One of these nights while you lie dreaming, into your room there’ll come a-screaming, a big black wompus with greenish eyes and a plumaged devil with awful cries; and an Orrie shaped thing all covered with hair will shriek and howl while you tremble there. And a slimy snake with a glistening hide will coil and sing just by your side; and a green-eyed monkey with a pink phizog will about astride a hog, and back in the corner where you threw your coat is the warlike image of a William goat. And the face of a friend who has long been dead, will lurk in the shadows around your bed, with palid face and deathgazed eye and on his lips a cry; and then by your side he will come and stand and soothe your brow with his clammy hand. And there on the floor where you left your hat with back all arched is a Maltese cat, and a tall giraffe with bow and smile is making love to a crocodile, and a polar bear with a growl and a roar will enter your room through a tightly closed door. And you fuss and fume, but you can’t make out just what the dickens it’s all about; and you’ll tell yourself and ’twill be quite true, that you didn’t start out to see the zoo; and for your life you can’t see how you happened to reach this menagerie. Then you’ll reach for your bottle — “your dearest friend” — and hallucination will reach an end, for you’ll take a big drink and your fears are quelled, and the shadowy visions are all dispelled. But ere you repose for another snooze, take this advice.—“Cut out the booze.”
