Dream Fragments
Of being down south, strolling with Pal through a wide park-like valley. It was September and I was struck with the beauty of September colors, which seemed to me more delicate than up North. The trees pale straw-color & light blue green, and with pale pink-lavender and pale blue-lavender flowering bushes interspersed.
We approached a tumble down at the Red farm; a mongrel dog (with Airedale characteristics) set up a furious barking; I tried to restrain Pal and hurry fast, but he must needs go over to investigate. A gaunt one-armed farmer came out with a gun, threatening to shoot Pal. I called to him (Pal) to hurry to me. “He has a gun. Look out!” I shouted. “I can’t,” Pal replied, “There’s a pond here.” “Jump in and swim it, you can do it.” “That’s what I am doing,” the dog called and a moment later appeared at my side. The farmer came up, still threatening to shoot, but I persuaded him not to.
A country road, near Greene, Bertha's mother, Emma. They have a letter, which seems to worry them. Finally Mrs. R. says she must do something about it. At first she does not seem to want me to [know] what it is about, but presently they tell me that some elderly man had offered marriage to Mrs. R and they were trying to think of some way to decline his offer without hurting his feelings. Mrs. R smiled at me, and said “I suppose you can’t see why anyone would want to marry an old lady like me.” I replied gallantly, “On the contrary, if I were the right age I would marry you in a minute!”
Later, she is dead, and the boys Martin & Vic have inserted in a farm journal an obituary for their mother, citing all the good things she had done for them.
A Railroad station, two trains are approaching, one a passenger and the other a freight. Trackmen are running and shouting, “Look out, they’re going to hit.” The two trains rush together, both engines go upward and then the cars are overturned & collapsed. In a few seconds all the passengers have come out, unharmed. A train off rail & some reporters ask me to make a pictorial record of what happened.
Charles E. Burchfield, August 20, 1946