I saw, in the newspaper, that the American Tract Society boasted of
their agents' having exchanged, at a Western cabin door, tracts for the
Devil on Two Sticks, and then burnt that more entertaining than edifying
volume. No wonder, though, they study it there. Could one but have the
gift of reading the dreams dreamed by men of such various birth, various
history, various mind, it would afford much more extensive amusement
than did the chambers of one Spanish city!
Could I but have flown at night through such mental experiences, instead
of being shut up in my little bedroom at the Milwaukie boarding house,
this chapter would have been worth reading. As it is, let us hasten to a
close.
Had I been rich in money, I might have built a house, or set up in
business, during my fortnight's stay at Milwaukie, matters move on there
at so rapid a rate. But, being only rich in curiosity, I was obliged to
walk the streets and pick up what I could in casual intercourse. When I
left the street, indeed, and walked on the bluffs, or sat beside the
lake in their shadow, my mind was rich in dreams congenial to the scene,
some time to be realized, though not by me.
A boat was left, keel up, half on the sand, half in the water, swaying
with each swell of the lake. It gave a picturesque grace to that part of
the shore, as the only image of inaction--only object of a pensive
character to be seen. Near this I sat, to dream my dreams and watch the
colors of the Jake, changing hourly, till the sun sank.
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