ove ao the dusk.

    t off in a neion, along t to tter of to t, and its silver-sepia ligo envelop ical icism h.

    Sime to time and touc, but s use it till topped moving. And tly,  ing to stop for anyter an one road and moving slowly along a

    trail of beaten eart ran betand of otle gullies, rickled dorees t clustered there.

    It o ted eadily at to the gully.

    Srickling of t  sound of to one anotopped.

    In t a fele knife. It  so it a little  as if inside t it . And out of it was coming a procession of gs.

    Mary felt as if t art, seizing t branc till  of it.

    Soo, more and more t of to t, and vanished.

    t rangest took a feeps in t, and looked around, transformed  t or smoke, ted a of t breeze.

    Some of toed to tell  t touctle ss, an old woman, beckoned, urging o come close.

    then she spoke, and Mary heard her say:

    quot;tell tories. trut tell true stories, and everyt tell tories.quot;

    t  s ably forgotten, and back in a flood comes all tion  in our sleep. It ried to describe to Atal, t picture; but as Mary tried to find it again, it dissolved and drifted apart, just as the dream was gone.

    All t  ness of t feeling, and tion to tell tories.

    So to t endless silence, more of ts urning to their homeland.

    quot;tell tories,quot; so herself.