more than that of any. Often when he was
lying as he was now, under green trees, beneath blue skies, he would
see the most beautiful pictures before his eyes. Sometimes they were
the clouds that drew them for him, and sometimes the trees. He would,
perhaps, be feeling particularly forlorn and tired, and would fling
himself down to rest, and then in a moment--just for all the world as
though the skies were sorry for him and wanted to help him forget his
troubles--he would see the white drifts overhead shift and change, and
there would be the vision of a magnificent man larger and more
beautiful than any mortal; and then Larry would hold his breath in
ecstasy, while the man's face grew graver and darker, and his strong
arm seemed to lift and beckon to something from afar, and then from out
a great stack of clouds would break one milk-white one which, when
Larry looked closer, would prove to be a colossal steed; and in an
instant, in the most remarkable way, the form of the man would be
mounted upon the back of the courser and then would be speeding off
toward the west. And then Larry would lose sight of them, just at the
very moment when he would have given worlds to see more; for by this
time the skies would have grown black, perhaps, and down would come the
rain in perfect torrents, sending Larry to his feet and scuttling off
into somebody's area-way for shelter. And there he would crouch and
think about his vision, fancying to himself his great warrior doing
battle with the sea; the sea lashing up its wave-horses till they rose
high upon their haunches, their gray backs curving outward, their foamy
manes a-quiver, their white forelegs madly pawing the air, till with a
wild whinny they would plunge headlong upon the beach, to be pierced by
the thousand rain-arrows the cloud-god sent swirling down from above,
and sink backward faint and trembling to be overtaken and trampled out
of sight by the next frenzied column behind.

Oh! it sent Larry's blood tingling through his veins to see it all so
plainly; and he did not feel the chill of his wet rags about him, nor
the clutch of hunger in his poor, empty stomach, when the Spirit of the
Storm rode out, before his very eyes, to wage his mighty war. And then
at other times it would all be quite different, and he would see the
figures of beautiful maidens in gossamer garments, and they would seem
to be at play, flinging flecks of sunlight this way and that, or
winding and