…my dream.In other dreams I continually visit the same places, sometimes a waterfall, sometimes a river flowing through a dense wood, sometimes a farm-house; and on each occasion the incidents are strictly repeated. Close beside the waterfall I fish, and am always in the act of landing a huge trout, when my tackle gets entangled in some hyper-extraordinary fashion, and I awake. I wander along a shady road by the side of the river, and always at a certain opening an old man, staggering beneath a load of sticks, crosses my path and enters the wicket-gate leading to a tiny, white– washed and neatly thatched cottage. The man has a black patch over one eye, very thick white hair, and is clean-shaven. He wears a white jacket with bone buttons, corduroy trousers, and shoes, one of which is fastened with common or garden string. I have certainly…