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 thing that interferes with whatever is worth while, that spoils everything and upsets everything, is always matter!"

"And isn't it curious," said the Dream, "that everybody admits it; but not nearly everybody knows it?"

"What do you mean?" asked Marjorie.

"Well, not nearly everybody knows that what is called matter, is at the root of all trouble; and lots of folks would argue their heads off that it isn't so;—and yet those same folks, just as soon as anything unpleasant happens, immediately say 'What's the matter?' admitting the fact involuntarily, showing that they really know the truth inside, even if they won't let it come to the surface."

"That is so," said Marjorie. "It is curious that a truth should have worked its way into a language and into everybody's consciousness, enough for them to keep stating it constantly; when if you called their attention to it, a lot of them would be right down indignant."

"And another lot of them would say that it showed what a wonderful way the truth has of penetrating where it isn't expected, and sometimes isn't even wanted."

Marjorie curled her arm around under her head and lay looking out at the big apple-tree. "I read somewhere," she said, thoughtfully, "that 'Matter is experience.