pretend to like it unless you really do. Of course it is not at
all the kind of thing that will sell, is it-- and the metre must
be patched up in places, don't you think? And some of the most
beautiful passages would never be permitted by the censor--but
still--" and Colombo paused hopefully, for it was Colombo's poem
and into it he had poured the heart of his life and it seemed to
him now, more than ever, a beautiful thing.

The stranger handed Colombo a book.

"There", said he, "is the land of your imagining", and in his
eyes gleamed a curious sardonic mockery.

And Colombo read the book. And when he had finished his face was
grey as are old ashes in ancient urns, and about the mouth of him
whom men called the Dreamer were curious hard lines.

"Now, by Heaven", said Colombo brandishing his sword Impavide,
"you lie. And your Gopher Prairie is a lie. And you are all, all
contemptible, you who dip your pens in tracing ink and seek to
banish beautiful dreams from the world."

But the red-haired stranger had vanished and Colombo found that
he was alone and to Colombo the world seemed cheerless and as a
place that none has lived in for a long time.

"Now this is curious", mused Colombo, "for I have evidently been
dreaming and a more horrible dream have I never had, and I
think", said Colombo, "that while all this quite certainly did
not actually take place, yet that grinning red head has upset me