conceptions of youthful poets who died of the very strength of their
own genius before the world had caught one inspired murmur from
their lips.

When the peculiarities of the library and statue-gallery were
explained to the Oldest Inhabitant, he appeared infinitely
perplexed, and exclaimed, with more energy than usual, that he had
never heard of such a thing within his memory, and, moreover, did
not at all understand how it could be.

"But my brain, I think," said the good old gentleman, "is getting
not so clear as it used to be. You young folks, I suppose, can see
your way through these strange matters. For my part, I give it up."

"And so do I," muttered the Old Harry. "It is enough to puzzle the
--Ahem!"

Making as little reply as possible to these observations, the Man of
Fancy preceded the company to another noble saloon, the pillars of
which were solid golden sunbeams taken out of the sky in the first
hour in the morning. Thus, as they retained all their living
lustre, the room was filled with the most cheerful radiance
imaginable, yet not too dazzling to be borne with comfort and
delight. The windows were beautifully adorned with curtains made of
the many-colored clouds of sunrise, all imbued with virgin light,
and hanging in magnificent festoons from the ceiling to the floor.
Moreover, there were fragments of rainbows scattered through the
room; so that the guests, astonished at one another, reciprocally
saw their heads made glorious by the seven primary hues; or, if they
chose,--as who would not?--they could grasp a rainbow in the air and