of the
million of ephemera which in a single drop were thrown up to a height,
that was as great doubtless for their size, as for us if we were to
be hurled above the clouds. While he thought of this and of the whole
metamorphosis he had undergone, he smiled and said, "I sleep and dream;
but it is wonderful how one can dream so naturally, and know besides so
exactly that it is but a dream. If only to-morrow on awaking, I could
again call all to mind so vividly! I seem in unusually good spirits; my
perception of things is clear, I feel as light and cheerful as though
I were in heaven; but I know for a certainty, that if to-morrow a dim
remembrance of it should swim before my mind, it will then seem nothing
but stupid nonsense, as I have often experienced already--especially
before I enlisted under the banner of the police, for that dispels like
a whirlwind all the visions of an unfettered imagination. All we hear
or say in a dream that is fair and beautiful is like the gold of the
subterranean spirits; it is rich and splendid when it is given us, but
viewed by daylight we find only withered leaves. Alas!" he sighed quite
sorrowful, and gazed at the chirping birds that hopped contentedly from
branch to branch, "they are much better off than I! To fly must be a
heavenly art; and happy do I prize that creature in which it is innate.
Yes! Could I exchange my nature with any other creature, I fain would be
such a happy little lark!"

He had hardly uttered these hasty words when the skirts and sleeves
of his coat folded themselves together into wings; the clothes became
feathers, and the galoshes claws. He observed it perfectly, and laughed
in his heart. "Now then, there is no doubt that I am dreaming; but I
never before was aware of such mad freaks as these." And up he flew into
the green roof and sang; but in the song there was no poetry, for the
spirit of the poet was gone. The Shoes, as is the case with anybody who
does what he has to do properly, could only attend to one thing at a
time. He wanted to be a poet, and he was one; he now wished to be a
merry chirping bird: but when he was metamorphosed into one, the former
peculiarities ceased immediately. "It is really pleasant enough," said
he: "the whole day long I sit in the office amid the driest
law-papers, and at night I fly in my dream as a lark in the gardens of
Fredericksburg; one might really write a very pretty comedy upon it." He
now fluttered down into the grass