_Witness II._--M. dreamt she had gone bathing with L. P. and the teacher. Far out in the lake M. said to the teacher that her leg was hurting her very much. Then the teacher said she could get up on him. I don't know now whether the last sentence was really so told, but I think so. As there was just then a ship on the lake the teacher said she should swim as far as the ship and then get in. I don't remember exactly how it went on. Then the teacher or M., I don't really remember which, said they would get out at Z. and run home. Then the teacher called out to two gentlemen who had just been bathing there, that they might carry the children to land. Then L. P. sat up on one man, and M. on the other fat man, and the teacher held on to the fat man's leg and swam after them. Arrived on land they ran home. On the way the teacher met his friend who had a wedding. M. said: "It was then the fashion to go on foot, not in a carriage." Then the bride said she must now go along also. Then the teacher said it would be nice if the two girls gave the bride their black veils, which they had got on the way. I can't now remember how. The children gave it her, and the bride said they were really dear generous children. Then they went on further and put up at the Sun Hotel. There they got something to eat, I don't know exactly what. Then they went to a barn and danced. All the men had taken off their coats except the teacher. Then the bride said he ought to take off his coat also. Then the teacher hesitated but finally did so. Then the teacher was.... Then the teacher said he was cold. I must not tell any more; it is improper. That's all I heard of the dream. _Remarks._--The narrator pays special attention to the getting up, but is uncertain whether in the original it referred to getting up on the teacher or the steamer. This uncertainty is, however, amply compensated for by the elaborate invention of the two strangers who take the girls upon their backs. The getting up is too valuable a thought for the narrator to surrender, but she is troubled by the idea of the teacher seeing the object. The want of clothing likewise arouses much interest. The bride's veil has, it is true, become the black veil of mourning (naturally in order to conceal anything indelicate). There is not only no innocent twisting, but it is conspicuously virtuous ("dear, generous children"); the amoral wish has become changed into virtue which receives special emphasis, arousing suspicion as does every accentuated virtue. This narrator exuberantly fills in the blanks in the scene of the barn: the men take off their coats; the teacher also, and is therefore ... _i.e._ naked and hence cold. Whereupon it becomes too improper.