Neverhome - Pg 153

   That very night in a dream I went rushing over the treetops... I found the house burned to the ground and Bartholomew run off far away. In his place were old and evil men sharpening their plows and planning to set our good oxen to the yoke and, to the tune of "Dixie" made it worse, gobble everything up.
   It was these same men had burned our neighbor out those years before and so my mother came into the dream and stood in the center of the cinder of our house, which had been her house, and wept. The tears of my mother must have found a way out of the dream and onto my face because when I woke there they were. Hot and heavy ghosts come to haunt my face.