"Did thee have any peculiar dreams lately, Aunt Debie?" asked
Rachel Stebbins. "I had a perfectly awful one the other night."

"Doo tell. What was it, Rachel?" said Aunt Debie.

"I dreamt," continued Rachel, "that I was standing by an open
grave; and it appeared to me, jest before they lowered the coffin
into it, they took the lid off from the coffin, and in it was the
corpse of a young girl, white as chalk, but she appeared as if she
must have been very pretty when she was living. There were orange
blossoms on her bosom and also in her hair. The features 'peared
familiar, but I could not, for the life of me, make out who she
was, nor can I yet, though I see her ghastly face ever before me,
and think I shall thus see it until the day I die. And what 'pears
to me as singular is, that I saw every one that is here now there,
and a great many more of our relatives and friends, and all were
weeping as if she were some one very near and dear to them. Now,
what does thee make of that dream?"

"What did thee eat before thee went to bed, Rachel?" asked Mr.
Gurney, who came into the room while she was relating her dream.
He was by nature inclined to be reserved, but yet possessed a fund
of quiet humor, and he delighted to quiz Aunt Debie and her Quaker
friends in respect to their superstitious fancies. But Aunt Debie
could not look upon this levity with any degree of allowance, in
fact, she viewed it as little else than profanity. "Did thee eat
mince pie, dough nuts, or plum cake? If thee did, thee must be
more careful in thy diet, or thee may dream something even more
terrible the next time."