See how they whirl and plunge. And now they stop again, and
whisper, cautiously together--little thinking, mind, how often I have
lain upon the grass and watched them. I say what is it that they plot
and hatch? Do you know?'
'They are only clothes,' returned the guest, 'such as we wear; hanging
on those lines to dry, and fluttering in the wind.'
'Clothes!' echoed Barnaby, looking close into his face, and falling
quickly back. 'Ha ha! Why, how much better to be silly, than as wise
as you! You don't see shadowy people there, like those that live in
sleep--not you. Nor eyes in the knotted panes of glass, nor swift ghosts
when it blows hard, nor do you hear voices in the air, nor see men
stalking in the sky--not you! I lead a merrier life than you, with all
your cleverness. You're the dull men. We're the bright ones. Ha! ha!
I'll not change with you, clever as you are,--not I!'
With that, he waved his hat above his head, and darted off.
'A strange creature, upon my word!' said the guest, pulling out a
handsome box, and taking a pinch of snuff.
'He wants imagination,' said Mr Willet, very slowly, and after a long
silence; 'that's what he wants. I've tried to instil it into him, many
and many's the time; but'--John added this in confidence--'he an't made
for it; that's the fact.
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