MY OLD VILLAGE. 329 
to describe these things to them they look at me with 
stolid incredulity. No one seems to understand how I 
got food from the clouds, nor what there was in the night, 
nor why it is not so good to look at it out of window. 
They turn their faces away from me, so that perhaps after 
all I was mistaken, and there never was any such place 
or any such meadows, and I was never there. And 
perhaps in course of time I shall find out also, when I 
pass away physically, that as a matter of fact there never 
was any earth, 
