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…

…To dream of a birth signifies a death. One afternoon, at a garden-party, I met an old friend, who told me he had just dreamed his sister had had a child, and as he was curious to know whether that event had actually occurred, he was going to write at once. The dream was verified, but in a manner he did not anticipate; for, on arriving at his house he found a telegram awaiting him there to say his sister was dead! And again, at a cricket match one baking hot day in July I was speaking of dreams, when one of the players exclaimed with a shudder: ‘’I fear your interpretation of the birth dream is only too correct. A lady once told my wife that she dreamed she had given birth to a remarkably fine boy, whose eyes, however, were not both of the same colour. Two…