126 THE CHERRY-STONES.

his forehead, and his frame felt bruised
and benumbed, as though only just re-
leased from the grasp of the cherry-tree.
He scarcely dared to open his eyes, lest
they should encounter its hideous writh-
ings, or light upon the spectral figure of
the skeleton dog. But the boy’s mind
and body were alike weary. Nature
claimed her privilege in spite of his ter
ror; and he had not fully recovered from
its effects, before he again fell asleep.

His second dream also took the shape
and colour of his waking fears. He im-
agined that it was the morning on which
the school was to break up, and that the
boys were assembled to receive the prizes.
But, with the wild inconsistency of a
dream, the scene was not laid in the
Charlton school-room, but in a wide, open
plain, extending so far in every direction