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Page 7
1912.
H.P.S.
This record of births and deaths is copied from the
Porter Family Bible, just lately discovered.
BIRTHS
ALGERNON SIDNEY PORTER
Son of SIDNEY AND RUTH C. PORTER
Was born August 22, 1825
MONDAY EVENING, May 29, 1858
Still-born Son of A. S. AND M. V. PORTER
MONDAY, August 6, 1860, 9 o'clock P.M.
SHIRLEY WORTH Son of A. S. AND M. V. PORTER
THURSDAY, September 11, 1862, 9 o'clock P.M.
[O. HENRY] WILLIAM SIDNEY Son of A. S. AND M. V. PORTER
SUNDAY, March 26, 1865, at 8 o'clock A. M.
DAVID WEIR Son of A. S. AND M. V. PORTER
MARY JANE VIRGINIA SWAIM [MOTHER OF O. HENRY]
Daughter of WILLIAM AND ABIAH SWAIM
Was born February 12, 1833
DEATHS
MARY VIRGINIA PORTER
TUESDAY EVENING, September 26, 1865 At 7:30 o'clock
ATHOL ESTES PORTER
SUNDAY EVENING, July 25,1897 At 6 o'clock
ALGERNON SIDNEY PORTER
SUNDAY MORNING, September 30, 1888 At 20 minutes of 2 o'clock
THE DREAM
[This was the last work of O. Henry. The Cosmopolitan Magazine had
ordered it from him and, after his death, the unfinished manuscript was
found in his room, on his dusty desk. The story as it here appears was
published in the Cosmopolitan for September, 1910.]
MURRAY dreamed a dream.
Both psychology and science grope when they would explain to us the
strange adventures of our immaterial selves when wandering in the realm
of "Death's twin brother, Sleep." This story will not attempt to be
illuminative; it is no more than a record of Murray's dream. One of the
most puzzling phases of that strange waking sleep is that dreams which
seem to cover months or even years may take place within a few seconds
or minutes.
Murray was waiting in his cell in the ward of the condemned. An electric
arc light in the ceiling of the corridor shone brightly upon his table.
On a sheet of white paper an ant crawled wildly here and there as Murray
blocked its way with an envelope. The electrocution was set for eight
o'clock in the evening. Murray smiled at the antics of the wisest of
insects.
There were seven other condemned men in the chamber. Since he had been
there Murray had seen three taken out to their fate; one gone mad and
fighting like a wolf caught in a trap; one, no less mad, offering up a
sanctimonious lip-service to Heaven; the third, a weakling, collapsed
and strapped to a board. He wondered with what credit to himself his own
heart, foot, and face would meet his punishment; for this was his
evening. He thought it must be nearly eight o'clock.
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