ght have mistaken him for the genius of famine descending
upon the earth, or some scarecrow eloped from a cornfield."

The following is from "The House of Usher:"--

"Shaking off from my spirit what _must_ have been a dream, I
scanned more narrowly the real aspect of the building. Its
principal feature seemed to be that of an excessive
antiquity. The discoloration of ages had been great. Minute
fungi overspread the whole exterior, hanging in a fine
tangled web-work from the eaves. Yet all this was apart from
any extraordinary dilapidation. No portion of the masonry
had fallen, and there appeared to be a wild inconsistency
between its still perfect adaptation of parts and the
crumbling condition of the individual stones. In this there
was much that reminded me of the specious totality of old
woodwork which has rotted for long years in some neglected
vault with no disturbance from the breath of the external
air. Beyond this indication of extensive decay, however, the
fabric gave little token of instability. Perhaps the eye of
a scrutinizing observer might have discovered a barely
perceptible fissure, which, extending from the roof of the
building in front, made its way down the wall in a zigzag
direction, until it became lost in the sullen waters of the
tarn."

In this every detail emphasizes the "excessive antiquity" of the
house; and on reading the story there is no question of the importance
of the "barely perceptible fissure." Thereby hangs the tale.

The two following are descriptions of dawn, of change; they have
marked climaxes. The first is by Edward Everett, the second by
Stevenson. The similarity in choice of words and in the feelings of
the men is remarkable.

"Such was the glorious spectacle as I entered the train. As
we proceeded, the timid approach of twilight became more
perceptible; the intense blue of the sky began to soften;
the smaller stars, like little children, went first to rest;
the sister-beams of the Pleiades soon melted together; but
the bright constellations of the west and north remained
unchanged. Steadily the wondrous transfiguration went on.
Hands of angels, hidden from mortal eyes, shifted the
scenery of the heavens; the glories of night dissolved into
the glories of dawn. The blue sky now turned more softly
gray; the great