"Then when lust hath conceived, it bringeth forth sin: and sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth death."
"You have had a bad dream, Reuben."
The gray light of early morning peeped into the room, filling every nook and corner with the weirdness of unreality. Reuben looked vaguely at Hernando, lying quietly with an inscrutable smile on his face. He raised himself in his chair. Sure enough, there were the lines of dissipation and gray hairs! "'Deed, Massa, I has so!" he replied, as he went to replenish the fire.
"Surely, Reuben, you don't believe in dreams!"
"I'se boun' ter, Massa; didn't Joseph's and Pharaoh's come true?"
"That is a disputed question. I don't believe that people now-a-days dream dreams that have no connection with, or some proportion to their waking knowledge."
"Mebbe so, Massa, but when Massa John was so dreffel sick down in Missouri, Massa Murphy's dog howled t'ree times befo' de do'.
