Dream dictionary: poke dream meanings

…if she weighed each syllable in her mind very carefully before she spoke, ” I have heard of you from the Rev. Mr. Towell.” At the mention of the name of the chaplain at Dartmoor, Lil — you know the fellow who laid it on so thick when I was doing time there, three years ago last May — at the mention of his name, Lil, I jumped as if I had been shot.”Then you’re a lady missionary, are you?” I said, with a scowl. ”If that’s your game, all I can say is that you’ve come to the wrong shop. I don’t cotton to prigs of that kidney.”” I spoke so savage, Lil, that the lady shook all over, and I saw her eyes flash round the room as if seeking the quickest avenue of escape. Then she suddenly grew calm, and, lifting her veil, stared me straight in…

…anything so very out of the way in my choice of costume.Indeed, I stammered, “I think it most ordinary.” “Altogether too ordinary! Too infernally ordinary!” thundered my host. “Look at yourself in that glass!” and he pointed to a huge mirror as he spoke. Then my blood turned to ice. I had — yes, I had come as Adam — Adam before the fall! “Chase him!” shrieked my host, “Chase the insolent wretch, and when you catch him, skin him alive! Hardly were the words,” out of his mouth before the guests and musicians, armed with chairs, fans, and violins, rushed, shrieking and yelling, at me; but, happily for me, I was still some few feet ahead of my pursuers, when I awoke.On another occasion, I dreamed I was handing round the bag in some fashionable church, when all the men suddenly turned round and scowled at me, and the…

…hovered the form of death.”Art thou satisfied?” asked my tormentor, ”satisfied, or wouldst thou see more of the days to come? Destiny, Destiny, Destiny! It rules the world, from the infant’s cradle to the roar of the guns or — a watery grave. And thou hast seen Destiny. Wake and regard it as fancy if thou wilt. Stifle it, bury it, and drown it. Thou hast seen what thou hast seen, and — it is Destiny!”The creature’s voice rose higher and higher, then dropped, and dropped, till it died out altogether.And as it died out, the horrid phantom vanished, and, in its place, rose a mass of red and curling flames, that in letters of fire wrote, in mid-air:”Art thou going to the zone arty?”A reply rose irresistibly to my lips.”Here eight hours chime,” I said, like one repeating a parrot lesson. And, as I spoke, I felt my despised…