Dear Marion Holmes: I should like just out of curiosity to get the opinion of some of your corner readers, as well as your own, on the enclosed sketch of a dream I had when working out west. About 26 years ago I was working in the West near the mining country, and one night I dreamed I was in a mining town, the name of which I did not know in my dream, nor had I ever seen it in reality. I was crossing the street to a store building painted white, and in my hand I carried an envelope that I was to deliver to the boss of the store. When I arrived at the center of the street I was met by three men who were coming from the opposite side, one of whom stopped me, saying: "Come with me and I will show you where there is a gold mine." I replied: "I haven't time to go now," but he insisted, "Well, come anyway and when you have time you can go and get it." So I went. We started off in the direction of what I have since learned is the richest locality in gold mines and after walking a while we seemed to float through space; then we came to the ground a few feet from the top of the mountain. We walked up to the top and again floated in the air in a semi-circle, landing at the foot of another mountain a few miles to the west. The stranger said: "I want you to note the peculiar formation of this country and this stream and right here, walking a short distance, is where you will find the gold." About three months later I decided to return to Chicago, and in the train I met a cigar salesman who, as we soon became friendly, insisted that I should locate in one of the towns on his route and gave me a letter to a certain friend of his in the mining district. When the friend had read the letter he wrote another to a friend of his own on whom I was to call. As I went down the street I carried the letter in my hand and as I crossed the street I stopped short, for the store I sought was the store of my dream. Three years ago at a summer resort where a company of us were telling strange dreams, I remarked that the weak part of my dream was that one of my guides was supposed to be a dead relative of my own, and my mother remarked at once, "I had an uncle, a prospector, who died out West in the mining country, but nobody ever knew just where." Chicago. CURIOUS. MARION HOLMES' ANSWER.