Page 403 - The Story of My Lif

You forget that death comes to the rich and the poor alike, and comes once for

all; but remember, Acheron could not be bribed by gold to ferry the crafty
Prometheus back to the sunlit world.

Tantalus, too, great as he was above all mortals, went down to the kingdom of

the dead, never to return. Remember, too, that, although death is inexorable, yet
he is just; for he brings retribution to the rich for their wickedness, and gives the
poor eternal rest from their toil and sorrow.

Ah, the pranks that the nixies of Dreamland play on us while we sleep! Methinks
“they are jesters at the Court of Heaven.” They frequently take the shape of daily

themes to mock me; they strut about on the stage of Sleep like foolish virgins,
only they carry well-trimmed note-books in their hands instead of empty lamps.
At other times they examine and cross-examine me in all the studies I have ever
had, and invariably ask me questions as easy to answer as this: “What was the
name of the first mouse that worried Hippopotamus, satrap of Cambridge under
Astyagas, grandfather of Cyrus the Great?” I wake terror-stricken with the words
ringing in my ears, “An answer or your life!”

Such are the distorted fancies that flit through the mind of one who is at college
and lives as I do in an atmosphere of ideas, conceptions and half-thoughts, half-
feelings which tumble and jostle each other until one is almost crazy. I rarely
have dreams that are not in keeping with what I really think and feel, but one
night my very nature seemed to change, and I stood in the eye of the world a
mighty man and a terrible. Naturally I love peace and hate war and all that
pertains to war; I see nothing admirable in the ruthless career of Napoleon, save
its finish.

Nevertheless, in that dream the spirit of that pitiless slayer of men entered me! I
shall never forget how the fury of battle throbbed in my veins—it seemed as if
the tumultuous beating of my heart would stop my breath. I rode a fiery hunter—
I can feel the impatient toss of his head now and the quiver that ran through him
at the first roar of the cannon.