(_Dreaming and looking about him in apprehension._) War! War! How terrible! How did I come here? How does there happen to be war? Those are fighting men over there! They are killing each other! Horrors! But the great thing is to escape. That fire is dreadful. It means death. (_He struggles to put himself in motion and grunts in his sleep._) PATSY LAFERTY (_Ringing again._) Well, dis is some sleeper, all right. Or else dere ain’t nobody home. I’ll kick, I will. (_He kicks._) Come to! I ain’t supposed to stand here all night. (_Kicks and knocks are without result._) SYPHERS (_Still dreaming heavily._) And here comes a file of soldiers--I hear them tramping--a great company. Merciful heavens, they see me! (_He begins to run. As he does so the file of dream soldiers begin to run also._) THE FILE OF DREAM SOLDIERS Halt! THE PROFESSOR (_Breaking into a heavy sweat._) Great God! I haven’t a place to hide! Oh, Lord, what shall I do? (_He turns, and in his dream he imagines a deserted stone hut set in a grove of thick tall trees, which seems to offer shelter. He runs towards the hut._) As I live, here is a stone hut among thick trees! I’ll hide in it. Perhaps they won’t see me. _(He dashes wildly in, slamming a heavy door behind him._) A SCORE OF DREAM SOLDIERS (_Hurrying after him and knocking with their musket butts on the door._) Knock! Knock! Knock! PATSY LAFERTY (_At the door._) Knock! Knock! Knock! Gee, wot a night! Dese raindrops look like spits. An’ dat lightning! Dat last one looked like a telegraph pole standin’ straight in de air! SYPHERS (_Cowering in a corner._) Oh, Lord! My life is worth nothing! Here I lie hiding in an empty stone hut, and those men at the door want my life. What is life? A dream! A dream!--but, oh, such a precious dream! I would not want to disappear--not yet! No, no! I would not want to wake up. I don’t want to die--not yet. Not yet! (_As he lies there cowering, all the coruscations and thunder of a great battle afflict him; cannon, machine guns, human cries, commands. He cowers lower, and yet in spite of the thickness of the walls which seem to protect him he can see through them to the surrounding trees to where the dream soldiers await him--tall men in red coats and towering shakos--and beyond them again to the battlefield, red with flame and gore. As he stares, the men in the shakos glare at him._) FIRST DREAM SOLDIER (_Pointing at him and speaking to another._) We’ll easily get him out of there. Can’t you see him lying there, close by the wall? (_To the other soldiers._) Bring a battering ram. (_A soldier starts off._) No, bring a cannon. We’ll blow him out. (_A second soldier goes._) He thinks we can’t get him, but we can. (_Other soldiers draw near. They move in the curious, indefinite way common to figures in dreams. Nothing is clear, and yet there is a sense of impending disaster. The Professor studies the nature of his predicament with a sense of horror._) THE PROFESSOR