Дні мрій

           Everythingthatusuallyscurried,hopped,orfluttered—thesmallsocietyoftheundergrowth—seemedtohaveengagementselsewhere.Thehorridthoughtthatperhapstheyhadallgoneofftothecircusoccurredtoussimultaneously,andwehumpedourselvesuponthefenceandfeltbad.Eventhesoundofapproachingwheelsfailedtostiranyinterestinus.Whenyouarebentonthrowingstonesatsomething,humanityseemsobtrusiveandbetteraway.Thensuddenlywebothjumpedoffthefencetogether,ourfacesclearing.Foroureducatedearhadtoldusthattheapproachingrattlecouldonlyproceedfromadog-cart,andwefeltsureitmustbethefunnyman.

           Wecalledhimthefunnymanbecausehewassadandserious,andsaidlittle,butgazedrightintooursouls,andmadeustellhimjustwhatwasonourmindsatthetime,andthencameoutwithsomemagnificentlyluminoussuggestionthatclearedeverycloudaway.Whatwasmorehewouldthengooffwithusatonceandplaythethingrightouttoitsfinish,earnestlyanddevotedly,puttingallotherthingsaside.Sowecalledhimthefunnyman,meaningonlythathewasdifferentfromthoseotherswhothoughtitincumbentonthemtoplaythepainfulmummer.Theidealasopposedtotherealmanwaswhatwemeant,onlywewerenotacquaintedwiththephrase.Thoseothers,withtheirlabouredjestsandclumsycontortions,doubtlessflatteredthemselvesthatTHEYwerefunnymen;we,whohadtositthroughandapplaudthepainfulperformance,knewbetter.