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Blackwood, Algernon, 1869-1951

"A Prisoner in Fairyland"

'I've only
just fallen asleep, it seems.' She glanced at her watch upon the chair
beside the bed, saw that it was only four o'clock, and then turned
over, making a space for the cat behind her shoulder. A tremendous
host of dreams caught at her sliding mind. She tried to follow them.
They vanished. 'Oh dear!' she sighed, and promptly fell asleep again.
But this time she slept lightly. No more adventures came. She did not
dream. And later, when Riquette woke her a second time because it was
half-past six, she remembered as little of having been 'out' as though
such a thing had never taken place at all.
She lit the fire and put the porridge saucepan on the stove. It was a
glorious July morning. She felt glad to be alive, and full of happy,
singing thoughts. 'I wish I could always sleep like that!' she said.
'But what a pity one has to wake up in the end!'
And then, as she turned her mind toward the coming duties of the day,
another thought came to her. It was a very ordinary, almost a daily
thought, but there seemed more behind it than usual. Her whole heart
was in it this time--
'As soon as the children are off to school I'll pop over to mother,
and see if I can't cheer her up a bit and make her feel more happy. Oh
dear!' she added, 'life is a bag of duties, whichever way one looks at
it!' But she felt a great power in her that she could face them easily
and turn each one into joy.


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