I seemed to be in the old High School building wandering through empty rooms. I was in an upper story. I came to a place where there was a hole in the floor and looked down. Below was a large room, of remarkable height, chiefly used for storage of chemical apparatus. I thought I would climb down by aid of a stack of shelves just under the hole. The distance to the floor was about twenty feet, and I felt dizzy as I started. The shelves made an awkward ladder, but I passed the upper ones and was gaining confidence when I came to one loaded with glassware. As I bore my weight on its edge, the shelf tilted and its unstable load of condensers and graduated cylinders shifted toward the verge. I struggled to keep my own equilibrium and to save the glass at the same time. Waging a losing battle, I woke.