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AND behold I was weary and I slept. And in my
dreams my eyes were opened and I beheld a Being.
And he was looking through an instrument, as
it were through a microscope.
And (in my dream) I spoke to him and said,
“ What are you looking at?”
And he said, “It is a bug. I found it sucking
sap from the stem of a weed in the corner of the
kitchen garden.”
And I asked, " Is it a rare bug? ”
And he answered, " Its numbers are a pest.”
And I asked, " Why do you study it?”
And he answered, " I have nothing else to do.”
And (in my dream) I drew near, and he gave me the instrument, and I
looked into it.
And I could see the bug which he had caught, and the heart of it, and
the juices of it moving through its veins, and the white corpuscles that were
in the juices of it.
And behold, these infinitesimalities were what we call the sun and the
stars and the orbs of the vault of heaven.
And I said to him, “Are you then God?”
And he smiled and said, " I am but a poor groping Being like the rest
of my race and if there be a God or no, I know not.”
And I said to myself (in my dream), " If the Earth and her sister
planets, the Dog Star, the Sun, and the myriad millions of the Milky Way
are cells in the ichor of an unconsidered insect on a vagrant weed in the un-
kempt garden of a being who himself knows neither whence he came nor
whither he is bound nor if God lives—then I will tell the readers of Camera
Work that they may see that, agreeing with us if they can, or differing from
us if they must, at least they need not take us too damned seriously.”
J. B. Kerfoot.
57
AND behold I was weary and I slept. And in my
dreams my eyes were opened and I beheld a Being.
And he was looking through an instrument, as
it were through a microscope.
And (in my dream) I spoke to him and said,
“ What are you looking at?”
And he said, “It is a bug. I found it sucking
sap from the stem of a weed in the corner of the
kitchen garden.”
And I asked, " Is it a rare bug? ”
And he answered, " Its numbers are a pest.”
And I asked, " Why do you study it?”
And he answered, " I have nothing else to do.”
And (in my dream) I drew near, and he gave me the instrument, and I
looked into it.
And I could see the bug which he had caught, and the heart of it, and
the juices of it moving through its veins, and the white corpuscles that were
in the juices of it.
And behold, these infinitesimalities were what we call the sun and the
stars and the orbs of the vault of heaven.
And I said to him, “Are you then God?”
And he smiled and said, " I am but a poor groping Being like the rest
of my race and if there be a God or no, I know not.”
And I said to myself (in my dream), " If the Earth and her sister
planets, the Dog Star, the Sun, and the myriad millions of the Milky Way
are cells in the ichor of an unconsidered insect on a vagrant weed in the un-
kempt garden of a being who himself knows neither whence he came nor
whither he is bound nor if God lives—then I will tell the readers of Camera
Work that they may see that, agreeing with us if they can, or differing from
us if they must, at least they need not take us too damned seriously.”
J. B. Kerfoot.
57