…the door, and, amidst the most profound silence, flung it open. Instantly there jumped out on me the most dreadful of creatures, a ghastly caricature of humanity with livid red eyes, and brown face and body, and, as I fled in terror, the houses, walls and people shrieked with laughter. On and on I tore, the sounds of devilish merriment still ringing in my ears, and the ghoulish horror still in hot pursuit. At last, finding that I could hold out no longer, I was about to resign myself to its clutches, when I awoke. Now, although this dream was decidedly unpleasant, it was the precursor of good fortune. And this I think may be accounted for by the predominance in my dream of brown and gold — the brown in the sand of the desert and dress of the people, the gold in the effects of the sunset….

…I have often dreamed complete tales, and, oddly enough, the scene of my tale-dream is, more often than not, in Hyde Park. I append the following by way of illustration. I dreamed it was a wet night, and that I saw, sitting alone on a seat in Hyde Park, with the rain falling mercilessly on her head and shoulders, and forming a large puddle in her lap, a woman — a silent, white-faced woman, that might well have passed for a corpse, or for a typical phantasm of the dead. I was so struck with the sight that I involuntarily stopped, and, advancing towards her, enquired if she were ill.The sound of my voice made her start, and, shaking the water from her dress with a dull, mechanical movement, she said reproachfully, ”Why can’t folks let me alone? You are the third who has spoken to me within the…