I’m Looking For Black Pot In Dream

…a good deal too solid for me, but which she ate as only a girl in her station can eat; whilst I, looking on, watched the colour slowly creep back to her ashen cheeks, and the raindrops rise in minute vapour clouds from her skirt and boots.” Now,” she said, as she drained the last drop of coffee from her cup, and shook her head when I asked her if she would have any more, ”now, you’ve kept your bargain and I’ll keep mine. You asked me to tell you about him, and so I will. To begin with, by him I mean Jim Bailey my young man Jim. But, of course, I suppose you’ve guessed that. Journalists know a thing or two at least, so I’ve always understood. Well, in speaking of Jim I’m not going to beat about the bush; hat wasn’t his wish not…

…the earnestness with which he pleaded, flung him on the floor, and would have stabbed him, had not the room suddenly become pitch dark, and a loud and hollow voice uttered these words: “Fool! Thou hast murdered thine own soul! Know thy hell!” Something then struck me heavily on the forehead, I lost consciousness, and on recovering, found myself in a huge kitchen garden.A spade was in my hand, and I was digging for potatoes. The sun was so tremendously hot; my back and arms ached cruelly; and I was desperately thirsty. “Curse it!” I said to myself. “I have had enough of it! The old lady may go without her dinner for all I care! I am not going to wear myself to pieces and get sunstroke for her!’ Then I dashed my spade to the ground, and, looking round, espied a pool of clear water. Revelling in the…