He heard, but did not answer. Jean opened the door of the tent, and knelt beside the still, white form of her mother. “Couldn’t you sleep, my daughter?” asked her father, reaching across the shrouded figure of his dead and tenderly caressing her tear-wet face. “No, daddie; at least, not any more. I’ve had one short nap. When I woke and heard you moaning, I thought maybe you’d be glad to have me come in. I want to tell you my dream. May I, daddie dear, for mother’s sake?” “Yes, child.” “I dreamed that I was all alone in a great park. I have never seen anything half so beautiful when awake, so I can’t tell you what it was like. But there were flowers and trees and fountains, and birds of paradise that sang heavenly songs. It seemed that I could understand the language of every bird and butterfly and tree and flower. The birds did not seem the least bit afraid of me; and the memory of their music is sweet in my ears now. “I don’t know how I got across, but before I had time to think about it, I found myself on the opposite side of a broad and shining river, as clear as crystal and as blue as the sky. On the water, which I could see through to a wonderful depth, were countless living things, reflecting all the colors of the rainbow, and many more,—all swimming, as if without effort, among the rarest foliage and flowers. Everything seemed alive,—that is, sentient, if that’s the proper word,—and acted as if it knew me, and was glad I had come. “The park I had first entered was even prettier at a distance than it had been at closer range. The river-bank, which was covered with grass that looked like pea-green velvet spangled with diamonds, was furnished in spots with vine-embowered seats. To sit or step upon them did not crush the vines; and I noticed that after they had yielded to pressure, they would rebound at its removal, like a rubber ball,—only, unlike the rubber, they seemed to have a consciousness all their own. The bending green of the trees was like emeralds, and their leaves shone like satin. The hearts of the flowers glowed like balls of living fire; and when I plucked a spray, there was left no broken stem to show what I had done. I was too happy to think, and I closed my eyes in absolute peace. “Suddenly a brilliant light permeated everything; the river looked like melted silver, and the park glowed so brightly that I tried to shield my eyes with my hand. But my hand was almost transparent, and I could see everything as well when my eyes were closed as open. As I sat, quietly inbreathing the wonderful beauty of it all, filled with a happiness that I cannot express in words, there came to me, not audibly, but yet as if spoken by somebody, the words of the last Sunday-school lesson I had learned in the little log schoolhouse in the Illinois woods: ‘And there shall be no night there!’