_We grow great by dreams. All big men are dreamers. They see things in the soft haze of a spring day or in the red fire of a long winter's evening. Some of us let those great dreams die, but others nourish and protect them, nurse them through bad days till they bring them to the sunshine and light which comes always to those who sincerely hope that their dreams will come true._ The President finished. For a moment he stood looking down at the faces turned up to him, and Big Ivan of the Bridge thought that the President smiled at him. Ivan seized Anna's hand and held it tight. "He knew of my Dream!" he cried. "He knew of it. Did you hear what he said about the dreams of a spring day?" "Of course he knew," said Anna. "He is the wisest in America, where there are many wise men. Ivan, you are a citizen now." "And you are a citizen, Anna." The band started to play "My Country, 'tis of Thee," and Ivan and Anna got to their feet. Standing side by side, holding hands, they joined in with the others who had found after long days of journeying the blessed land where dreams come true. WHOSE DOG--?[6] BY FRANCES GREGG From _The Forum_ [6] Copyright, 1915, by Mitchell Kennerley. "Hey--there's ladies here, move on--you!" The tone was authoritative and old John, the village drunkard, crouched away. "I warn't doin' nothin'," he clutched feebly at the loose hanging rags that clothed him, "only wanted to see same's them. Guess this pier's big enough to hold us all." "Halloo, John, have a drink?" A grinning boy held a can of salt water toward him. The quick maudlin tears sprang to the old man's eyes. "Little fellers," he muttered, "little fellers, they oughtn't ter act that way." "Give him a new necktie, he's gotta go to dinner with the Lodge." A handful of dank sea-weed writhed around the old man's neck. "That's a turtle, that is," the boy went on, the need for imparting information justifying his lapse from ragging the drunkard. "There--swimming round--it's tied to that stake. You orter've seen it at low tide when it was on the beach. It weighs ninety pounds." "I seen a turtle onct," the drunkard quavered. "It was bigger'n that. En they tied it to a stake--en it swam round--en it swam round--." His sodden brain clutched for something more to say, some marvel with which to hold the interest of the gathered boys. It was good to talk. If only they would let him talk to them. If only they would let him sit on the store porch and smoke and gossip. He wouldn't be the town disgrace-- "Well--go on--what'd't do?" "Hey you!"--the boys were interrupted by the authoritative voice--"I told you to move on, didn't I--now if I tell you again I'll run you in. D'yer hear? What you boys let that old bum hang around you for anyway. What's he doin' here?" "Aw, he's fun. He warn't doin' nothin'. He was just awatchin' it swim. It's tied to that post. It don't come up no more."