_On account of some happenings or other in the city of Rome it is necessary for the children to flee, and this they do. The scene is then laid before a gate, a two-winged gate in antique style (the Porta Romana in Siena, as I know while I am still dreaming). I am sitting on the edge of a well, and am very sad; I almost weep. A feminine person—nurse, nun—brings out the two boys and hands them over to their father, who is not myself. The elder of the two is distinctly my eldest son, and I do not see the face of the other; the woman who brings the boy asks him for a parting kiss. She is distinguished by a red nose. The boy denies her the kiss, but says to her, extending his hand to her in parting, “Auf Geseres,” and to both of us (or to one of us) “Auf Ungeseres.” I have the idea, that the latter indicates an advantage._ This dream is built upon a tangle of thoughts induced by a play I saw at the theatre, called _Das neue Ghetto_ (“The New Ghetto.”) The Jewish question, anxiety about the future of my children who cannot be given a native country of their own, anxiety about bringing them up so that they may have the right of native citizens—all these features may easily be recognised in the accompanying dream thoughts. “We sat by the waters of Babylon and wept.” Siena, like Rome, is famous for its beautiful fountains. In the dream I must find a substitute of some kind for Rome (_cf._ p. 163) in localities which are known to me. Near the Porta Romana of Siena we saw a large, brightly illuminated building, which we found to be the Manicomio, the insane asylum. Shortly before the dream I had heard that a co-religionist had been forced to resign a position at a state asylum which he had secured with great effort. Our interest is aroused by the speech: “_Auf Geseres_”—where we might expect, from the situation maintained throughout the dream, “_Auf Wiedersehen_” (_Au revoir_)—and by its quite meaningless opposite, “_Auf Ungeseres_.”