Remain there longer, our vision becomes clouded, impressions become vague, the memory uncertain; we seem absorbed in close contemplation, and yet but dimly realize what it is we contemplate; we dream and hardly know upon awakening what was really seen and what imagined. At times strange tales are told Of those depths, of curious forms Of life, part Of this world and part sugges tive Of some unreal world beyond. Monsters and sprites and elves are there, who on rare occasions, it is said, disport themselves upon the tops Of the waves, much to the consternation Of those who bring the tale. Ghosts Of our former, or Of our other selves are said to lurk in this night-side of mind, at times reasserting their portion in the con scious life that alone we call our own. As we turn to Observe them, to stare at, them with the waking eye, the cock crows, the dawn of consciousness looms above the horizon we are again awake and the ghosts have vanished.