…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…

…(A RECAPITULATION) The dreams in which one flies from one scene to another with breathless rapidity, and all the characters are bewilderingly mixed and everything is hopelessly incongruous, though apparently very meaningless, often contain many significant features.To quote an illustration: A certain Doctor Eastlake dreamed he was cycling through Hyde Park one very sunny morning, when a servant-maid, dressed all in pink and yellow, shot a perambulator straight in front of him, and he was thrown head over heels in the air; but instead of alighting on the ground, he found himself running about in a cage at the Zoo without anything on. Then, just as his mother-in-law, her face green with fury, advanced on him with uplifted parasol, the scene changed, and he was picking up sovereigns in the street as fast as he could. One of the coins, as he was about to pop it into his…