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"Dreams are but Dreams..."

The grey gloom of an autumn twilight was gathering slowly, wrapping the hills in its soft folds and touching the world with fairy fingers. The rugged steeps and the scarred valleys lost their sharp outlines, and became merged into the grey dimness. It was the enchanted hour when the magician waves his wand, and mortals for a while forget their cares. It was the dream-hour.

The silence of the Common Room but deepened the spell. Recumbent forms, motionless, occupied dim nooks. Once more my eyes sought the Great Beyond. The Dream-man took me by the hand.

Through wondrous ways he led me, nor paused until at length we reached the foot of a high hill. There, far up upon its verdant slopes, I spied a wondrous castle—strange, and yet familiar. I longed to reach it, but how attain to those far heights? True, a road wound upwards to it, but the way was steep and long. Then opened in the hillside a cavern full of light. I stepped within and found a room, snug and gay. A door closed. I sated myself, and found a room, snug and gay. A door closed. I seated myself, and found that I was swiftly moving upwards. A lift by Jupiter!

In the twinkling of an eye the goal was reached. The place I sought was here, before my eyes. Strange I should think I had been here before, and yet, and yet . . .

What legend burned so brightly over the portals ? "Wisdom is more than gold!" Sadly I turned away. Alas, I knew that I had but little wisdom to offer at the shrine of the deity who might inhabit these bright walls. But hark! What sounds of revelry were those which smote my ear? "Wikitoria Ha!" Fascinated, I drew near to a door at the north end of the great building, and entered. A corridor led past the banqueting hall, from whence issued the sounds of merriment and feasting. An attendant, gorgeously and wonderfully attired, sprang to view. I followed to a large, well-lighted room. Row upon serried row of hat-pegs stood out from the walls. Row upon row of hats hung there, while well-ordered space invited yet more. A large table occupied the centre of the room. Ranged in neat order stood the property of the heedless hundreds, and yet there was room for more!

And now the mirth rose higher. I followed to the doors of the banqueting hall. They swung wide to receive me. What a scene of revelry met my bedazzled eyes! It almost seemed as if—"Wellington's capital had gathered then, her beauty and her chivalry, and bright the light shone o'er fair women and brave men."

Every nook was aglow with radiance. From the tables the scintillations of crystal and silver added their charm. Slipping into a vacant place, I watched the gay throng. Many danced on the polished floor to the subdued strains of an orchestra. Others refreshed themselves at the laden boards. Waiters dashed hither and thither with laden trays, returning ever and anon to dwell upon the words of the presiding genius. A sweet girl near me page 37 pointed out some notables in our vicinity. "The tall distingue on your right—whispering sweet nothings in his partner's ear—he's keen on dates. History is his forte. Ahead of him is the Economics Oracle." I stared. "Oh, he dances perfectly," she smiled. "He waxes eloquent upon golf, too."

And so on, ad lib. I gathered that within these walls there reigned a Professorial Board. Its special care and pride were its students. These they loved to cherish and to cheer. The Board had instituted dancing in the tea-room in the hopes that it might banish the blight of study which threatened to extinguish these young lives.

While we talked, swift hands set before us viands which would have satisfied an epicure or good Haroun Al Raschid himself. Around us the merry chatter mingled with the music's swell.

At length I tore myself away from the gay scene. A short Might of steps led me into a long corridor, thickly carpeted. Then up a disjointed Might of stairs and along another silent corridor I went, until another hall was reached. Through doors of purest crystal I espied an honourable dignity who moved with stealthy tread among his books. Other movement there was none. Seated in deep chairs were rows of seemingly petrified humans. Each face wore an aspect of deep oblivion.

Drawing a deep breath, I entered. The deep silence of the place wrapped me like a garment, and yielding to its charm I sought the nearest resting-place. It seemed I had not known till then how blissful rest could be. The seductive comfort of the chair had almost proved too much in that languorous atmosphere, when the gentle clasp of Morpheus was loosed by honeyed tones. Before me stood the Warder, in silken robes and tasseled skullcap. He placed a pile of books in front of me. "Choose which you will," he said. "I am at your service." Bowing low, he withdrew to his bookshelves again. A glance revealed a feast of fiction—Galsworthy, Shaw, Arnold Bennett, Wells—the best of the moderns—and, besides, the half a dozen pleasant trivialities one longs to read. The book-shelves revealed unending hoards of like treasure, mingled with Muff from lighter minds. With a sigh of rapture——

A dazzling brightness filled my eyes. Strident voices reached me. The Common Room pulsed with life. I awoke to the hard facts of life, and Med to a near-by lecture-room lest the voice of the Prof, be already heard in the land, and the wrath which falls upon the late-comer completely overwhelm me.

—S.C.H.