ong jaw.

"I believe that dreams are not very well understood, even by the
wisest," he said. "Do me the kindness to confess that your present
experience, if a dream, is more wonderful than any other dream you
have had."

Though my head was dizzy, I thought I could detect a slight tinge of
irony in this excessively polite speech.

"I think it must be," I replied; "although I cannot remember any other
dream."

"Then, might not one say that the only dream you are conscious of is not
a dream?"

"That contradicts itself," said I.

"And you find yourself unable to accept the word of three men that you
are not dreaming?"

"Not if they are men of my dream," said I.

"A good retort, sir," he said. "Do me the kindness to tell me your
notion of a dream. Do you think it should be consistent throughout, or
should there be strong intrinsic proof of its own unrealness?"

"Captain," I said, "I cannot tell. I know nothing. I doubt my own
existence."

"Pardon me," said he; "you know the test--you think, therefore you
exist. Are you not sure that you think?"

"I think, or I dream that I think."

"Well said, sir; an excellent reasoner while dreaming. But suppose you
dream on; what will be the result?"

"Dream and sleep till I awake," said I.

"May I ask where you will awake?"

"In Aiken."

"I know a little of Aiken," said the Captain; "I was there not a year
ago."

Naturally the remark was of interest to me.

"When was it?" I asked.

"It was in August, of last year. You remember, Frank, I was recruiting
for the reorganized First."

"August of what year?" I asked.

"August eighteen sixty-one, very naturally."

"Gentlemen," said I, "bear with me, I beg you. I am not myself. I am
going through deep waters, I know nothing."

"We know," said the doctor; "and we are going to see you through." Then
he added: "Captain Haskell came from Abbeville. He has men in his
company from several of the districts; possibly some of them would know
you, and you might know them."

I did not want to know them. I said nothing. The doctor's suggestion was
not to my liking. Why should I join these men? What, to me, was this
captain? What was I to him? So far as I know, I had no interest in this
war. So far as I could know myself, my tastes did not seem to set
strongly in the direction of soldiering. Those men could get along
without my help. Why could I not find a different occupation? Anything
would be better than getting killed i