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as far as regarded time, and could wake almost at any hour he desired. Then he took a forward step. While playing with his birds he said, “Tonight I will dream of you.' But the thought intervened that he had often dreamt of the birds, and that to dream of them that night would not be very remarkable. So he said, “No, I will not dream of the birds that are living ; I will dream of Golden Cloud.' It was a long time now since Golden Cloud had been buried, but Dan had never forgotten his pet. When he went to bed he said, 'I will dream of Golden Cloud-a pleasant dream.' And he dwelt upon his wish, and expressed it in words, again and again. That night he dreamt of Golden Cloud, and of its pretty tricks ; of its growing old and shaky; of its death and burial. Then he saw something that he had never seen before. He saw it lying quite contented and happy at the bottom of its flower-pot coffin, and when he chirruped to it, it chirruped in return.

He told his dream to Joshua.

'I have dreamt of Golden Cloud a good many times,' said Joshua.

‘But I made up my mind especially to dream of Golden Cloud,' said Dan, and I dreamt of it

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the same night. At other times, my dreaming of it was not premeditated. It came in the usual way of dreams.'

• What do you want me to believe from all this, Dan ?

• That, as the author of that book says, you can dream of anything you wish. I scarcely dare believe that I shall be able to dream of what I shall most desire, by and by. By and by, Jo,' he repeated sadly, 'when you and me are parted.'

Joshua threw his arm round Dan's neck.

And you are doing all this, dear Dan, because you want to dream of me?'

• And because I want to be with you, Jo, and to see things that you see, and never, never to be parted from you. The wistful tears ran down Dan's cheek as he said these words.

'It would be very wonderful,' said Joshua ; ' almost too wonderful. And I shall think, “Dan

· is here with me, although I cannot see him.":

‘Listen again to what he says, Jo,' said Dan, opening the Triumph of Mind over Matter. ""A person can so command and control his mental forces as to train himself to dream of events that are actually taking place at a distance from him, at the precise moment they occur.

* And that is what you want to do when I am

away, Dan.'

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. That is what I want to do when you are away, dear Jo.'

'I am positive you can't do it.'

• Why? I dreamt of Golden Cloud when I wanted to.' 'I can understand that.

But how did you dream of Golden Cloud, Dan? You dreamt of him as if he was alive

At first I did; but afterwards I saw him in the flower-pot, dead.'

· And Golden Cloud chirruped to you.'
Yes, Jo.

* Think again, Dan. Golden Cloud was dead, and Golden Cloud chirruped to you !

• Yes, Jo,' faltered Dan, beginning to understand the drift of Joshua's remarks.

That is not dreaming of things as they are, Dan,' said Joshua gently, taking Dan's hand and patting it. 'If you could dream of Golden Cloud as he is now, you would see nothing of him but a few bones — feathers and flesh all turned to clay. Not a chirrup in him, Dan dear, not a chirrup !'

Dan covered his eyes with his hand, and the

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tears came through his fingers. But he soon recovered himself.

* You are right, Jo,' he said: 'yet I'm not quite wrong.

The man who wrote that book knew things, depend upon it. He was not a fool. I was, to think I could do such wonders in so short a time.'

Dan showed, in the last sentence, that he did not intend to relinquish his desire. He said nothing more about it, however, and in a few minutes the pair of bullfinches were on the table in a little cage, whistling, 'Rule, Britannia,' the high notes of which one of the birds took with consummate

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ease.

CHAPTER V.

JOSHUA MAKES UP HIS MIND TO GO TO SEA.

Who was the Old Sailor ?

Simply, an old sailor. Having been a very young sailor indeed once upon a time, a great many years ago now, when, quite a little boy, he ran away from home and went to sea out of sheer love for blue water. In those times many boys did just the same thing, but that kind of boyish romance has been gradually dying away, and is now almost dead. Steam has washed off a great deal of its bright colouring. The taste of the salt spray grew so sweet to the young sailor's mouth, and the sight of the ocean—the waters of which were not always blue, as he had imagined-grew so dear to his eyes, that everything else became as naught to him. And so, faithful to his first love, he had grown from a young sailor to an old sailor. At the present time he was living in a rusty coal-barge, moored near the Tower-stairs ; and, although he could see land and houses on

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