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resh morning air, fill their bitter hearts with nature's sweet joy, and cleanse themselves from all envy and hatred, and make peace all along the line on the simple basis that we are all human creatures who don't want to hurt one another. Thus without bloodshed completing that revolution of peace which makes all other revolutions superfluous. In this way I sit dreaming while on this lovely June night the ship carries me across the quiet sea to my old home. Like an image of my dream I saw, at sunrise, just as we passed the entrance of the fjord, a young woman stand by my side. She was tall and proud, her face shining with peace. As a vision she came, as a vision she disappeared. But if she was an omen I receive her thankfully,—an omen that I am steering the straight course for peace.

E arrived in the early morning. My luggage I left on board for the present, not yet knowing where I was going to put up, and sauntered up through the sleeping town. At first it all seemed rather strange: the street I walked in had a name I did not remember, and I saw many new houses with silly, smooth, every-day faces and shop-windows of cold and heartless plate-glass.

But when I reached the square I recognised my old town.

I sat down on the flight of stone steps which