The White Cat by Gelett Burgess — Read

I started back for Midmeadows at ten o'clock the next day. It was a / fine breezy morning and the country-side was full of odors. The sky was / an intense blue, abounding in great rolling white clouds which spotted / it like the continents and islands of a huge map upon which some titanic / Napoleon was continually carving and remodeling new realms and empires / of the firmament.

I paid less attention to them, however, than I did to the mental empire / it was now my purpose to overthrow. If thunder and lightning could / burst the cloud that kept the sunshine from my sweetheart's life, I was / determined to conjure that storm.