up inquiringly, rub-
bed his forehead, and then his eyes, and said:

‘Oh, yes ; let me see; I’ve been letting
my mind run backward a few thousand years
instead of attending to business. Little Mag-
gie O’Connor? oh, yes—that’s the little girl
down inthe slums who has the scarlet fever.”

“Yes, and given up by the doctor,”
replied the messenger.

‘You don’t tell me?” said the manager.
‘Take her our very best, then. By the way,
Flyer, stop a moment—just leave it with her
as long as she lasts.” The old man fell to
musing, but finally said:

‘“Now, there’s one of the consolations of

57



With the Dream-Maker

being a dream-maker. Poor little Maggie
has no father and a brute of a mother. To
die is the best thing she can do. Nobody is
paying her any attention, but she doesn’t
know it—she will know nothing but delight-
ful dreams until she wakes in a land where
everybody likes little children. What 2—
Oh, I’m afraid Flyer will be too late. She’s
going ; hats off, little fellow. Ah, I thought
so—here’s the dream back again—she’s
gone!” The old man wiped his eyes on his
shirt sleeve and finally said :

“I wish I might have done more for her.”

“Are you always so anxious to comfort
- sick children?” asked Phil. softly, after find-
ing his hand held tightly in that of the oldman.

“Always!” exclaimed the manager with
emphasis. ‘I daren’t go outside the strict
line of my duty, but I’m always allowed to
do my best for helpless children. You little
ones are the hope of the world, my boy ; try
to remember this whenever you’re tempted
to do the least thing out of the way. But
what’s this?”

58



XVII

EFORE this question Phil was conscious
B that something was buzzing industri-
ously about the old man, who was brushing
away ata great rate with his hands and hand-
kerchief. Phil immediately suggested mos-,
quitoes, and was about to suggest that he
would run home and get some extract of
pennyroyal with which his mother always
bathed the children’s faces during the mos-
quito season, when the old man exclaimed
testily :

‘There, there ; I know you’re here, you
needn’t make such a terrible fuss. Let's see
who you are and what the trouble is.”

So saying the old man snapped his fin-
gers, and the animated speck that Phil had
taken for a mosquito swelled gradually to the
size and shape of an old woman, greatly bent,
with a hooked nose, toothless mouth, and a
sharp-pointed cane with which she prodded
the ground rapidly.

59



With the Dream-Maker

“Oh, it’s you, is it?” asked the manager.

“Yes,” replied the old hag, “and a dis-
graceful time I’ve had of it. I'd no more
than got to that overfed boy that I was sent
to than he turned over on his side and got
some relief from his pain, so a mere upstart
of a thing with five front teeth—five, upon
my honor as a truthful dream—came and
replaced me. I want to know if you call that
fairness. If age and experience aren’t to be
respected in this business, I should like to
know it, once for all, and take myself away
from where I’m not wanted. Haven’t you
often told me that I could outstare and out-
- prod any grandmother dream in the estab-
lishment ?”’

“Certainly I have,” said the old man,
“but ’—

“Didn’t I leave a good place in the
European bureau, where I attended to all the
royal princes and princesses, because you
solemnly declared that I should have more
business here, and among people who really
had more money than royal families ?”

60 :



With the Dream-Maker

“Yes,” said the old man, “but I’m not
to blame for the change that’s come over
affairs. How could I know that Americans
were bound to speculate and lose all their
money? I’mas badly disappointed as you
are at having to look after a lot of bankrupts,
besides I’m in far worse trouble than you, for
every day I have to make new dreams for
these people—dreams suchas folks that save
their money never need. Now, go and take
a rest, do; and remember that I’m your best
friend. There are better times in store for
you. When experience has taught Ameri-
cans to save the money that’s coming to
them so fast there'll soon be so many rich
men’s children that you can’t begin to attend
to them all—you’ll beg to go back to royalty
for a rest.”

61



XVIII

-Â¥HE old woman seemed somewhat paci-

fied, for she gradually contracted to
the usual size of dreams, and buzzed away
to her proper niche, while the old man
remarked in confidence to Phil:

“Now, there’s a sample of one of my
troubles. She wants to monopolize a certain
portion of the business, but will work only
in the best circles. I’ve thousands of dreams
that are in the same discontented, unreason-
able condition. Because they do well in
their proper position, they think themselves
equal to anything and every thing else.
They all insist upon promotion, and I’m
utterly unable to explain: to them, without
hurting their feelings, that they areas high as
they deserve to be. Why, a year or two ago
three of the dreams came to me and seri-
ously proposed to work in combination and
look after a certain presidental candidate
until election day! One of them proposed

62



se

With the Dream-Maker

to warn him, another to encourage and a
third to tease. And they, all told, were
only three dreams! Why, that candidate
needed at least two thousand dreams before
the returns came in ; of which fully one-half
had to be made to order, and his measure
carefully taken for each one. Let’s change
the subject it makes me cross to think
about it.”

‘Perhaps you might forget it, if you’d
tell me about the dreams you gave Colum-
bus,” suggested Phil.

“Like enough,” said the old gentleman.
‘‘ Let's us go back to the store-room and get
out the Columbus collection ; it. hasn’t been
asked for in so long, that I’ll have to refresh
my memory about it. Once or twice I’ve
been tempted to throw those Columbus
dreams in the waste heap, so as to make
room for something else, as we are rather
crowded in point of room, but each time
there’s been one or more parties trying to find
the North Pole, and I’ve kept the lot in
hand, in case the great discovery should be

63





With the Dream-Maker

made—all discoverers need about the same
dreams, as a rule.”

The‘couple started from the repair shop
toward the store-room to view the Columbus
collection, when suddenly the manager turned
abruptly and said,

“Perhaps you'd like to see the waste-
heap? It’s not very pretty, but if you've
a boy’s natural love for odds and ends that
are of no use to any one else, you may find
something there to interest you. Here it

”

is.

64



XIX

ale HE heap appeared so like a pile of ordi-

nary gravel that Phil was quite disap-
pointed, but, wishing to say something polite,
he remarked,

“You'll never have to put an extension
on your waste-room ; it would hold a hundred
times as much.”

“What? Never?” echoed the old man.

“T should think not.”

The manager clapped his hands and
instantly the waste heap began to swell and
tumble apart, while each little particle swelled
to its original working size and shape. They
were a sorry looking lot, however, and
reminded Phil forcibly of the contents of a
junk dealer’s wagon. Suddenly the old gen-
tleman, who had been poking the rubbish
about with his foot, picked up a queer com-
bination of tea-kettle, lever and dough-balls,
saying,

“JT wonder, now, if you can imagine
what this is? It was never used but once,
65



With the Dream-Maker

and as there is no likelihood of its ever
being called for again, it was sent here from
Europe about a century ago, just to relieve
the store-room on the other side.”

“‘T give it up,” said Phil.

“T thought you would,” replied the old
man. ‘Well, that combination was little
Watt’s first dream about the steam-engine
which he afterward invented.”

“Oh, I remember about him,” exclaimed
Phil. “TI tried to learn something about
steam myself, by hammering a medicine-
bottle cork into the spout of our tea-kettle,
but it came out when I wasn’t there, and
broke the kitchen window, and frightened
the cook so that she gave warning.”

“Did it, though?” asked the old man,
laughing so hard that the tears finally
streamed down his wrinkled face. ‘I ought
to have sent you a jolly dream for that—I
hope I did; do you happen to remember
anything Shou ite

No, Phil could not recall the exact date,
‘so the old gentleman proceeded :

66





He began to wonder how this discovery could be made useful—Page 67



With the Dream-Maker

“This little Watts boy, you know, was
really a very good sort of a youngster, who
tried hard to learn all about things, but he
was a boy for all that, and as he did not cut
up much during the day, we rewarded him
at night by giving him dreams all full of
boyish pranks. After he had noticed that
the force of the steam would raise the lid of
the tea-kettle he began to wonder how this
discovery could be made useful. He thought
it over so long that he began to grow mor-
bid—do you know what that word means ?
No? Well, it means head-sick.”

‘Like you feel with a hard arithmetic
sum that you can’t get the right answer for?”
asked Phil.

“You've got it,’ said the old man.
“Well, he grew morbid, so we got up this
dream forhim. You see there’s a bar cross-
ing the lidof the kettle; one end is fastened
down, but the other and longer end bobs up
quite briskly when the kettle-lid is forced up.
On this long end we placed a little ball of
dough, which, when’ the lid rose, would be

67



With the Dream-Maker

thrown by the bar to quite a little distance,
and when the ball came down it would hit a
cat, who would spring about in a most aston-
ished manner, but always came back in time
to be hit by the next ball. This dream
pleased the little fellow so much that he
laughed heartily and long in his sleep, and
the next day found himself so clear headed
as to develop the idea of a cylinder and pis-
ton from the lid and bar.”

“You—you couldn’t make the dream
work now, could you?” asked Phil.

“J could,” said the old man, “if I had a
cat, but the cat belonging to this was
detached, being really as good as new, and
used on a rat that not only ruined cheese,
but ate more than was good. for him, so he
had to have a frightening dream.”

68



XX

iy O you really send dreams to animals ?”
asked Phil, in open-mouthed wonder.

‘‘Certainly,” said the manager. “We
send them to everything that has life. Car
horses and beggar’s dogs get the nicer ones,
and richly they deserve them, poor things.
Oh—you mustn’t let me forget to show you
the dream that we send to conceited but
sleepy young roosters that think the day-
light couldn’t come unless they first got up
and crowed. This is the dream ‘they awake
with : just as they raise their heads to crow
they see a dozen suns already risen and each
sun looking at them, no two in the same
way, but all sad, or angry, or provoked, or
reproachful, or something unpleasant.”

“ How funny !” exclaimed Phil.

“Oh, we've lots of funny dreams here,”
said the manager. “ Let’s stroll back to the
entrance, and see what's going out.”

Back the couple went, through the repair

69



With che Dream-Maker

shop and into the store room. Here Phil
became conscious of an occasional buzzing
or whizzing in the air, and asked what it was.

“That?” asked the manager. ‘Oh,
that’s made by dreams on their way back to
their places. The early dreams are return-
ing now, or beginning to; they’re the ones
that people have when they first drop
asleep.”

“You don’t mean to say that they can
find their way back alone from any part of
the United States ?”’ exclaimed Phil.

“Yes I do,” said the manager, “but
please don’t say United States; it makes
the business seem too small; say America.
Remember that I have to look out for Esqui-
maux, Patagonians and everybody who lives
between the poles, besides the inhabitants of
the West Indies and Bermudas.”

“How do they find their way back?”

‘“‘Kasily enough,” said the manager, “ for
if they turn either to the right or left, they
find they can’t get along at all. Why, I had
one wild young dream here once that used

70



With the Dream-Maker

to try to lounge about after its work was
done, so as to come home with another
dream to which it had taken a great liking,
but each time it returned so. tired out that it
gave up its irregular habits and became as
regular as the oldest dream in the collec-
tion.”

“Well, I never!” exclaimed Phil.

‘No? Well, I suppose not.”

71





XXI

HEN the manager turned to a number
of men, almost as old looking as him-
self, and asked:

“What's going out, boys?”

“Mostly children’s sizes, and those for
people who've fallen asleep while lying on their
backs,” answered one of the so-called boys.
“We're in a puzzle, now, though—I'm very
glad you've come.”

“Why, what’s up?”

“There’s a little boy down in Central
America who’s been robbing a banana tree
in the garden next door to his own, and he’s
eaten a whole bunch.”

“Qh, don’t I wish I were he!” exclaimed
Phil; he really couldn’t help it.

“T say the half-dozen grandmother dreams
is the proper thing for him,” said another
man, without paying the slightest regard to
the interruption.

“Nonsense!” replied the manager, “if

72



With the Dream. Maker

he ate them down there, they were ripe—
not the heavy things that are sold up this
way. They won't trouble his digestion in
the least.”

“Didn’t I tell you so?” exclaimed the
first speaker, triumphantly. ‘I insisted that
what he needs is a conscience tickler—say
about No. 4 size, he being a small boy, and
brought up with only Central American ideas
of honesty.”

“You're right; hurry it along, though,”
said the manager. “Anything else?”

“Yes,” said one of the men, “we're
short of room for dreams for the inventors
that have multiplied so rapidly within a year
or two, and as the inventors’ department
is just beside that of the discoverers, and
there don’t seem to be any likelihood of that
latter ever being needed again, why can’t we
clear out the stuff that was used on the
Northmen, Cabot, Columbus, and—”

“At last !’’ exclaimed Phil. He meant to
say it to himself, but he was so filled with the
desire of seeing Columbus dreaming that he

73



With the Dream-Maker

spoke aloud. The store-room man seemed
rather surprised and annoyed by the inter-
ruption, but he finally continued :

‘— And throw them all on the waste-
heap.”

“All but the Columbus lot!” exclaimed
Phil aloud ; this time he fully intended to be
heard.

74



XXII

i: ULLO !” exclaimed one of the store-
room men, looking at Phil in aston-

ishment. ‘Have we a new manager?”

Phil at once felt terribly abashed, and
sneaked behind the legs of the manager, but
the old man laughed heartily and replied :

“That's all right. I’ve been promising
all night to show the Columbus collection to
my young friend, and he doesn’t want it
destroyed before he sees it. I like your per-
sistence, youngster. It'll makea man of you,
if you take good care of it and train it. Just
hand me out that Columbus collection, and
Pll explain it right away, before—”

“Georgie Blake has been hooking
apples,” interrupted a messenger who had
just come in.

“First offence?’ asked the old man.

eS

“Country boy, or city?”

“ H’m—about half and half, I should say.”

75



With the Dream-Maker
“Then send him the dog dream, the

policeman dream, the angry farmer dream
and the jail dream ; work them all together on
him.”

“Hooray!” exclaimed the messenger,
with an ugly chuckle, which boded no good
to Georgie Blake.

“JT suspect, now, that you think we're
rather hard on a first offence?” said the old
man.

«J | well, I really do,” said Phil,
honestly.

“T don’t wonder,” replied the manager ;
‘it naturally seems so at first sight, but a
boy who has stolen apples for the first time
has a very touchy conscience, and if we work
industriously upon that, we may Keep him
from ever doing such a thing again. If we
were to let him off easy, he would soon fall
to thinking that apple-stealing was fun, and
when boys get to doing wrong things for fun,
they’re on the way to jail, sure,”

76



XXIII

Y this time the returning dreams were
B so increasing in numbers that a steady
whizzing sound pervaded the apartment.
Suddenly a deep shadow fell upon the couple,
and Phil, after looking upward, shrieked and
clutched frantically at the manager’s arm.
The manager also looked up; then he
shouted ;

«What is the matter? Why, Number
107, what do you mean by returning in this
condition ?”’

“Number 62 ran into me and broke my
contractor,” replied 107, who was an immense
horse with wings on his shoulders and hoofs
and a most knowing human wink in one eye, .
which wink so reassured Phil that he soon
found himself contemplating the animal with
calm but boyish curiosity.

“Where had you been?” enquired the
manager.

“At the race-course, sir, moving about
promiscuously among the rich greenhorns.”

77



With the Dream-Maker

“Where had 62 been?”

The flying horse hung his head a bit, and
as he had no finger to put into his mouth,
after the manner of boys who find detection
at hand, he sucked the wing of one of his
hoofs instead, while he looked furtively and
shame-facedly from under the upper lid of
one eye.

“You're jealous of each other—you’ve
been fighting!” exclaimed the old man.

‘No, we haven’t, sir—we really haven't ;
that is, I haven’t. J only looked at him, and
he ran bang into me. Just feel the bump,
please, that he gave me on the back.”

“What did you do to him? Nothing, I
presume?”

“T only just began the winged
horse, when the manager stopped him with:

“Never mind; here comes Number 62
himself. Now, I guess, I'll get at the truth
of this matter.”

Number 107 tried violently to contract
himself, but without avail, and his expression
was so dreadful that Phil began again to be

78

”





With the Dream-Maker

frightened, but his attention was diverted by
the appearance of Number 62. This also
was a horse, but instead of having wings he
was lame in one leg and badly foundered,
although he bore on his side in large letters
the word “ FAVORITE.”

“What's all this about, Number 62?”
asked the manager sternly.

“Tt’s only this,” replied 62, tossing his

head in the most spirited manner imaginable ;
‘“‘T won’t be twitted on myappearance by any
beast whatever—even one with five pairs of
wings. I attend to my own business; I’ve
fooled as many betting fools as he has, yet as
soon as he came alongside of me on the way
back he pointed one ear at my game leg, and
began to say, ‘ee! ee!’ Do you suppose
I’d endure that? No, sir! So I gave him
one kick which I think took down his
conceit somewhat. I kicked so hard that I
broke my own contractor, too.”

“Now, aren’t you ashamed of your-
selves?’ asked the old man, in a most
reproachful tone. ‘ Haven’t I often told you

79



With the Dream-Maker

that private feelings have no right to inter-
fere with the public welfare? The Coney
Island races begin to-day, and both of you
should be busily engaged at this very instant.
Instead of that, you’re only fit for the waste-
heap, with Odin’s eight-legged horse Sleip-
ner, who wouldn’t ask anything better than to
kick you both.”

“ Please, sir,” said Number 107, begin-
ning to cry, “forgive me this once, I'll never
do it again.”

“Neither will I, sir—indeed I won't,”
said Number 62, who had already wept so
profusely that Phil cautiously stepped aside
to avoid getting his shoes wet.

“Then see to it that you don’t. Now, go
to the repair-shop and have yourselves
mended. Stop, come back; I want you to
kiss and be friends.

The tears of both horses at once ceased
to flow, and their eyes began to glare most
impenitently, but there was no help for them,
so they embraced and kissed each other, after
which they slunk away, making dreadful faces.

80



XXIV

© HEY think I didn’t see that,” said the

old man, who had pretended not to
be looking. ‘Well, they won’t quarrel
again—not at present, I’m sure. All the
horses in my collection are in mortal dread
of Sleipner, whom Odin used to ride, and
whom I occasionally trotted out when the
Northmen were prowling about these
coasts.”

‘‘Won’t you please tell me something
about that eight-legged horse P” asked Phil.
‘How were the extra legs put on?”

“ He had no extra legs !” replied the old
man bluntly. ‘The story came of the ways
of his master, who was one of the business-
like chaps who seem often to be in several
places at the same time, so the people first
thought he was helped by the devil, and then
that his horse had eight legs; finally they
made themselves believe that Odin himself
was a god. I’ve seen all of Odin’s horses,

6
“81



With the Dream-Maker

and a miserable lot they were ; half the time
he had to dismount and walk. There wasn’t
much attention paid to horse-breeding in his
time, you see, so the consequence was that
his entire stable, could it be put up at auction
to-day, wouldn’t bring a hundred dollars.
Eight legs, indeed! I suppose, now, that if
you were to go to some schools that I could
name, and learn all the lessons well, just
because you fixed your mind upon them, the
other boys would believe you had two heads !
Folks are always ready to find some unnat-
ural cause for the success of industrious and
sensible people ; usually they say ‘Luck.’ It
never occurs to them to say ‘ Work,’ which
was the secret of success in Odin’s day, just
as it is now,”

82



XXV

De your dreams often quarrel, as the
two horses did a moment ago?”
Phil inquired.

‘Not often, though in a large collection
there will naturally be some jealousies. The
worst difficulty I can remember was between
four dreams that I sent out to operate, in
quick succession, upon a dying millionaire.
There’s one human streak about dreams,
probably because they see so much of human
beings—they’re very fond of being in the
society of rich people. Well, these four
dreams reached the sick-room together, with
distinct orders as to what to do and when to
do it; but what must each idiot do but insist
upon being first! The dream that was to
have begun the week was one of the new
Jerusalem ; ’twas really old Jerusalem after
a Sunday-school wall picture, but the sick
man didn’t know the difference ; this was to
operate while the minister was with him.

83



With the Dream-Maker

Then was to come a couple of lawyers, play-
ing ducks and drakes with his money in
court, while his relations were trying to
break the will; then there was a picture of
the man as he might have been if he had not
lost his soul through money-making, and,
lastly, there was an unpopular being with
hoofs, horns, forked tail and pitchfork.”

“Ugh!” shivered Phil.

“Quite so. But oh! the row those
dreams got into! They all crowded in at
once, Old Speartail insisting that he had a
special right to the man anyway. The law-
yers handled Jerusalem roughly, making dis-
solving views of the Temple, pocketing the
gold and silver candlesticks, and playing
smash generally, while the picture of the
man as he might have been got into a fight
with Old Speartail,and was promptly knocked
down and trampled upon. There’s no know-
ing what might have happened, had not the
doctor noticed a change for the better in the
invalid. Then the dreams started for home,
the lawyers arm in arm with Old Speartail,

84





With the Dream-Maker

who had on one prong of his pitchfork the
picture of the man as he might have been,
and the three were roaring “We Won't Go
Home Till Morning,” while Jerusalem came
straggling back in about fifty pieces—I had
to double the repair-shop gang and work all
night to put that town together again. The
hardest work of all was to get back the gold
and silver things which the lawyers had stolen
from the Temple.”’

“What became of the millionaire?”

“Oh, the fuss did him good; he saw it
all, you know. He got well, joined the
church, died peaceably a year later and left
all his money to benevolent associations. I
got out the lawyers and Speartail and told
them about it, and for three months after-
ward those fellows were too sick to work—
Thad to duplicate them all.”

Phil’s head by this time was pretty well
stuffed with wonders, so he did not spend
much time marveling that the old man could
replace three sick persons, particularly when
one was a being whom he had always been

85



With the Dream-Maker

taught to consider the only one of his kind.
Besides, he had very little time for connected
thought ; dreams were coming and going,
messengers were continually asking ques-
tions of the manager, and calls from the
store-room were frequent. The old man,
too, in spite of the constant demands on his
time, found occasion to point out one unusual
thing after another to Phil, so that all the boy
could do was to keep his ears and eyes
open.

86



XXVI

UDDENLY, however, while Phil was bal-

ancing himself upon a broken moun-
_ tain peak considerately brought out for him
to sit upon and rest himself, there approached
him a group which he did not think could
possibly be a dream. It numbered forty or
fifty Asiatics, some upon elephants and some
upon camels; all were faultlessly dressed,
and had turbaned heads and jeweled swords.
Arrived at the entrance, the party halted
and dismounted at a signal from the leader ;
then all salaamed profoundly, and the leader
exclaimed: |

« Allah is great!”

Phil did not exactly understand this, so
he said :

“If you'll have the kindness to wait a
minute, J’ll call the proprietor.” Then he
ran into the store-room, found the manager
and exclaimed :

“If you please, sir, a circus has come!”

87



With the Dream-Maker

“Indeed!” said‘ the old man, moving
briskly towards the entrance. ‘Oh, that’s
no circus ; it’s a deputation from the Asiatic
establishment. I wonder what the great
original dream-maker wants to borrow?”

Phil was disappointed, for he greatly
enjoyed circuses, and his father seldom had
time to take him to one. He made the most
of his opportunities, however, by squeezing
well to one side, where he could get an
unobstructed view of the animals. Mean-
while the leader recognized the manager,
signaled his party to salaam again, and then
he repeated :

‘Allah is great!”

“Correct !” responded the manager.
‘Anything broke on the other side?”

The chief of the embassy replied by
drawing from his bosom a scroll, from which
he read as follows :

“The Great Original Dream-maker of the
Planet, the Pervador of the Night Season,
the Tormentor of the Wicked and the De-
lighter of, the good, the Fabricator of Mighty

88



With the Dream-Maker

Puzzles and Designer of Unparalleled Pict-
ures, the Subtlest of Mechanicians ”»—

‘‘Asia draws it pretty strong,” muttered
the old man to Phil; “but I’ll leave it to any
unprejudiced expert whether I’m not as smart
at the work-bench as he.”

The leader of the embassy, not noticing
this breach of diplomatic etiquette, had con-
tinued :

“The Worker by Starlight, who yet
Sleepeth not in the Daytime, the Arouser of
Consciences and the General Regulator of
Sleepers, sends greeting. unto his illustrious
younger brother, the Sole Arbiter of Dream-
fate in the New World, the Marvelous ”»—

“Cut the titles, so far as Iam concerned,”
interrupted the old man. “Titles don’t count
for anything in this country, except to silly
girls and hotel-keepers. Cut the titles and
come right down to business. No offence
meant, you know, but time is money over
here ; our dreamers Cy eee those among
your folks a hundred to one.’

‘As your Exalted Mightiness ee

89



With the Dream-Maker

answered the leader, handing the scroll to an
attendant. ‘Know then, that the Afghans
are about to slaughter the English Commis-
sioner, and my Illustrious Master would be
glad to experiment upon the Governor-Gen-
eral of India with the dream which you send
a Secretary of the Interior when the Indians
kill a peace commissioner.”

“He's quite welcome to it, and much
good may it do him. I’m sorry to say that
it hasn’t been particularly successful here,
but perhaps there isn’t a strong Afghan ring
around the Governor-General, to neutralize
a dream-maker’s best efforts. Ho !—inside
there !—dust off 86 and bring it out; fix it
up in shape for a foreign trip in distinguished
company. Make yourselves at home, won’t
you, gentlemen, for a moment or two?”

The Asiatics leisurely reclined upon the
floor in various postures; they had barely
composed themselves, when Phil shouted,
“Oh, there’s soldiers coming—there’s soldiers
coming |”

ge



XXVIT

HE old man shaded his eyes with one
hand, and finally said:

“T don’t wonder you thought so, little
chap, seeing how gorgeously they’re dressed,
but that is a party from the European estab-
lishment. They, too, want to borrow some-
thing, I suppose. I wonder what it can be?”

The party approached, bowed low to the
manager, recognized the Asiatic deputation,
who courteously arose and salaamed; then
a consequential-looking personage stepped
forward and said:

“T am commissioned by my most gra-
cious Sovereign to request of you, if it be
not inconsistent with your own require-
ments, the loan of the dream which you use
on the Secretary of the Interior when your
Indians slaughter peace commissioners.
The Afghans—’

The old man slapped his leg and ex-
claimed :

gi



With the Dream-Maker

«Well, I'll be—but I beg your pardon ;
you had not concluded.”

“The Afghans,” resumed the head of
the deputation, ‘‘are about to slaughter the
English Commissioner, and my Illustrious
Master would like to try the dream on the
British Cabinet.”

“Well, if here isn’t a go!” exclaimed
the old man. ‘Europe and Asia want to
borrow the same dream—and on the same
night, too! Really, gentlemen, I’m extremely
sorry to disappoint you, but that dream is
just being packed to go to Asia. I wish I
_ had a duplicate, but as we never have but
one Secretary of the Interior at a time, I’ve
not thought it worth while.”

The Europeans looked nettled, and the
Asiatics assumed an air of complacent supe-
riority that must have been ‘very irritating.
As both parties were armed with swords,
Phil feared that bloodshed might follow, but
suddenly the old man exclaimed:

“T have it! There’s about six hours
difference in time between India and Eng-

92









It’s as big as—why, there isn’t anything anywhere |—Page 93



With the Dream-Maker

land. Why can’t you gentlemen from Europe
wait until Asia is done with it, and still be in
time? ?”

This suggestion restored harmony, and
the two parties proceeded to fraternize, but
only for a moment, for the much-demanded
dream being brought out, the Asiatics pro-
ceeded at once to mount.

“You'll bring it back as soon as you’re
done with it, boys, won’t you?” said the old
man appealingly to the European delegation.
“T like to be obliging, but there’s no know-
ing how soon I may have to use the same
dream here; there are several railroad sur-
veying parties in the Indian reservations
now, and their teamsters are selling whiskey
to the savages. All ready? Well, day-day
—regards to your governors.”

“Did you ever in all your born days, see
an elephant as big as that biggest one?”
asked Phil. “It’s as big as—why, there isn’t
anything anywhere! Have all those people
and animals dropped into the ground?”

‘“‘Oh, no,” said the manager, “they’re in

93



With the Dream-Maker

Calcutta now, and much joy I wish His
Excellency of his dream ; it has made many
a Secretary of the Interior declare to his
wife that if he lived until morning he would
write his resignation the first thing. None
of them ever did it, though—not for that rea-
son. It’s dreadfully hard to make a dream
that will stay in a cabinet officer’s head after
he reaches his office. But hasn’t this been a
glorious night for America?—both Europe
and Asia sending over to borrow, and the
same dream, too?”

94



Full Text







































The Baldwin Library

University
RinD ce
Florida




5


With the Dream-Maker


The four immediately stood in a row and began to sing
softly—Page 19 ;
With
The Dream-Maker

By

John Habberton

Author of ‘‘Helen's Babies,’’ ‘‘All He Knew,’’

“« Worst Boy in Town,’’ etc.

Illustrated by
J. C. CLAGHORN

PHILADELPHIA
GEORGE W. JACOBS & CO.
1898
Copyright by
GEORGE W. JACOBS & CO,
1898






List of Illustrations

PAGE
THE FOUR IMMEDIATELY STOOD IN A ROW AND
BEGAN TO SING SOFTLY Frontispiece
I WONDER WHETHER ’TWAS ONLY A DREAM . 7
HERE'S THE PRINCIPAL STORE-ROOM. : : 38
HE BEGAN TO WONDER HOW THIS DISCOVERY .
COULD BE MADE USEFUL. : 7 : 67

It’s aS BIG AS—-WHY, THERE ISN’T ANYTHING
>
ANYWHERE ! . . . . . 93


1 wonder whether ‘twas only a dream 2—Page 7
“T WONDER,” drawled little Phil Fuzzy-

top, as he awoke one morning, very
early, and groped among the bedclothes for
the large bag of marbles which he had owned
in dreamland a moment before, “I wonder
whether ’twas only a dream? No—‘there it
is’—but it isn’t; that’s one leg of my night-
suit, with my knee pushing round lumps into
it. I declare, I think it’s too mean for any-
thing. Oh, there—pshaw!—that’s no mar-
ple; ’tis one of my toes. I wonder where
our dreams come from? I don’t think the
person who sends them can be very nice, for
the lovelier the dreams are, the forlorner—I
feel when—I wake—and—find—.”

Little Phil could not have said his last few
words very rapidly, even had he been offered
as many marbles as he had missed a few
moments before, for he was again falling fast
asleep. Suddenly, however, he thought him-
self very wide awake once more, and dressed

7
With the Dream-Maker

in his day clothing, and in a place he had

never seen before, except in his school-book

about geography, when he opened the book

upside down. It was a mountainous country,

but the mountains were wrong side up, and.
rested upon their peaks, so their new tops,

or old bottoms, hid the sky entirely, and

between them they formed arches like some

Phil had seen in church, only they were a
hundred times higher.

“Dear me,” exclaimed Phil to himself,
‘“T’m somewhere that I shouldn’t be, I’m
sure, for mamma says I must never go off of
the sidewalk, and there’s no sidewalk here at
all. I ought to hurry home, and say that I
didn’t mean to come here. I wonder which ©
way home is? I wish I could see a police-
man, but I can’t see a person of any kind,
and there aren’t any corners, with street
names on them, Oh, there’s a mah. [I'll
ask him whether he knows my papa, and can
show me the way home.”

The person whom Phil saw was an old
man with a shrewd though kind face. He had

8
With the Dream-Maker

just come from behind a mountain-peak and
was sauntering forward, looking to the right
and left, as if expecting some one, though
not in haste. He began taking off his coat,
as if to go to work; when he espied Phil, he
exclaimed :

“Come, come! This will never do. I
don’t allow my messengers to wear clothing
as good as yours. You'll waste time in try-
ing to get your clothes.dirty, and just when
some one wants his dream, too, if it is to be
of any use to him.”

Phil did not know that he was a messen-
ger in the employ of the old man, but he was
so surprised at what he had already seen,
that he could not wonder much at any thing,
so he replied :

“Tm not one of your messengers, sir,
but’ if you send out dreams, I should like
to select some now for myself. There was
some mistake about the last one I had. Then
I'll be obliged if you can show me the way
home, for mamma may be worried about me.
. It seems almost a whole day since I saw her.”

9.
IT

Wee Phil spoke the old man ap-
proached him, looked curiously at
him, and said:

“Ah, I see! ’Tisn’t strange, though, that
I made a mistake, for you're the first real boy
I’ve seen in a thousand years or more. Even
then I saw but one, and I shouldn’t have seen
him if it hadn’t have been for a dream that
I made for him. It had to be used with great
care, or it wouldn’t work right, so to prevent
possible mistakes I delivered it in person.”
i “Do you really make dreams for peo-

ple?” gasped Phil.

“Indeed I do, and I’m a very busy
man. Would you believe it?—I’ve not had
a vacation since the Pilgrim Fathers’ first
year in this country.”

“Gracious!” exclaimed Phil; “how
did you get one then?”

“Oh, you see, the Pilgrims had very
little to eat that winter, so their digestions

IO
With the Dream-Maker

never got out of order, and they did so
much real thinking by daylight that they
had no mind to waste on dreams at night.”

“But didn’t you give the poor Indians
any dreams?”

“Indeed, yes; but that was easy. I
kept a great lot that were exactly alike, and
I used to send them out every night by the
bag full, My messengers had only to drop
a handful of dreams about eating and killing
whenever they saw an Indian hut. In those
days there was no sending out to learn what
was needed in my line, but now there must
be about as many dreams as people, and a
lot of my stock must be made to suit special
cases. In the old times I could have
got along nicely, except for loneliness—I
couldn’t make company of my messengers,
you see—'twould have put an end to
discipline. Finally, though, I got an assist-
ant, and I remember that day as_ well
as if it were yesterday. "Twas the very
day that Christopher Columbus sighted Cat
Island.”

II
With the Dream-Maker

«Dear me!” exclaimed Phil; ‘did
you know Columbus ?”

“Know Columbus?” echoed the old
man. Then he sighed as he answered, “I
should say I did know Columbus—the first
white man I ever made dreams for in this
country, except those Northmen who used
to coast between Greenland and Rhode
Island. They didn’t bother me much, though ;
I tried a lot of the Indian dreams on them,
and scarcelyanyone complained. But Colum-
bus—why, the first night I looked after him
I had to make thirty-seven new dreams, with
my hand dreadfully out of practice, too ; for
you see, until I came over here | had been
merely an apprentice. North America and
the neighboring islands are my territory.”

12
Ii]

a Tl OW did you come to be selected for
the position?” asked Phil.

“By way of punishment and reforma-
tion,” was the reply. “I was learning the
business, in the European establishment,
and like any other new hand at a business,
I thought I knew more than my elders.
One night, just as I had finished a new
dream after a design of my own, I was sent
out to carry a dream to King Alfred of
England—perhaps you’ve heard of him ?”

“The king that hooked barley meal to
make pudding of?”

' “The very same,” replied the old man,
patting Phil approvingly on the head, “and
I’m glad to know that you remember your
history lessons so well. I got into trouble
through that very meal. You see, the King
hadn’t eaten any pudding in a long time, so
when he stole the meal and knew what was
to be done with it, his mouth began to water,

13

d
With the Dream-Maker

and he ate nothing for dinner, but saved his
appetite for the pudding. He ate too much
of it, for the pudding was very rich on account
of the suet the queen put into it—‘Great
lumps of fat, as big as my two thumbs’—
and it disagreed with him. The matter was
reported to our manager as soon as the King
began to toss uneasily in bed, but as the
manager was a monarchist, as every one was
in those days, he decided to give the King a
gently troublous dream-—something that
wouldn’t bother him much more than the
beginning of a toothache. As I said, the
dream was given me to carry—we didn’t
serve kings by common messengers—no,
indeed! I dropped the dream into my pocket
and away I went, but my own new dream
which was in another pocket, kept reminding
me of its existence, and suddenly I thought
that of all persons in the world, a king would
be just the man to try that dream upon.”

‘“Why did you think so?”

‘‘ Because, as J made it myself, I thought
it was too good to waste upon common folks.

14






With the Dream-Maker

Now, that.I look back at it, there wasn’t much
to that dream, yet when it got to work the
King threshed about in his bed at a great
rate, and told a lot of state secrets in his
sleep. First he thought he stretched hun-
dreds of feet ; then he thought he was a mere
mite. I tell you ’twas fine.”

“But how did the manager find out that
you had changed the dreams ?.”

“Ah!” sighed the old man, ‘there’s the
sad part of the tale. Never having tried
sucha thing before, how was I to know what
the other dream would do? I learned that
night, to my sorrow, that a dream can never
return to the shop where’ it belongs until it
has done the work for which it was sent out.
The next day after my experiment, and at
noon exactly, the manager went through the
establishment to see that everything was
ready for night, and the place where the
King’s dream should have been was empty ; I
was sent for, and when I confessed there was
a terrible time.”

“What happened, please?”

15
With the Dream-Maker

«Oh, all the messengers were sent out to
look for the missing dream, It was found at
last, but dreadfully tired, for it had been run-
ning all over the world looking for some
king who had been eating pudding made of
barley meal which he had stolen, but not one
couldit find. Every kingit visited had stolen
something else, but dreams are too honest
to take advantage of quibbles, so that poor .
dream has roamed about from that day to
this. It’s in this country now, hoping that
some day America will have a king, and
arguing that if it does, he will be mean
enough to steal and eat any thing. Once it
_had hopes ; it was‘at the Sandwich Islands
when the King was dreadfully hungry, and
was about to use some barley meal that
Captain Cook’s sailors had brought ashore
but puddings must be boiled a long time,
and as His Majesty was in great haste he
dined on the Captain instead.”
IV

=“) you say you were sent over here
as manager while you were a mere
apprentice?” Phil asked.

“Yes, and frightfully lonesome I found
myself when I arrived. There were only
about twenty people in the country at the
time, and they did not keep me busy; they
were a miserable lot of Pacific island fisher-
men whose boat had been blown to our coast
by a storm, and ’twas hundreds of years
before there were enough of their descend-
ants, the Indians, and far enough apart, to
give me an excuse to ask for assistance.
Even then, as I said before, all the natives
used the same kind of dream, until Columbus
came.”

“Won't you tell me about some of the
dreams you gave Columbus? You said,
you know, that you gave him a great lot.”

“Oh, to be sure. Well, you know he’d
been sailing for weeks, and finally ———”

2



17
With the Dream-Maker

Just here a very small boy, who looked to
be a thousand years old, and in a suit of
clothes as old as himself, and unlike any
Phil had ever seen, rushed in from some-
where and exclaimed:

“Please, sir, little Ned Jenks, of Shag-
ticoke, has kicked all the cover from his bed,
and is beginning to shiver.”

“Take him Number Forty-nine,” said
the manager promptly. Then he turned to
Phil and remarked, “By the way, Forty-
nine is a very useful dream; perhaps you
would like to see it in operation.”

“ Oh, I would, ever so much,”’ exclaimed
Phil, “if it wouldn’t trouble you too much.”

“No trouble whatever,” the old man
replied; then he stopped the messenger,
saying,

“Just exhibit that dream to my young
friend here.”

The messenger put his hand into his
pocket and took out what seemed to be
a handful of very small balls, but each of
them stretched at once to the shape and

18
With the Dream-Maker

size of aman. They were very funny men.
Each was extremely thin, and his clothing
was thinner; all had long, thin white hair
and beards, their faces were pale and wrink-
led, their fingers long and thin, their eyes a
watery blue and very sleepy-looking, and
even the force of Phil’s breath set them to
swaying and shivering.

‘“Isn’t that a beautiful dream,’’ asked the
old man, rubbing his hands with great satis-
faction, ‘to send toa boy who’s been kicking
off his bedclothes? But bless me !—I’ve for-
gotten to show you the best part of it. Now,,
men—business !”

The four immediately stood in a row
and began to sing softly, but with very high,
harsh voices, and in a hopeless, dismal way,
as follows:

‘«‘Snivvery, snavvery, sneevy, snaw ;
Bivvery, bavvery, beevy, baw ;
Kivvery, kavvery, keevy, kaw ;
Whivvery, whavvery, whay.’’

Then they all shivered, and repeated the
song. After they had done this several

19
With the Dream-Maker

times, Phil, himself, began to shiver, so the
singers, at a signal from the old man, got
back into the messenger’s pocket and were |
taken away.

“T never heard that song before,” Phil
remarked,

‘“‘Haven’t you, though? I’m astonished ; I
supposed every little boy in America had
used that dream. But I was going to tell
you about Columbus.”

20
V

and exclaimed :

“The President of the United States—’

“You don’t mean to tell mé that he is
asleep this early-in the night?” interrupted
the manager. ‘Come to think of it, though,
Congress isn’t in session, and he is doing
his best to make up for lost time, poor man!
Well—the President of the United States— ?”

“__Has eaten two pieces of mince pie for
dinner.”

“And he dines at six in the evening,
too,” exclaimed the manager. ‘“That’s just
the way office-holders crowd work upon us
poor working men! One would suppose
that the President would know better. Well,
let me think ; what dream shall I send him?
I'll send the one with grandmothers, which
we generally use on small boys who've eaten
too much pie, but the President sees grannies
too often by daylight, to be frightened by

2I

ee then another messenger hurried in

’
With the Dream-Maker

them. I have it ;—I’ll try on him that dream
that Esau had after eating that mess of pot-
tage, for which he sold his birthright.”

“Oh, how did you get that?” cried Phil.

“Tt’s one of the lot that was given me as
an outfit when I was sent over from Europe,”
explained the old man. ‘‘Our manager got
it in his own outfit, when he was sent from
Asia to establish the European office, but
it was by that time an old-fashioned thing,
and the manager, being young and notional,
insisted on using in such cases a dream made
by himself, so the Esau dream finally got
into the bundle of odds and ends that were
thought good enough for me to use in a
new country. When I first came over I tried
it on an Indian who had taken a twenty-
pound salmon for dinner, after having had
nothing to eat for a week before. But the
dream didn’t work right; dreams are funny
things, anyway, and very sensitive to changes
of scene and climate. When that Esau
dream reached the Indian and began busi-
ness, it seemed to get out of order in some

22
With the Dream-Maker

way. When it was sent to Esau, it dropped
horses and camels and other animals on his
breast, while he couldn’t move hand or foot
to drive them away. When it operated upon
the Indian, however, the animals got under
him and pranced about, which delighted that
savage so much that he and all his kind have
stuffed themselves almost to death whenever
they’ve had the chance.”

“Where did you live before you went
into the dream business?” Phil ventured
to ask.

“Oh, I must tell you about my youthful
period,” the old man replied. ‘“ Havea seat ;
be careful, though, to not lean against the
mountain ; you might knock it over. Well,
in the first place—”

23
VI

“ TOEY Banks again,” interrupted a mes-
senger, who had just come in with a
resigned expression on his face.

«Same trouble?” asked the old man.

‘The very same,” replied the messenger.

“Give him the same old dream, then,”
said the manager, and then he sat down
upon a wee mountain peak that had been
broken off, and unconsciously dropped into
a soliloquy. ‘It beats all,” said he, “that
Joey Banks can’t see that he brings that
. dream on himself. He i

“Jo—Joey Banks?” exclaimed Phil, who
had been standing speechless with astonish-
ment since the arrival of the messenger,
and had just found his tongue, “why—lI
know him!”

“Do you?” said the old man, without
manifesting a bit of the surprise that Phil
had anticipated; ‘well, I hope he doesn’t
make you half the trouble he makes me.



24,
With the Dream-Maker

I'm entirely out of patience with that
boy,

‘Does he come here very often ?” asked
Phil, thinking at the same time that it was a
little too mean for Joey never to have told
him of this wonderful place.

“Come here?” echoed the old man;
“don’t I wish he did?—don’t I wish he’d
come here just once? I bear no malice
toward anyone, but I would willingly lose my
breakfast to give that little scamp a good,
hard shaking.”

“Dear me!” exclaimed Phil; “ what has
he done? I thought he was a pretty nice
boy; he’s one of the very few boys that
mamma is willing I should play with.”

“What has he done? He has used one
of my finest dreams so often that it is com-
pletely worn out; it’s been to the repair
shop again and again, until the master-
repairer says there’s nothing to do but to
make a new one just like it.”

“J shouldn’t think you'd let him play
with it,” ventured Phil, who was somewhat

25
With the Dream-Maker

puzzled to know how Joey could do such
mischief with the dream-maker’s property if
he never visited the place.

“You don’t understand, my boy,” said
the manager. ‘He has ruined this dream
by steady use; we have had to send it to
him—well, I should say certainly four nights
a week for about a year. I wouldn’t com-
plain if it seemed to be doing him any good,
but it isn’t.”

““Why do you send it to him so much?”
asked Phil.

‘Because he compels us to do so. You
see, every evening, when he can, he sneaks
into the dining-room after the family have
finished supper, stuffs himself at the sugar-
bowl. Evenings when they have company
—say two or three every week—he can’t
do it, because company always sits at table
late, and Joey is sent to bed early. But
when he goes to bed with a stomach full of
sugar, and the coats of his stomach becomes
irritated, his blood grows too hot, his head
gets in a blaze, and we have to send him

26
With the Dream-Maker

a dream that does justice to the case.
Perhaps you'd like to see what we do for
Joey? Here, Gruesome, just set the dream
at work—Joey can wait for a single minute,

I think.”

27
Vil

HE sad-faced messenger took some-
thing from his pocket, stooped down,
and emptied his hand on the ground. Phil
looked, and thought he saw a full assortment
of the animals from a very tiny Noah’s ark.
As the creatures expanded, however, as all
dreams do when ready for business, Phil was
greatly troubled to know which animal was
which, for the donkey had a lion’s head, the
cat had paws and claws protruding from all
parts of her body, the goat walked on his
_ hind legs only and was dreadfully cross-eyed,
the horns of the cow were as long as the
tusks of an elephant, the elephant himself
had eyes as large as soup plates, and of the
most fiery red, while there were porcupines,
and a cur dog with a head at each end, and
mosquitoes that carried police clubs, and vari-
ous other beasts that Noah would never have

allowed in the ark on any account.
“Now you see,” said the old man, as the

28
With the Dream-Maker

creatures continued to expand, ‘why, bless
me, what’s become of the boy? Here,” he
continued, as he spied a shaking elbow behind
the coat-tails of the messenger, “don’t be
afraid. Tl make them smaller at once; I
forgot that you weren’t in the business.”
The old man snapped the fingers of one hand
as he gently led Phil forward with the other,
and the creatures all began to shrink.

“Tell me when they’re small. enough,”’
said the manager. ‘I like visitors to be
suited.”

“That is about right, I guess,” said Phil,
as the figures reached the size of the animals
in a large toy ark.

“Very good,” said the manager. “Now
when the whole arrangement was in good
working order, you can imagine what an
uncomfortable night it would make for Joey,
but now one of the heads of the dog wags
like a tail, and the mosquito has lost its voice
through so many violent changes of temper-
ature, and the cat has worn her claws com-
pletely out on the head-board of Joey’s bed,

29
With the Dream-Maker

and the whole combination is generally out
of order, and it’s no small matter to replace
its

“Any one of those things would be bad
enough for me,”’ said Phil, with a shudder.

“Would it?” replied the old man, with
an earnest look of inquiry. ‘Then you
never stole sugar, I guess. Hurry it along,
Gruesome; try to make up for lost time.
Oh—I was going to tell you about the dream
I sent Columbus.”

30
VIII

Y the way,” continued the old man,
“what did you say your name was?”

“My name is Philip Hastie Fuzzytop,”
answered Phil, who was too polite to remind
the old man that he had not previously said
anything whatever about his name.

«Phil Fuzzytop,” said the manager, mus-
ingly, “Phil Fuzzytop—h’m! Let me see;
the last dream I sent you was one about
marbles, wasn’t it?”

“My gracious!” exclaimed Phil, in great
surprise, as he recalled his last dream ; “did
that come from here?”

“Certainly,” said the old man briskly.
“Would you like to see it again? I'll show
it to you in a few minutes, if you'll remind
me of it. It’s out just at present ; we're
using it on another little chap.”

Phil was a very mannerly little boy, and
always spoke respectfully to grown people,
and particularly to old men, but as he recalled
his disappointment at not finding that bag of

31
With the Dream-Maker

marbles in bed when he awoke, he deter-
mined to remonstrate with the old gentleman.

“T don’t think,” said he, timidly, “that it
was very kind to cheat a little boy in that way.
And it was such a big bag of marbles that
I felt dreadful when I found I had lost it.”

“Poor little fellow!” said the old man
tenderly, as he smoothed Phil’s hair, “it
made me feel dreadful, too, but I can’t act
according to my feelings. I don't decide
what dreams people are to have ; I only send
them out. All persons arrange for their own
dreams, though very few of them seem to
know it, You'd seen some other boy, with
a lot of marbles, that day, I believe?”

“1 believe you know everything,” said
Phil, looking a little afraid of his questioner.

“Not quite,” laughed the old man, “ But
you’d seen Sammy Glenn's marbles that day,
hadn't you?”’

“Yes,” said Phil, “twenty-seven com-
mons, four China alleys, a bull’s eye, anda
glass one, and I wanted a lot just like them
—wanted them awfully.”

32
With the Dream-Maker

“But your papa thought you had marbles
enough, because those that you had were
always on the floor, to make people’s feet go
suddenly from under them, make the nurse
tumble with the baby, and the cook, when
bringing dinner to the table.”

‘“Why, did my papa tell you all about it,
and ask you to give me that dream to punish
me?” asked Phil, almost ready to cry.

‘Oh, no; you kept wanting the marbles,
when you knew your parents thought it best
for you not to have them—that was how you
came by the dream. Here it comes, now,”
continued the speaker, selecting a small
package, no larger than one’s finger-end,
from among the dreams which a returning
messenger was assorting so as to put them
away. ‘Havea look?” :

“No, I thank you,” said Phil with a sigh,
as the package dilated to the size of a well-
filled marble bag.

“Good boy!” said the old man approv-
ingly; “I don’t believe you will ever need
that dream again.”

3

33
IX

“s ERHAPS,” the dream-maker said, after
regarding Phil tenderly a moment, ed

can show you something nicer. Has number

Ninety-three come in yet. Bright-eye?”’

“Aye, aye, sir!” responded a cheery voice
from the inner recesses of the apartment ;
“just done with, Worked the whole thing,
too.”

“Quite right,” said the manager approv-
ingly ; “the little girl deserved it. She has a
baby brother, and a sister not much older,
so in spite of mother and nurse there is some-
-times a great lot of baby-tending to do in
that family. To-day the two youngsters were
very peevish, and the mother was very busy
at some sewing that was behindhand, so the
little girl gave up ber play and was baby-
nurse all day. She was dreadfully tired when .
she went to bed—almost too tired to dream,
but we sent her this.”

As the old man spoke, the attendant,

34
With the Dream-Maker

named Bright-eye, brought in a tiny play-
house, which, expanding as the other dreams
had done, proved to be perfect in every way,
and fully furnished, with a beautiful garden
surrounding it, a piano and musical box in the
parlor, some handsomely dressed visitors in
the reception room, and a very tidy cook in
the kitchen.

“There,” said the old man, “we left that
dream with her until she had enjoyed it to
her heart’s content. We could have sent her
brother something equally jolly if he had
made himself as useful, but when his mother
asked him to mind the baby for only five
minutes, he snarled out, “Oh, dear!” just
because he was sailing a boat in a basin of
water, and didn’t want his fun interrupted.”

“What—what’s the little girl’s name?”
asked Phil, his eyes opening very wide.

“Nellie Fuzzytop,” replied the old man.
“Why,” continued he, looking at Phil, “I do
believe it’s your own sister I’ve been telling
you about? Well, well—and you're the boy
that wouldn’t look out for his baby brother

35
With the Dream-Maker

for a few minutes? Too bad—too bad. Do
you know, I’d give the best dream in my col-
lection if I had a baby brother to take care
of—I really would.”

The old man looked very lonesome as he
said this, and then Phil noticed that a tear
had found its way out of each of his eyes.
All this touched Phil’s heart, which was very
tender, so he softly gave his companion’s
hand a squeeze, which seemed to give great
comfort to the owner of millions of dreams,
but not a single baby brother.

36
X

i ELL, well, this will never do,” said the
manager, finally, after picking Phil
up in his arms and giving him a hearty hug.
“The heavy work of the night will begin pretty
soon, and I must see that everything is in
proper order. I can trust the boys to attend
to the early sleepers, but when it comes to the
late, irregular people—party-goers, gamblers,
congressmen, drunkards, gay young men and
that sort of thing, besides the people who sit
up far into the night over schemes they might
better let alone—why, then I must attend to
my own business or there will be trouble.
Perhaps you'd like to come inside?”

“I should like to very much, if I won’t be
in the way,” said Phil.

‘No danger,” said the manager, leading
the way, ‘‘we’ve any quantity of room here ;
two used-up mountain ranges turned upside
down and tipped toward each other.”

“Where does the light come from?”

37
With the Dream-Maker

asked Phil. ‘I don’t see any gas burners or
lamps.”

“Light?—Oh! Well, when we turned
the mountains over, we left, just as it was,
the sunlight that was on their sides; it’s
plenty good enough for our business. Here,”
continued Phil’s guide, turning to the right a
peak which was upside down and seemed
to have a great lot of sunlight behind it;
‘“here’s the principal store-room.”’

Phil looked around him; the place was
as neat as his mamma’s newly-furnished bed-
chamber, and the walls were thickly studded
with niches, hooks and brackets, most of
which contained dreams, but it seemed to
Phil very small to hold all the dreams neces-
sary to North America, and he said as much
to the manager.

“Small?” queried the old man with a
mystified stare. “Oh, I see; you've for-
gotten that our dreams, when not in use,
occupy the very tiniest bit of space. Why,
see here,” said he, pointing to what looked
like a dewdrop with a sparkle of dust in it,

38






Here’s the principal store-room—Page 38
With the Dream Maken

“here’s a dream I have to keep ten thousand
duplicates of ; it’s the flowery-garden dream
that we send to lovers when they first begin.
To save the vegetation from drying up we
have to keep the dream moist when not in
use, and how much water do ‘you suppose it
takes for the lot?”

‘‘Oh, whole oceans,” said Phil.

The old man laughed heartily and replied:
‘Just one drop. There are the whole ten
thousand in that drop of water, and there’s
room left for ten million more.”

“Goodness me!” exclaimed Phil, com-
pletely overcome.

39
XI

a ERE’S another instance,” said the old
man, adjusting his glasses and feeling
and looking cautiously about a small crevice,
from which he finally took a small silver box
and shook something which, under a magni-
fying glass that he handed Phil, looked likea
very small and dingy pearl, “here’s the whole
assortment of dreams we send to honest
politicians. That bag hasn’t been opened
for—well, not this year; I overlooked it last
inspection day, somehow, but it didn’t mat-
“ter ; we haven’t needed anything out of it.”

“Inspection day ?”’ echoed Phil. “What
sort of a day is that? Is it anything like
election day?”

‘Not exactly,” said the old man. “It’s
something like what your mother would call
the autumn house cleaning—a day in which
we get out and examine all the dreams. Ah,
you should be here then. Every dream is
taken out, worked up to its full size, and

40
With the Dream-Maker

thoroughly examined. -You talk about this
store-room being small—I wonder what you
would say if you were to see us at inspec-
tion. Why, the things fill all the space be-
tween these two mountain ranges—thirteen
thousand square miles of dreams. That’s
why we need so much room here ; even now
some of the dreams have to stand outside on
inspection day, and every year I declare I'll
‘have to put on an extension. I hardly know
what mountains to use though.”

“Tl tell you,” said Phil ; “take the twenty-
five highest ones in the world, because my
geography teacher makes me study the
names and altitudes of them; it’s an awful
hard job ; it makes my head ache fit to split.”

“You don’t mean to say she does that?”
asked the old man. ‘‘ Well, Pll just put up
a dream for her that will set her thinking—
Pll do it as sure as my name’s—”

Phil jumped with eagerness, for he felt
that he had been simply dying to know the
name of his companion, though he wouldn’t
have asked it for the world. But he was

41
With the Dream-Maker

doomed to disappointment, for a sudden idea
struck the old man, and he slapped his knee
and exclaimed :

“T have it! I’ll send over to Europe and
see if I can’t get the Alps for my extension ;
they'll suit my purpose perfectly, and then
there won’t be so many foolish fellows risk-
ing their lives at mountain climbing every
year just because a few wise men did it
before them. Ill try to use some of your
bugbears too, though, for we need height in
which to show off some of the bigger dreams
that are too light to stay on the ground with-
out being fastened. Then won’t inspection
be a grand affair? It’s no small thing now,
though, as you may imagine—by the way,
suppose you drop in at the next inspection,
if you don’t have anything better to do?”

“Oh, Pll be sure to come,” said Phil,
eagerly. ‘Please tell me when it will be.”

“Ah, there’s the trouble,” said the old
man, suddenly looking perplexed. ‘To
make up my mind when to have inspection
is what bothers me more than anything else

42
With the Dream-Maker

in this business. You see, it’s almost impos-
sible to find a time when all the dreams are
here. Dreaming time practically lasts seven-
teen hours out of the twenty-four, because
six o'clock, the time when very little children
go to bed, doesn’t come in California until
five hours later than in New England, and
at nearly every hour of the day some one
is asleep somewhere. I hadn’t any such
trouble when I first began these inspections
—it was soon after the Puritans landed.
You see, they had three or four fast days a
year, when they went to bed with quiet
stomachs, and didn’t need any dreams at all ;
and as for the Indians, I always had dupli-
cates that I could use on them. But every
year the question grew more puzzling.
The fellows who came over to Virginia didn’t
have any fast days, for they were pretty fast
all the year round,—ha! ha !—eh?”’

43
XII

HE old gentleman paused a moment,
looked at Phil, and then seemed rather
chagrined that his pun was not laughed at.
Suddenly remembering, however, that the
boy was too young to see the point of such
a joke, he smoothed his forehead and con-
tinued : wilt
‘ Those Virginia settlers were hot bloods
who needed new and special dreams by the
score; the Spaniards and French who
attempted to settle, were worse yet, and the
Dutch who founded New Amsterdam, after-
wards New York, though outwardly quieter,
were, on the whole, just as bad. Why some
of the dreams I had to give those Dutchmen,
when they went to bed ona stomach full of »
greasy crullers, are among the most dreadful
things in my collection. I have not much use
for them now, though, except for certain little
boys on Thanksgiving Day.”
“You were lucky in having somebody

44
With the Dream-Maker

that you didn’t have to make new dreams for,
anyhow,” said Phil; «The Indians, I mean.”

«Bless you,” said the old man, “ they
soon became as troublesome as anybody else.
Wherever white men settled they carried rum
with them; they gave it to the Indians, and
from that time to this I’ve had precious little
use for my original Indian collection. Up to
fifty years ago I was all right with the red-
skins west of the Mississippi, but the hunters
began to creep out that way, and hunters
always carry whiskey, you know ; then folks
began to scurry across the plains to dig’ gold
in California more whiskey — finally the
government sent out a lot of rascals called
Indian agents—still more whiskey—and since
then every Indian tribe has been a torment
to me.

“By the way,” continued the old man,
passing a bracket and set of hooks completely
covered with cobwebs, ‘“‘here’s a lot of anti-
quated dreams that may have made people
think hardly of me, but I want it distinctly
understood that I’m not in any way to blame.

45
With the Dream-Maker

As I said before, I don’t determine what
dreams people are to use—they do it them-
selves. My business is simply to supply what
is demanded by each person. This old lot is
the Salem witchcraft set.”

“Ugh-gh-gh!” said Phil, with an uncon-
trollable shiver, ‘I think I had better go

home now—I’m sure mamma wants me.”

46
XIII

ic ON’T be frightened, little fellow,” said

the old man, tenderly. “ None of them
will ever trouble you—you're too full of
healthy spirits. But I want to explain my posi-
tion. The Puritans came over here from Eng-
land, you know, to be able to worship as they
pleased, and a very plucky and honorable
thing it was to do—I’d have done it myself
if I’d been in their fix. But they didn’t real-
ize what they’d left behind them. They'd
left all the acquaintances of the kind that
don’t seem to amount to much until you get
away from them ; all the life and scenes they
were familiar with ; nearly all the affairs they
had been in the habit of seeing, thinking
about and interesting themselves in, though
probably they didn’t realize it. I tell you
that earnest people, as they were, need
many things to keep their minds busy—they
left all that and came over here, where they
had only people of their own kind to look

47
With the Dream-Maker

at and talk to—only trees and huts around’
them, instead of the busy, varying scenes of
the Old World. It had a bad effect on them.
The first generation stood it pretty well, for
they were grown up when they came, but
the next was cross-grained and twisted, and
the next was all that, and top-heavy besides.
‘All work and no play makes Jack a dull
boy ’—you’ve heard that, I suppose? And
all think and no fun addles the brains of an
earnest man. They tried to think of only
one subject; they thought about things too
big for them, and when anybody does that he’s
worse off than if he’d never thought at all.”
“T guess I know how they felt,” said Phil ;
“’twas something like I feel after I've had to
puzzle over mixed fractions for six hours.”
“Exactly,” said the old man, patting Phil
approvingly on the back. ‘ You’ve hit it to
a dot; only, your parents and grandparents
haven’t thought about mixed fractions, and
nothing but mixed fractions, for the past fifty
years. Well, they thought themselves nearly
crazy about religion, and then they naturally

48
With the Dream-Maker

dropped to thinking about the devil, and it
took only the least outward sign to make
them go clean daft. One man got to think-
ing about witches hard, so I had to send him
an appropriate dream ; I hated to do it, but
I’m never allowed to neglect my duty. He
talked about it, thinking it was a vision from
heaven, and suddenly everybody that list-
ened to it began thinking the same way, and
the worst of it was, they took to dreaming
while they were awake, and that’s the very
worst sort of a dream. I would have given
my best dream if I could have talked to
those people for five minutes, and told them
what fools they were making of themselves,
but ’twas of no use to wish—I could only
go on making dreams for them, for I’m not
allowed to speak to a living being.”

“Why,” said Phil, strangely imagining
fora moment that he was back in his own
bed, “I’m a living being, and you’re talking
tome.”

49
xIV

SORT of mist seemed to fill the apart-

~ ment; Phil lost sight of his friend,
and thought himself at home, but an instant
later he was back with the old man, although
in another apartment, without knowing
exactly how he came there.

“This,” explained the manager, “is the
repair shop. There’s not much doing at
this hour, because such work is generally
done in the daytime, when there isn’t much
demand for our goods. There’s one or two
things, however, that may interest you.
Here on the work-bench is a dream that an
ambitious politician will need in an hour or
two, as soon as he goes to bed; it’s the one
that we always send, about election time, to
men who try to believe their chances good,
but can’t feel exactly sure of it. Here’s the
office he wants—see?—a room with desks,
books and a large safe; look through the
open doors, and you will see drawers full of

50
With the Dream-Maker

gold, and pigeon-holes filled with bank notes,
and between this and him are some stretch-
ers, a thousand times as elastic as India
rubber. All night long the politician reaches
for the office, but just as his fingers nearly
touch the sate, the stretchers expand, and
the safe moves out of reach. The last man
we used it on had a very poor chance, the
safe would go so far away that it took all
the elasticity out of the stretchers, and we've
got to put new ones in. We'll have to use
this about a hundred thousand times between
now and election day, but I don’t think it
worth while to have any duplicate—a little of
it goes a great way.”

“Did you ever send any dreams to George
Washington?” asked Phil.

“Didn't I, though?” replied the old man.
“Well, I only mean to say that I never laid
myself out on anybody as I did on him. He
was one of the level-headed kind who never
need a dream in time of peace, but during
the eight years in which he carried all of the
country’s troubles in his mind he kept me

51
With the Dream-Maker

busy. My old master, in Europe, who, as I
said before, was a monarchist, wanted me to
frighten George; but I knew the man and
he didn’t, so it ended in my making a little
Declaration of Independence all by myself.
It raised a great row, and I was reported to
the grand head of the dream bureau, in Asia,
and a man was sent over to succeed me, but
he was so ignorant as to what the people
wanted that his dreams would never stay
where he put them, and he went home, feel- _
ing very downcast. We all made up after-
ward, though, and Europe and Asia gave in
and said I was right, and they’d let me alone
in future to attend to the business in my
own way. We're on such good terms now,
that we often borrow dreams of each other
on a pinch; Europe occasionally sends to
me in a hurry for a dream fit for a French
republican, while I had to borrow pretty fre-
quently of Asia when the Chinese first began
to come over, and I hadn’t got the hang of
their ways. But George Washington |—
why, I supplied him and. the whole Conti-

52
With the Dream Maker

nental Congress, besides doing the proper
thing for the British commanders while they
were in America. I tried hard to get special
permission to try my hand for just one night
on George the Third and Lord North, but I
was bluntly told to mind my own business.”

53
XV

HE manager, after excusing himself a
moment to inspect a badly worn
dream that was going out, said:
“By the way, do you know that there
. was one revolutionary character that I never
could get an excuse to send a single dream
to?”
“Why, no,” replied Phil. ‘‘ Who was he?”
“Guess,” said the old man. ‘But no—
you're not old enough to take in the philos-
ophy of dreams. It was Ben Franklin. I
never saw such a man. No matter how
things went, he was always cheerful and hope-
ful, and he never ate or drank too much.
Once I thought I had him, but I didn’t know
himas wellthen asI didafterwards. It was the
day he finished that dreadful wood-cut of the
‘Union Snake,’ for the head of his news-
paper. Did you ever see it?—a snake in
thirteen pieces—thirteen states, you know—
and underneath it the motto ‘Union or

54
With the Dream-Maker

Death.’ Benjamin was a philosopher, but
he was human, and he was ever so proud of
that picture, wood-engraving not having
reached in those days the enon you see
it in now. But no; he looked at it a few
minutes, his eyes brightening and his cheek
coloring up; then he sat down quietly and
wrote a long article on the ‘ State of the con-
flict’ If all people were like Benjamin, I
could take the vacation that I’ve had to post-
pone for twelve centuries.”

‘Twelve centuries?” exclaimed Phil in
astonishment. ‘“Why—so it is. You must
be—say would you object to telling me how
old you really are?”

“Bless me—I don’t know,” said the old
man, with a laugh that was somewhat forced.

“You don’t know?” echoed Phil, inquir-
ingly. ‘“Can’t you find out by looking in
your family Bible?”

The old man laughed loud and long.
“Why,” said he, when at last he recovered his
breath, “there wasn’t a family Bible in exist-
ence until nearly a thousand years after I

55
With the Dream-Maker

came to America. I came over in the time
of Alfred the Great, I believe I told
you?”

‘So you did,” said Phil, “but—really—
don’t that make you older than Methus-
elah?”

“Well, I should say so,” said the old
man. ‘I'd been an apprentice for years
when Methuselah was a baby.”

“But the Sunday-school lessons say that
Methuselah was the oldest man,” said Phil,
rather timidly, for he feared that he might
wound the old man’s pride if he made light
of his age. Phil was immensely proud of his
being two years older than his sister Nellie ;
what, then, must be the sense of superiority
of a person who had apparently lived hund-
reds of years longer than Methuselah ?

“The Sunday-school lessons are quite
right,” said the old man. “But you can’t
exactly understand just now.”

56
XVI

“TITTLE Maggie O’Connor again!” ex-
claimed a messenger, hurrying sud-
denly into the repair shop.

“Well?” replied the old man, somewhat
impatiently,

“Well?” echoed the messenger.

The manager looked up inquiringly, rub-
bed his forehead, and then his eyes, and said:

‘Oh, yes ; let me see; I’ve been letting
my mind run backward a few thousand years
instead of attending to business. Little Mag-
gie O’Connor? oh, yes—that’s the little girl
down inthe slums who has the scarlet fever.”

“Yes, and given up by the doctor,”
replied the messenger.

‘You don’t tell me?” said the manager.
‘Take her our very best, then. By the way,
Flyer, stop a moment—just leave it with her
as long as she lasts.” The old man fell to
musing, but finally said:

‘“Now, there’s one of the consolations of

57
With the Dream-Maker

being a dream-maker. Poor little Maggie
has no father and a brute of a mother. To
die is the best thing she can do. Nobody is
paying her any attention, but she doesn’t
know it—she will know nothing but delight-
ful dreams until she wakes in a land where
everybody likes little children. What 2—
Oh, I’m afraid Flyer will be too late. She’s
going ; hats off, little fellow. Ah, I thought
so—here’s the dream back again—she’s
gone!” The old man wiped his eyes on his
shirt sleeve and finally said :

“I wish I might have done more for her.”

“Are you always so anxious to comfort
- sick children?” asked Phil. softly, after find-
ing his hand held tightly in that of the oldman.

“Always!” exclaimed the manager with
emphasis. ‘I daren’t go outside the strict
line of my duty, but I’m always allowed to
do my best for helpless children. You little
ones are the hope of the world, my boy ; try
to remember this whenever you’re tempted
to do the least thing out of the way. But
what’s this?”

58
XVII

EFORE this question Phil was conscious
B that something was buzzing industri-
ously about the old man, who was brushing
away ata great rate with his hands and hand-
kerchief. Phil immediately suggested mos-,
quitoes, and was about to suggest that he
would run home and get some extract of
pennyroyal with which his mother always
bathed the children’s faces during the mos-
quito season, when the old man exclaimed
testily :

‘There, there ; I know you’re here, you
needn’t make such a terrible fuss. Let's see
who you are and what the trouble is.”

So saying the old man snapped his fin-
gers, and the animated speck that Phil had
taken for a mosquito swelled gradually to the
size and shape of an old woman, greatly bent,
with a hooked nose, toothless mouth, and a
sharp-pointed cane with which she prodded
the ground rapidly.

59
With the Dream-Maker

“Oh, it’s you, is it?” asked the manager.

“Yes,” replied the old hag, “and a dis-
graceful time I’ve had of it. I'd no more
than got to that overfed boy that I was sent
to than he turned over on his side and got
some relief from his pain, so a mere upstart
of a thing with five front teeth—five, upon
my honor as a truthful dream—came and
replaced me. I want to know if you call that
fairness. If age and experience aren’t to be
respected in this business, I should like to
know it, once for all, and take myself away
from where I’m not wanted. Haven’t you
often told me that I could outstare and out-
- prod any grandmother dream in the estab-
lishment ?”’

“Certainly I have,” said the old man,
“but ’—

“Didn’t I leave a good place in the
European bureau, where I attended to all the
royal princes and princesses, because you
solemnly declared that I should have more
business here, and among people who really
had more money than royal families ?”

60 :
With the Dream-Maker

“Yes,” said the old man, “but I’m not
to blame for the change that’s come over
affairs. How could I know that Americans
were bound to speculate and lose all their
money? I’mas badly disappointed as you
are at having to look after a lot of bankrupts,
besides I’m in far worse trouble than you, for
every day I have to make new dreams for
these people—dreams suchas folks that save
their money never need. Now, go and take
a rest, do; and remember that I’m your best
friend. There are better times in store for
you. When experience has taught Ameri-
cans to save the money that’s coming to
them so fast there'll soon be so many rich
men’s children that you can’t begin to attend
to them all—you’ll beg to go back to royalty
for a rest.”

61
XVIII

-Â¥HE old woman seemed somewhat paci-

fied, for she gradually contracted to
the usual size of dreams, and buzzed away
to her proper niche, while the old man
remarked in confidence to Phil:

“Now, there’s a sample of one of my
troubles. She wants to monopolize a certain
portion of the business, but will work only
in the best circles. I’ve thousands of dreams
that are in the same discontented, unreason-
able condition. Because they do well in
their proper position, they think themselves
equal to anything and every thing else.
They all insist upon promotion, and I’m
utterly unable to explain: to them, without
hurting their feelings, that they areas high as
they deserve to be. Why, a year or two ago
three of the dreams came to me and seri-
ously proposed to work in combination and
look after a certain presidental candidate
until election day! One of them proposed

62
se

With the Dream-Maker

to warn him, another to encourage and a
third to tease. And they, all told, were
only three dreams! Why, that candidate
needed at least two thousand dreams before
the returns came in ; of which fully one-half
had to be made to order, and his measure
carefully taken for each one. Let’s change
the subject it makes me cross to think
about it.”

‘Perhaps you might forget it, if you’d
tell me about the dreams you gave Colum-
bus,” suggested Phil.

“Like enough,” said the old gentleman.
‘‘ Let's us go back to the store-room and get
out the Columbus collection ; it. hasn’t been
asked for in so long, that I’ll have to refresh
my memory about it. Once or twice I’ve
been tempted to throw those Columbus
dreams in the waste heap, so as to make
room for something else, as we are rather
crowded in point of room, but each time
there’s been one or more parties trying to find
the North Pole, and I’ve kept the lot in
hand, in case the great discovery should be

63


With the Dream-Maker

made—all discoverers need about the same
dreams, as a rule.”

The‘couple started from the repair shop
toward the store-room to view the Columbus
collection, when suddenly the manager turned
abruptly and said,

“Perhaps you'd like to see the waste-
heap? It’s not very pretty, but if you've
a boy’s natural love for odds and ends that
are of no use to any one else, you may find
something there to interest you. Here it

”

is.

64
XIX

ale HE heap appeared so like a pile of ordi-

nary gravel that Phil was quite disap-
pointed, but, wishing to say something polite,
he remarked,

“You'll never have to put an extension
on your waste-room ; it would hold a hundred
times as much.”

“What? Never?” echoed the old man.

“T should think not.”

The manager clapped his hands and
instantly the waste heap began to swell and
tumble apart, while each little particle swelled
to its original working size and shape. They
were a sorry looking lot, however, and
reminded Phil forcibly of the contents of a
junk dealer’s wagon. Suddenly the old gen-
tleman, who had been poking the rubbish
about with his foot, picked up a queer com-
bination of tea-kettle, lever and dough-balls,
saying,

“JT wonder, now, if you can imagine
what this is? It was never used but once,
65
With the Dream-Maker

and as there is no likelihood of its ever
being called for again, it was sent here from
Europe about a century ago, just to relieve
the store-room on the other side.”

“‘T give it up,” said Phil.

“T thought you would,” replied the old
man. ‘Well, that combination was little
Watt’s first dream about the steam-engine
which he afterward invented.”

“Oh, I remember about him,” exclaimed
Phil. “TI tried to learn something about
steam myself, by hammering a medicine-
bottle cork into the spout of our tea-kettle,
but it came out when I wasn’t there, and
broke the kitchen window, and frightened
the cook so that she gave warning.”

“Did it, though?” asked the old man,
laughing so hard that the tears finally
streamed down his wrinkled face. ‘I ought
to have sent you a jolly dream for that—I
hope I did; do you happen to remember
anything Shou ite

No, Phil could not recall the exact date,
‘so the old gentleman proceeded :

66


He began to wonder how this discovery could be made useful—Page 67
With the Dream-Maker

“This little Watts boy, you know, was
really a very good sort of a youngster, who
tried hard to learn all about things, but he
was a boy for all that, and as he did not cut
up much during the day, we rewarded him
at night by giving him dreams all full of
boyish pranks. After he had noticed that
the force of the steam would raise the lid of
the tea-kettle he began to wonder how this
discovery could be made useful. He thought
it over so long that he began to grow mor-
bid—do you know what that word means ?
No? Well, it means head-sick.”

‘Like you feel with a hard arithmetic
sum that you can’t get the right answer for?”
asked Phil.

“You've got it,’ said the old man.
“Well, he grew morbid, so we got up this
dream forhim. You see there’s a bar cross-
ing the lidof the kettle; one end is fastened
down, but the other and longer end bobs up
quite briskly when the kettle-lid is forced up.
On this long end we placed a little ball of
dough, which, when’ the lid rose, would be

67
With the Dream-Maker

thrown by the bar to quite a little distance,
and when the ball came down it would hit a
cat, who would spring about in a most aston-
ished manner, but always came back in time
to be hit by the next ball. This dream
pleased the little fellow so much that he
laughed heartily and long in his sleep, and
the next day found himself so clear headed
as to develop the idea of a cylinder and pis-
ton from the lid and bar.”

“You—you couldn’t make the dream
work now, could you?” asked Phil.

“J could,” said the old man, “if I had a
cat, but the cat belonging to this was
detached, being really as good as new, and
used on a rat that not only ruined cheese,
but ate more than was good. for him, so he
had to have a frightening dream.”

68
XX

iy O you really send dreams to animals ?”
asked Phil, in open-mouthed wonder.

‘‘Certainly,” said the manager. “We
send them to everything that has life. Car
horses and beggar’s dogs get the nicer ones,
and richly they deserve them, poor things.
Oh—you mustn’t let me forget to show you
the dream that we send to conceited but
sleepy young roosters that think the day-
light couldn’t come unless they first got up
and crowed. This is the dream ‘they awake
with : just as they raise their heads to crow
they see a dozen suns already risen and each
sun looking at them, no two in the same
way, but all sad, or angry, or provoked, or
reproachful, or something unpleasant.”

“ How funny !” exclaimed Phil.

“Oh, we've lots of funny dreams here,”
said the manager. “ Let’s stroll back to the
entrance, and see what's going out.”

Back the couple went, through the repair

69
With che Dream-Maker

shop and into the store room. Here Phil
became conscious of an occasional buzzing
or whizzing in the air, and asked what it was.

“That?” asked the manager. ‘Oh,
that’s made by dreams on their way back to
their places. The early dreams are return-
ing now, or beginning to; they’re the ones
that people have when they first drop
asleep.”

“You don’t mean to say that they can
find their way back alone from any part of
the United States ?”’ exclaimed Phil.

“Yes I do,” said the manager, “but
please don’t say United States; it makes
the business seem too small; say America.
Remember that I have to look out for Esqui-
maux, Patagonians and everybody who lives
between the poles, besides the inhabitants of
the West Indies and Bermudas.”

“How do they find their way back?”

‘“‘Kasily enough,” said the manager, “ for
if they turn either to the right or left, they
find they can’t get along at all. Why, I had
one wild young dream here once that used

70
With the Dream-Maker

to try to lounge about after its work was
done, so as to come home with another
dream to which it had taken a great liking,
but each time it returned so. tired out that it
gave up its irregular habits and became as
regular as the oldest dream in the collec-
tion.”

“Well, I never!” exclaimed Phil.

‘No? Well, I suppose not.”

71


XXI

HEN the manager turned to a number
of men, almost as old looking as him-
self, and asked:

“What's going out, boys?”

“Mostly children’s sizes, and those for
people who've fallen asleep while lying on their
backs,” answered one of the so-called boys.
“We're in a puzzle, now, though—I'm very
glad you've come.”

“Why, what’s up?”

“There’s a little boy down in Central
America who’s been robbing a banana tree
in the garden next door to his own, and he’s
eaten a whole bunch.”

“Qh, don’t I wish I were he!” exclaimed
Phil; he really couldn’t help it.

“T say the half-dozen grandmother dreams
is the proper thing for him,” said another
man, without paying the slightest regard to
the interruption.

“Nonsense!” replied the manager, “if

72
With the Dream. Maker

he ate them down there, they were ripe—
not the heavy things that are sold up this
way. They won't trouble his digestion in
the least.”

“Didn’t I tell you so?” exclaimed the
first speaker, triumphantly. ‘I insisted that
what he needs is a conscience tickler—say
about No. 4 size, he being a small boy, and
brought up with only Central American ideas
of honesty.”

“You're right; hurry it along, though,”
said the manager. “Anything else?”

“Yes,” said one of the men, “we're
short of room for dreams for the inventors
that have multiplied so rapidly within a year
or two, and as the inventors’ department
is just beside that of the discoverers, and
there don’t seem to be any likelihood of that
latter ever being needed again, why can’t we
clear out the stuff that was used on the
Northmen, Cabot, Columbus, and—”

“At last !’’ exclaimed Phil. He meant to
say it to himself, but he was so filled with the
desire of seeing Columbus dreaming that he

73
With the Dream-Maker

spoke aloud. The store-room man seemed
rather surprised and annoyed by the inter-
ruption, but he finally continued :

‘— And throw them all on the waste-
heap.”

“All but the Columbus lot!” exclaimed
Phil aloud ; this time he fully intended to be
heard.

74
XXII

i: ULLO !” exclaimed one of the store-
room men, looking at Phil in aston-

ishment. ‘Have we a new manager?”

Phil at once felt terribly abashed, and
sneaked behind the legs of the manager, but
the old man laughed heartily and replied :

“That's all right. I’ve been promising
all night to show the Columbus collection to
my young friend, and he doesn’t want it
destroyed before he sees it. I like your per-
sistence, youngster. It'll makea man of you,
if you take good care of it and train it. Just
hand me out that Columbus collection, and
Pll explain it right away, before—”

“Georgie Blake has been hooking
apples,” interrupted a messenger who had
just come in.

“First offence?’ asked the old man.

eS

“Country boy, or city?”

“ H’m—about half and half, I should say.”

75
With the Dream-Maker
“Then send him the dog dream, the

policeman dream, the angry farmer dream
and the jail dream ; work them all together on
him.”

“Hooray!” exclaimed the messenger,
with an ugly chuckle, which boded no good
to Georgie Blake.

“JT suspect, now, that you think we're
rather hard on a first offence?” said the old
man.

«J | well, I really do,” said Phil,
honestly.

“T don’t wonder,” replied the manager ;
‘it naturally seems so at first sight, but a
boy who has stolen apples for the first time
has a very touchy conscience, and if we work
industriously upon that, we may Keep him
from ever doing such a thing again. If we
were to let him off easy, he would soon fall
to thinking that apple-stealing was fun, and
when boys get to doing wrong things for fun,
they’re on the way to jail, sure,”

76
XXIII

Y this time the returning dreams were
B so increasing in numbers that a steady
whizzing sound pervaded the apartment.
Suddenly a deep shadow fell upon the couple,
and Phil, after looking upward, shrieked and
clutched frantically at the manager’s arm.
The manager also looked up; then he
shouted ;

«What is the matter? Why, Number
107, what do you mean by returning in this
condition ?”’

“Number 62 ran into me and broke my
contractor,” replied 107, who was an immense
horse with wings on his shoulders and hoofs
and a most knowing human wink in one eye, .
which wink so reassured Phil that he soon
found himself contemplating the animal with
calm but boyish curiosity.

“Where had you been?” enquired the
manager.

“At the race-course, sir, moving about
promiscuously among the rich greenhorns.”

77
With the Dream-Maker

“Where had 62 been?”

The flying horse hung his head a bit, and
as he had no finger to put into his mouth,
after the manner of boys who find detection
at hand, he sucked the wing of one of his
hoofs instead, while he looked furtively and
shame-facedly from under the upper lid of
one eye.

“You're jealous of each other—you’ve
been fighting!” exclaimed the old man.

‘No, we haven’t, sir—we really haven't ;
that is, I haven’t. J only looked at him, and
he ran bang into me. Just feel the bump,
please, that he gave me on the back.”

“What did you do to him? Nothing, I
presume?”

“T only just began the winged
horse, when the manager stopped him with:

“Never mind; here comes Number 62
himself. Now, I guess, I'll get at the truth
of this matter.”

Number 107 tried violently to contract
himself, but without avail, and his expression
was so dreadful that Phil began again to be

78

”


With the Dream-Maker

frightened, but his attention was diverted by
the appearance of Number 62. This also
was a horse, but instead of having wings he
was lame in one leg and badly foundered,
although he bore on his side in large letters
the word “ FAVORITE.”

“What's all this about, Number 62?”
asked the manager sternly.

“Tt’s only this,” replied 62, tossing his

head in the most spirited manner imaginable ;
‘“‘T won’t be twitted on myappearance by any
beast whatever—even one with five pairs of
wings. I attend to my own business; I’ve
fooled as many betting fools as he has, yet as
soon as he came alongside of me on the way
back he pointed one ear at my game leg, and
began to say, ‘ee! ee!’ Do you suppose
I’d endure that? No, sir! So I gave him
one kick which I think took down his
conceit somewhat. I kicked so hard that I
broke my own contractor, too.”

“Now, aren’t you ashamed of your-
selves?’ asked the old man, in a most
reproachful tone. ‘ Haven’t I often told you

79
With the Dream-Maker

that private feelings have no right to inter-
fere with the public welfare? The Coney
Island races begin to-day, and both of you
should be busily engaged at this very instant.
Instead of that, you’re only fit for the waste-
heap, with Odin’s eight-legged horse Sleip-
ner, who wouldn’t ask anything better than to
kick you both.”

“ Please, sir,” said Number 107, begin-
ning to cry, “forgive me this once, I'll never
do it again.”

“Neither will I, sir—indeed I won't,”
said Number 62, who had already wept so
profusely that Phil cautiously stepped aside
to avoid getting his shoes wet.

“Then see to it that you don’t. Now, go
to the repair-shop and have yourselves
mended. Stop, come back; I want you to
kiss and be friends.

The tears of both horses at once ceased
to flow, and their eyes began to glare most
impenitently, but there was no help for them,
so they embraced and kissed each other, after
which they slunk away, making dreadful faces.

80
XXIV

© HEY think I didn’t see that,” said the

old man, who had pretended not to
be looking. ‘Well, they won’t quarrel
again—not at present, I’m sure. All the
horses in my collection are in mortal dread
of Sleipner, whom Odin used to ride, and
whom I occasionally trotted out when the
Northmen were prowling about these
coasts.”

‘‘Won’t you please tell me something
about that eight-legged horse P” asked Phil.
‘How were the extra legs put on?”

“ He had no extra legs !” replied the old
man bluntly. ‘The story came of the ways
of his master, who was one of the business-
like chaps who seem often to be in several
places at the same time, so the people first
thought he was helped by the devil, and then
that his horse had eight legs; finally they
made themselves believe that Odin himself
was a god. I’ve seen all of Odin’s horses,

6
“81
With the Dream-Maker

and a miserable lot they were ; half the time
he had to dismount and walk. There wasn’t
much attention paid to horse-breeding in his
time, you see, so the consequence was that
his entire stable, could it be put up at auction
to-day, wouldn’t bring a hundred dollars.
Eight legs, indeed! I suppose, now, that if
you were to go to some schools that I could
name, and learn all the lessons well, just
because you fixed your mind upon them, the
other boys would believe you had two heads !
Folks are always ready to find some unnat-
ural cause for the success of industrious and
sensible people ; usually they say ‘Luck.’ It
never occurs to them to say ‘ Work,’ which
was the secret of success in Odin’s day, just
as it is now,”

82
XXV

De your dreams often quarrel, as the
two horses did a moment ago?”
Phil inquired.

‘Not often, though in a large collection
there will naturally be some jealousies. The
worst difficulty I can remember was between
four dreams that I sent out to operate, in
quick succession, upon a dying millionaire.
There’s one human streak about dreams,
probably because they see so much of human
beings—they’re very fond of being in the
society of rich people. Well, these four
dreams reached the sick-room together, with
distinct orders as to what to do and when to
do it; but what must each idiot do but insist
upon being first! The dream that was to
have begun the week was one of the new
Jerusalem ; ’twas really old Jerusalem after
a Sunday-school wall picture, but the sick
man didn’t know the difference ; this was to
operate while the minister was with him.

83
With the Dream-Maker

Then was to come a couple of lawyers, play-
ing ducks and drakes with his money in
court, while his relations were trying to
break the will; then there was a picture of
the man as he might have been if he had not
lost his soul through money-making, and,
lastly, there was an unpopular being with
hoofs, horns, forked tail and pitchfork.”

“Ugh!” shivered Phil.

“Quite so. But oh! the row those
dreams got into! They all crowded in at
once, Old Speartail insisting that he had a
special right to the man anyway. The law-
yers handled Jerusalem roughly, making dis-
solving views of the Temple, pocketing the
gold and silver candlesticks, and playing
smash generally, while the picture of the
man as he might have been got into a fight
with Old Speartail,and was promptly knocked
down and trampled upon. There’s no know-
ing what might have happened, had not the
doctor noticed a change for the better in the
invalid. Then the dreams started for home,
the lawyers arm in arm with Old Speartail,

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With the Dream-Maker

who had on one prong of his pitchfork the
picture of the man as he might have been,
and the three were roaring “We Won't Go
Home Till Morning,” while Jerusalem came
straggling back in about fifty pieces—I had
to double the repair-shop gang and work all
night to put that town together again. The
hardest work of all was to get back the gold
and silver things which the lawyers had stolen
from the Temple.”’

“What became of the millionaire?”

“Oh, the fuss did him good; he saw it
all, you know. He got well, joined the
church, died peaceably a year later and left
all his money to benevolent associations. I
got out the lawyers and Speartail and told
them about it, and for three months after-
ward those fellows were too sick to work—
Thad to duplicate them all.”

Phil’s head by this time was pretty well
stuffed with wonders, so he did not spend
much time marveling that the old man could
replace three sick persons, particularly when
one was a being whom he had always been

85
With the Dream-Maker

taught to consider the only one of his kind.
Besides, he had very little time for connected
thought ; dreams were coming and going,
messengers were continually asking ques-
tions of the manager, and calls from the
store-room were frequent. The old man,
too, in spite of the constant demands on his
time, found occasion to point out one unusual
thing after another to Phil, so that all the boy
could do was to keep his ears and eyes
open.

86
XXVI

UDDENLY, however, while Phil was bal-

ancing himself upon a broken moun-
_ tain peak considerately brought out for him
to sit upon and rest himself, there approached
him a group which he did not think could
possibly be a dream. It numbered forty or
fifty Asiatics, some upon elephants and some
upon camels; all were faultlessly dressed,
and had turbaned heads and jeweled swords.
Arrived at the entrance, the party halted
and dismounted at a signal from the leader ;
then all salaamed profoundly, and the leader
exclaimed: |

« Allah is great!”

Phil did not exactly understand this, so
he said :

“If you'll have the kindness to wait a
minute, J’ll call the proprietor.” Then he
ran into the store-room, found the manager
and exclaimed :

“If you please, sir, a circus has come!”

87
With the Dream-Maker

“Indeed!” said‘ the old man, moving
briskly towards the entrance. ‘Oh, that’s
no circus ; it’s a deputation from the Asiatic
establishment. I wonder what the great
original dream-maker wants to borrow?”

Phil was disappointed, for he greatly
enjoyed circuses, and his father seldom had
time to take him to one. He made the most
of his opportunities, however, by squeezing
well to one side, where he could get an
unobstructed view of the animals. Mean-
while the leader recognized the manager,
signaled his party to salaam again, and then
he repeated :

‘Allah is great!”

“Correct !” responded the manager.
‘Anything broke on the other side?”

The chief of the embassy replied by
drawing from his bosom a scroll, from which
he read as follows :

“The Great Original Dream-maker of the
Planet, the Pervador of the Night Season,
the Tormentor of the Wicked and the De-
lighter of, the good, the Fabricator of Mighty

88
With the Dream-Maker

Puzzles and Designer of Unparalleled Pict-
ures, the Subtlest of Mechanicians ”»—

‘‘Asia draws it pretty strong,” muttered
the old man to Phil; “but I’ll leave it to any
unprejudiced expert whether I’m not as smart
at the work-bench as he.”

The leader of the embassy, not noticing
this breach of diplomatic etiquette, had con-
tinued :

“The Worker by Starlight, who yet
Sleepeth not in the Daytime, the Arouser of
Consciences and the General Regulator of
Sleepers, sends greeting. unto his illustrious
younger brother, the Sole Arbiter of Dream-
fate in the New World, the Marvelous ”»—

“Cut the titles, so far as Iam concerned,”
interrupted the old man. “Titles don’t count
for anything in this country, except to silly
girls and hotel-keepers. Cut the titles and
come right down to business. No offence
meant, you know, but time is money over
here ; our dreamers Cy eee those among
your folks a hundred to one.’

‘As your Exalted Mightiness ee

89
With the Dream-Maker

answered the leader, handing the scroll to an
attendant. ‘Know then, that the Afghans
are about to slaughter the English Commis-
sioner, and my Illustrious Master would be
glad to experiment upon the Governor-Gen-
eral of India with the dream which you send
a Secretary of the Interior when the Indians
kill a peace commissioner.”

“He's quite welcome to it, and much
good may it do him. I’m sorry to say that
it hasn’t been particularly successful here,
but perhaps there isn’t a strong Afghan ring
around the Governor-General, to neutralize
a dream-maker’s best efforts. Ho !—inside
there !—dust off 86 and bring it out; fix it
up in shape for a foreign trip in distinguished
company. Make yourselves at home, won’t
you, gentlemen, for a moment or two?”

The Asiatics leisurely reclined upon the
floor in various postures; they had barely
composed themselves, when Phil shouted,
“Oh, there’s soldiers coming—there’s soldiers
coming |”

ge
XXVIT

HE old man shaded his eyes with one
hand, and finally said:

“T don’t wonder you thought so, little
chap, seeing how gorgeously they’re dressed,
but that is a party from the European estab-
lishment. They, too, want to borrow some-
thing, I suppose. I wonder what it can be?”

The party approached, bowed low to the
manager, recognized the Asiatic deputation,
who courteously arose and salaamed; then
a consequential-looking personage stepped
forward and said:

“T am commissioned by my most gra-
cious Sovereign to request of you, if it be
not inconsistent with your own require-
ments, the loan of the dream which you use
on the Secretary of the Interior when your
Indians slaughter peace commissioners.
The Afghans—’

The old man slapped his leg and ex-
claimed :

gi
With the Dream-Maker

«Well, I'll be—but I beg your pardon ;
you had not concluded.”

“The Afghans,” resumed the head of
the deputation, ‘‘are about to slaughter the
English Commissioner, and my Illustrious
Master would like to try the dream on the
British Cabinet.”

“Well, if here isn’t a go!” exclaimed
the old man. ‘Europe and Asia want to
borrow the same dream—and on the same
night, too! Really, gentlemen, I’m extremely
sorry to disappoint you, but that dream is
just being packed to go to Asia. I wish I
_ had a duplicate, but as we never have but
one Secretary of the Interior at a time, I’ve
not thought it worth while.”

The Europeans looked nettled, and the
Asiatics assumed an air of complacent supe-
riority that must have been ‘very irritating.
As both parties were armed with swords,
Phil feared that bloodshed might follow, but
suddenly the old man exclaimed:

“T have it! There’s about six hours
difference in time between India and Eng-

92






It’s as big as—why, there isn’t anything anywhere |—Page 93
With the Dream-Maker

land. Why can’t you gentlemen from Europe
wait until Asia is done with it, and still be in
time? ?”

This suggestion restored harmony, and
the two parties proceeded to fraternize, but
only for a moment, for the much-demanded
dream being brought out, the Asiatics pro-
ceeded at once to mount.

“You'll bring it back as soon as you’re
done with it, boys, won’t you?” said the old
man appealingly to the European delegation.
“T like to be obliging, but there’s no know-
ing how soon I may have to use the same
dream here; there are several railroad sur-
veying parties in the Indian reservations
now, and their teamsters are selling whiskey
to the savages. All ready? Well, day-day
—regards to your governors.”

“Did you ever in all your born days, see
an elephant as big as that biggest one?”
asked Phil. “It’s as big as—why, there isn’t
anything anywhere! Have all those people
and animals dropped into the ground?”

‘“‘Oh, no,” said the manager, “they’re in

93
With the Dream-Maker

Calcutta now, and much joy I wish His
Excellency of his dream ; it has made many
a Secretary of the Interior declare to his
wife that if he lived until morning he would
write his resignation the first thing. None
of them ever did it, though—not for that rea-
son. It’s dreadfully hard to make a dream
that will stay in a cabinet officer’s head after
he reaches his office. But hasn’t this been a
glorious night for America?—both Europe
and Asia sending over to borrow, and the
same dream, too?”

94
XXVIII

“ OM Dosser’s awfully drunk again,
sir,” reported a messenger.

“Ts that so?” asked the manager, with a
sad face anda groan. “Well, take him all
the snakes in the establishment.”

“T shouldn’t think you’d send snakes to
a poor man in trouble,” said Phil.

‘“‘I don’t send them,” said the old man, in
tones so loud that Phil unconsciously jumped.
“T don’t send them—he demands them.
Haven’t I told you, a dozen times, that peo-
ple’s actions determine what their dreams
shall be? This isn’ta sympathy shop—it’s
a Dream Bureau.”

“I beg your pardon, sir,” said Phil
meekly ; “I didn’t mean to do it.”

“I beg yours,” replied the manager,
kissing Phil’s forehead; ‘I shouldn’t have
spoken so sharply, but I have feelings, and
although I know that whatever I do is just,
it hurts one terribly to worry a man like Tom

95
With the Dream-Maker

Dosser. First he needed only one little,
wriggling garter snake, that couldn’t frighten
anybody very badly ; but I’ve had to increase
the size, number and variety until it’s a most
dreadful lot that the poor wretch will get
to-night. If hed only take the hint, how
happy his wife and children would be! I
wouldn’t show you that dream that Darkface
is taking to him—why, I wouldn’t do it for
a thousand years’ vacation!”

This remark made a tremendous impres-
sion on Phil, for the longest vacation of which
he knew included only eight weeks. The
idea of a vacation of a thousand years set
him to thinking anew about the age of the
manager, and then about his name, which Phil
determined to learn if possible. He thought
the present the best time to discover, too,
for there seemed a sudden lull in business,
But while he was trying to construct a neat
little speech, the old man yawned and
exclaimed :

“Yo, ho! let me see; it’s now about four
o’clock here, three at Chicago, two in the,»

96
With the Dream-Maker

mining territories and one at San Francisco.
This is what, in the dream business, you
might call ebb tide, for most dreaming is
done just after the people have gone to bed
or just before they wake up. San Francisco
has got soundly to sleep, New York hasn’t
begun to wake, and Chicago is about half
and half.”

“You forget the mining territories,” sug-
gested Phil, after a moment’s pause.

“Oh, those fellows? Bless you, they
never go to sleep at all—that is, any regular
hours. When they do slumber, though, I
have to make it lively for them. There’s
the Cripple Creek district, now—they struck
gold there a year or two ago; why, that
little bit of territory uses more improbable
dreams than all the rest of the United States.
Dreams are about all that most of those
mining men get, poor fellows.”

97
XXIX

rH the manager suddenly looked up-

ward and exclaimed, ‘‘What do you
find to laugh about so violently? Who are
you?”

“Please, sir,” said a voice in the air, and
so close that Phil jumped aside to keep from
being fallen upon, “I’m number 796.”.

“Qh, one of the fever set? Well, where
have you been?”

“To young Prettyman, sir ; he’s been to
so many drives, parties and all sorts of enter-
tainments, day and night, that he’s light-
headed and feverish for lack of sleep.”

“Well?”

“Why, sir, I made him dream that he
had hired a man to help him to sleep, and
the man disappeared and: young Prettyman
had to do all his own sleeping. But the joke
was that, when he awoke, the dream was
still in his head, and he abused his servant
for letting the man get away. Oh, dear !”

98
With the Dream-Maker

‘And you lingered behind to see the fun
instead of coming straight back—and this in
the fever season, too, when no one knows
how soon you might be needed! Will you
never grow old enough to be business-like in
your habits?”

“I hope so, sir,” replied the dream, in
tones of deepest humiliation, “but you must
remember that I’m rather young yet, and
can’t very well help laughing when there’s
anything to laugh at.”

‘““How old are you?” demanded the
manager.

“Only about fourteen hundred years,
sir,” answered the dream.

“You're old enough to have acquired
business habits, any way,” said the old man.
“You may go unpunished this time, but don’t
again come in laughing as if you would burst,
because if you do, all the dreams you meet will
want to stop and learn what’s the fun, anda
pretty mess that would make of the business
—thousands of people kept waiting for their
dreams. I won’t have it.”

99
With the Dream Make:

«Don’t you ever let them enjoy them-
selves at all?” asked Phil, as the reproved
dream retired meekly to its place.

“Bless you, yes,” replied the manager.
«None of them can say that I’m a hard mas-
ter. When they’re off duty they may have
all the fun they please, provided they don’t
get out of hearing distance. We've abund-
ant room here, and they may exercise in any
way they please—dance, run races, or do
anything else that doesn’t interfere with busi-
ness. Probably some of them are taking
their fun now; let’s go inside and see,”

100
XXX

HE couple returned to the store-room,

and Phil was rather disappointed at
finding the entire floor unoccupied. The
manager, however, walked: about, leading
Phil by the hand and dropping his own head
to one side, asif listening intently. Suddenly
he snapped his fingers, and a commotion was
noticeable at once overa portion of the floor ;
within two or three seconds Phil beheld the
oddest picture that had ever greeted his eyes.
Around a square package labeled “For
Disinterested Patriots; Nearly Obsolete,”
were gathered half a dozen dreams. Some
of them Phil. soon recognized. There
was the horse “ Favorite,”. who had been
bathed in humiliating tears a few moments
before ; now he was seated ona bit of broken
mountain peak, with one foot on the package
which served as table, and with a meerschaum
pipe in his mouth. The two-headed dog was
there, too, sitting on one .of his sides, and

1or
With the Dream-Maker

with both heads toward the centre. There
was also the old grandmother, who, for so
many centuries, had been the evening visitor
of overfed children of royal blood. Beside,
there was the cat with paws all over her ; she
stood, or rested, upon the tip of her tail, but
did not appear in the least uncomfortable,
perhaps, because the red-eyed elephant sat
beside her, with his trunk affectionately
thrown about her waist. The whole party
was in high glee, for on the centre of the
impromptu table, a cow, whom Phil remem-
bered to have seen and feared a hundred
times in his own bed, was dancing a High-
‘land fling with exquisite grace, and with a
countenance entirely unlike any that Phil had
ever seen her wear.

At the conclusion of the dance the cow
was helped down by the Favorite, and the
elephant gracefully bowed her into his own
chair, while the remainder of the party
applauded loudly with their various substi-
tutes for hands; at this. demonstration. the
cat was specially vigorous, her numerous

102
With the Dream-Maker

paws making up in appearance what they
lacked in sound. The danseuse arose and
blushingly bowed her acknowledgments, but
declined the honor of an encore. Then the
cat sang a serenade with much force and
feeling, after which there was instrumental
music bya quartet, conducted by the elephant,
who used his trunk as baton with imposing
effect. He afterwards rendered a trumpet
solo with great sonority, or more properly
speaking, he began one, for, the Joey Banks
dream being suddenly demanded by a breath-
less messenger, the elephant was obliged to
abruptly excuse himself and hurry off in
company with the two-headed dog and the
many-pawed cat to join the remainder of the
dream to which he belonged. The grand-
mother, the cow, and the Favorite, however,
formed quite a jolly party by themselves, so
Phil was not at all frightened when the man-
ager suggested that they too should join the
group. The dreams arose respectfully as
their master approached, but the old man
said quickly :

303
With the Dream-Maker

“Keep your seats, please; it does my
heart good to see you all so merry. I want
to introduce a pleasant little friend of mine
to such of you as may not already have met
him in the course of business.”

104
XXXI

‘T \HE Favorite hung his head, for he

remembered that he had been scolded
in Phil’s presence, but he had soon fought
down his embarrassment, and extended a fore-
foot to grasp Phil’s extended hand, while the
grandmother curtsied in the old-fashioned
though not ungraceful manner. As for the
cow, she hastily raised her eye-glasses, looked
Phil over, and exclaimed:

“Really, as sure as I’m a living night-
mare, it’s little Phil Fuzzytop! Dear me,
how things do come about! Really, you must
excuse me for not recognizing you at first,
but the truth is, you know, that I’ve always
heretofore seen you in your night-clothes, and
dress does make such a difference in one’s
appearance. Do sit down, right here beside
me, and let’s have a nice chat about old
times. Think how long and well we've
known one another, yet never exchanged a
word. Funny, isn’t it?”

Phil could not see that it was, and in spite

1 105
With the Dream-Maker

of the cow’s affability, he was firmly convinced
that of all brazen-faced creatures that cow
was the very worst. Ina second or two he
lost his temper and exclaimed :

‘What do you mean by saying we never
exchanged a word? Haven’t you often stood
on my stomach at night and said ‘Moo’?”

‘““*Moo’ can scarcely be called a word,”
replied the cow, with a painful tremor in her
voice.

“And haven't I begged you to go away?”
continued Phil, affecting not to have heard
the cow’s explanation.

The cow’s eyes filled with tears, and she
buried her face in a corner of the Favorite’s
blanket, while the manager whispered :

‘““You’ve hurt her feelings—dreadfully !”

“She hurt my stomach dreadfully,” re-
torted Phil, “when she stood upon it, and
she used to toss me with her horns, and she’s
frightened me nearly to death, many and
many’s the time.”

“She was only doing her duty, dear
little fellow,” exclaimed the manager. ln

105
With the Dream-Maker

her inmost heart, which is very tender, she
was greatly pained.”

“Then why did she come at all?”

“Because I sent her—because you de-
manded her. In other words, because, after
eating a hearty supper, you would persist in
lying on your back while falling asleep.
Have you forgotten all I’ve told you this
evening about the causes of dreams?”’

Phil was thoughtful a moment; then he
turned to the cow and manfully said :

“I’m very sorry, ma’am, that I hurt your
feelings. Ihope you will forgive me, but I
forsee really did.”

eine cow, who, in spite of her Business
was an amiable, sunny-hearted creature, who
never could be unhappy five minutes at a
time, dried her eyes and at once replied:

“Don’t mention it. I’m only too glad to
learn that you don’t hate me. Oh, dear me.
One has to do such dreadful things in busi-
ness sometimes, that often I'd give the whole
world, if I owned it, to be an ignorant little
calf again, just as I was when I came out of
the Ark.” 107
- XXXII

a HAT?’ exclaimed Phil. “You don’t
mean to say that you’re one of the
Ark animals—one of the real ones?”

“T wish I didn’t have to,” sighed the cow,
“for it discloses my age ; nevertheless, I can-
not tell a lie.”

‘Dear me. Where have you been, ever
since you landed ?”

“Well, I first spent some thousands of
years in sunny Asia, but the people over
there gradually became a very stolid lot, and
in their dreams needed cows who would paw
persons with their hoofs. Naturally, a cow
of my birth and breeding couldn’t think of
doing anything so rude, so I asked to be
transferred to the European department,
where the mere presence of a cow ina night-
mare commanded the respect of the younger
people. Later, I came over to America ; it
was thought that a change of air would
improve my voice, which had been greatly

. 108
With the Dream-Maker

worn by uttering ‘Moo’ in many different
languages. Iassure you that my services have
been required by many distinguished people
in their youthful period. To say nothing of
great Asiatics, there was Alexander the
Great, Julius Caesar, Kings Arthur, Canute,
Alfred, the Emperor Barbarossa, Napoleon
Bonaparte, George Washington, —

The grandmother raised her eyes jeal-
ously as she heard these distinguished per-
sons named, and she interrupted, with her
thin but shrill voice, to remark:

“T’ve cared for as many children of first
families as you.”

‘“T don’t doubt it, madam,” replied the
cow, with the deferential manner which is
due to old age.

“Twice as many,” continued the grand-
mother,

This assertion seemed so unfair that the
cow thought it only just to remonstrate.

‘Really, my dear madam,” she began,
when the grandmother again interrupted,
with :

109
With the Dream-Maker

“A hundred times as many!”

To have endured this would be to. have
abandoned self-respect, so the cow arose,
threw her train—that is, her tail, over one
arm, took Phil’s arm with her remaining fore-
foot, and walked away in the most dignified
manner possible to a high-born cow, while
the grandmother shook her staff at her and
shouted :

“A thousand times as many !”

IIo
XXXITI

Ce ae UT—tut,” exclaimed the manager,
who had been questioning a mes-
senger. ‘“ Each of you ladies has all the work
and consideration to which you are entitled.
Why should you be jealous and quarrel ?”

The grandmother began to explain, but
the manager made an excuse to hurry away,
taking Phil with him.

‘“‘Now would be as good a time as any to
examine those Columbus dreams,” suggested
the old man.

“Oh, good!” exclaimed Phil. Just then,
however, he thought to ask a question which
had been in his mind for some time, so he
said :

‘“Won’t you please give me some very
nice dreams to carry home to my mamma?”

“T imagine.she will enjoy a kiss from her
boy more than if it were the finest dream that
this establishment ever turned out. But—
bless us! ’Tis broad daylight !”

Ill
With the Dream Maker

Phil rubbed his eyes and looked about.
The sun was shining brightly, and he was in
bed, and his’ mother was bending over him,
waiting for her morning kiss, which Phil
sprang up to give her. But, as the little
chap got out of bed, he muttered to
himself :

“T didn’t see those Columbus dreams,
after all, and—oh, dear me—what was the
manager’s name, and how old was he 2?”

[ FINIs. |
2D


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xml record header identifier oai:www.uflib.ufl.edu.ufdc:UF0008727700001datestamp 2008-10-16setSpec [UFDC_OAI_SET]metadata oai_dc:dc xmlns:oai_dc http:www.openarchives.orgOAI2.0oai_dc xmlns:dc http:purl.orgdcelements1.1 xmlns:xsi http:www.w3.org2001XMLSchema-instance xsi:schemaLocation http:www.openarchives.orgOAI2.0oai_dc.xsd dc:title With the dream-makerdc:creator Habberton, John, 1842-1921Claghorn, J. C. ( Illustrator )dc:subject Children -- Juvenile fiction. -- Conduct of lifeConduct of life -- Juvenile fiction.Dreams -- Juvenile fiction.Bldn -- 1898.dc:publisher George W. Jacobs & Co.,dc:date 1898.dc:type Bookdc:format 112 p., 5 leaves of plates : ill. ; 20 cm.dc:identifier http://www.uflib.ufl.edu/ufdc/?b=UF00087277&v=00001002230986 (ALEPH)51397383 (OCLC)ALH1353 (NOTIS)dc:source University of Floridadc:language English