eize the fact, I couldn't grasp the truth that all this was really
occurring and that it wasn't just a play, a pretence, or a dream...
yes, a dream... especially a dream... perhaps, after all, that was
what it was. The Circular Hall was piled high with machine-guns, bags of
flour, and provisions of all kinds. There were some armed soldiers of
course and women, and beside the machine guns the floor was strewn with
cigarette ends and empty tins and papers and bags and cardboard boxes
and even broken bottles. Dirt and Desolation! I remember that it was
then when I looked at that floor that the first little suspicion stole
into my heart--not a suspicion so much as an uneasiness. I wanted at
once myself to set to work to clean up all the mess with my own hands.

"I didn't like to see it there, and no one caring whether it were there
or no.

"In the Catherine Hall into which I peered there was a vast mob, and
this huge mass of men stirred and coiled and uncoiled like some huge
ant-heap. Many of them, as I watched, suddenly turned into the outer
hall. Men jumped on to chairs and boxes and balustrades, and soon, all
over the place there were speakers, some shouting, some shrieking, some
with tears rolling down their cheeks, some swearing, some whispering as
though to themselves... and all the regiments came pouring in from the
station, tumbling in like puppies or babies with pieces of red cloth
tied to their rifles, some singing, some laughing, some dumb with
amazement... thicker and thicker and thicker... standing round the
speakers with their mouths open and their eyes wide, pushing and
jostling, but good-naturedly, like young dogs.

"Everywhere, you know, men were forming committees, committees for
social right, for a just Peace, for Women's Suffrage, for Finnish
Independence, for literature and the arts, for the better treatment of
prostitutes, for education, for the just division of the land. I had
crept into my corner, and soon as the soldiers came thicker and thicker,
the noise grew more and more deafening, the dust floated in hazy clouds.
The men had their kettles and they boiled tea, squatting down there,
sometimes little processions pushed their way through, soldiers shouting
and laughing with some white-faced policeman in their midst. Once I saw
an old man, his Shuba about his ears, stumbling with his eyes wide open,
and staring as though he were sleep-walking. That was Stuermer being
brought to judgement. Once I s