t horror, when I heard him not only come up
the stairs, but violently force open my father's room-door and enter.
Sometimes he staid away for a long period, but oftener his visits were
in close succession. This lasted for years, and I could not accustom
myself to the terrible goblin; the image of the dreadful Sandman did
not become more faint. His intercourse with my father began more and
more to occupy my fancy. An unconquerable fear prevented me from
asking my father about it, but if I--I myself could penetrate the
mystery, and behold the wondrous Sandman--that was the wish which grew
upon me with years. The Sandman had brought me into the path of the
marvellous and wonderful, which so readily finds a domicile in the mind
of a child. Nothing was to me more delightful than to read or hear
horrible stories of goblins, witches, pigmies, &c.; but above them all
stood the Sandman, whom, in the oddest and most frightful shapes, I was
always drawing with chalk or charcoal on the tables, cupboards, and
walls. When I was ten years old, my mother removed me from the
children's room into a little chamber, situated in a corridor near my
father's room. Still, as before, we were obliged speedily to take our
departure as soon as, on the stroke of nine, the unknown was heard in
the house. I could hear in my little chamber how he entered my
father's room, and then it soon appeared to me that a thin vapor of a
singular odor diffused itself about the house. Stronger and stronger
with my curiosity grew my resolution to form in some manner the
Sandman's acquaintance. Often I sneaked from my room to the corridor,
when my mother had passed, but never could I discover any thing, for
the Sandman had always gone in at the door when I reached the place
where I might have seen him. At last, urged by an irresistible
impulse, I resolved to hide myself in my father's room and await the
appearance of the Sandman.

By the silence of my father, and the melancholy of my mother, I
perceived one evening that the Sandman was coming. I, therefore,
feigned great weariness, left the room before nine o'clock, and hid
myself in a corner close to the door. The house-door creaked, and the
heavy, slow, groaning step went through the passage and towards the
stairs. My mother passed me with the rest of the children.
Softly--very softly, I opened the door of my father's room. He sat as
usually, stiff and silent, with his back turned to the door. He d