“Ah!” I cried, “pure spirit of my sister, do I indeed behold you, my sister?” She came, and our hearts were filled with a sacred joy, for she knew me and loved me still.
She had not changed; yet she seemed brighter, whiter, more beautiful, and as I looked, her beauty, like the beauty of a great painting, only increased. “Ah! my well-beloved and long-lost sister, this is indeed a joyous meeting. When I heard of your death the pain preyed upon me, and I soon followed you, for grief broke my heart.” Who dares to disbelieve in happiness? Alas! is it not a dream?
XV.
Alas! it was a dream. . . .
But why awake from such a dream? This dream that had carried me through space and filled me with unmixed joy, had been of so short duration that I awoke to find nothing had changed on earth. The moon still shone in the clear sky. Nothing, indeed, proved real save the bird of prey circling through the air near my nest.
NOTES ON THE LIFE OF THE AUTHOR OF THIS CURIOUS FRAGMENT.
We deem it our duty to place before our readers some biographical details concerning the author of the foregoing fragment, handed to us by the governor of a lunatic asylum.
“The author of these strange imaginings was early left an orphan. His parents without warning, without even leaving their future address, left him one morning while his young beak was deep in slumber, buried in his callow down. Yet these good birds, owing to the gentleness and simplicity of their habits, left a doubtful reputation behind them, the only inheritance of our young hero. A sympathetic circle of friends agreed that they had come to an untimely end, nothing short of death could have caused them to abandon their child. One or two old Magpies there were, who, putting their heads together, whispered among themselves that Parisian Doves were not so good as they looked, and that they had purposely deserted the youngster, who interfered with the pursuit of their own pleasure.
“Be that as it may, the parents were never again seen or heard of, and the little one struggled on wonderfully, being greatly indebted to the good offices of some poor but true-hearted thrifty friends. As soon as the orphan could leave the deserted home and trust himself to his wings, he commenced a search which only ended in disappointment, for the lost ones were nowhere to be found. For all that, day after day he persevered in his vain efforts, saying, ‘I must find my parents, or perish in the attempt!’