An interesting class of dreams is that of the dream in which the sleeper finds himself frequently in a certain house or room that is familiar to him in dreams but quite unknown to his waking hours. By many letters, and sentences in letters, I am reminded that I ought to refer to this class of dream fantasies, although, perhaps for want of sufficient inventive faculty, I have no dream houses, so to call them, for my own habitation. Again, as in case of the beautiful dream scenery enjoyed by some fortunate ones, I have to lament my own private limitations.

The best story in which a dream house of this kind plays a part has been told often before. Whether it has ever been published I do not know, nor care. It is good enough to tell twice, too good to be grudgingly guarded by copyright. A certain lady dreamed frequently of a certain house until it had become exceedingly familiar to her; she knew all its rooms, its furniture; it was as well known to her as that in which she lived her waking life, and, like a good wife that has no secrets from her husband, she often talked over all the details with him, a very pleasant fancy. One day they, husband and wife, went into the country to see a house that they thought of taking for the summer months. They had not seen it, but the account in the house agent's list had attracted them. When they arrived before it they gave a simultaneous exclamation of surprise - "Why," said the husband, "it is your dream - house!" It was. No one who is acquainted with house agent's lists, and the houses described in them, will be the least surprised at their failure to recognise it from the description given. Naturally they were greatly interested to find that the house corresponded in every detail with the particulars of the dream - house. The coincidence attracted them.

They took the house.

In course of their occupancy they learned that the house had the reputation of being haunted, that several people before them had taken it for short terms, but had seen, or fancied they had seen, "something," and had left before their term of tenancy expired. Had these new tenants not brought their own old servants with them, it is likely they would have had some difficulty in whipping up a domestic staff, so uncanny was the reputation of this apparently quite reputable house. The new tenants dwelt in the house with all satisfaction and peace through the summer months, until their term of tenancy came to an end. On leaving, husband and wife expressed their satisfaction to the local agent "The only thing," said the wife, "that we were disappointed in about the house, is that we never saw the ghost"

"Oh no," said the agent. "We knew you would not see the ghost."

"What do you mean?" asked the wife, rather nettled. (One never likes the suggestion that one is too obtusely prosaic to be a recipient of the supernatural.)

"Oh," the agent repeated. "We knew you would not see the ghost. You are the ghost, that people have always seen here."

It is rather a shock, no doubt, to find that even in life one can officiate as a first - class bogey and frighten people out of their wits, all unknowing it. But is it not a capital story? Perhaps it has had some chiffons broidered on to it, but the evidence is very strong for telepathic influences. It is easy to dismiss it as "all humbug"; but it is not a scientific attitude to take up. Science, looking at these things that it does not understand, ought to be reminded now and then of the view that it took for a long while about mesmerism. It would take no view of it at all - shut its eyes to it - declared in fact (and in long words) that it was "all humbug". Science came a cropper once; so for the future she had better imitate a little more the prudent gait of Agag. However, all this is too previous, not to say presumptuous. This dream of the dream - house has led us into the hard places of telepathy. Let us come back to the comparatively solid ground of our dream - houses. There are plenty of them. But none of the other stories are nearly as good as this one. The digression was worth making.

I will now quote, shortly, one or two extracts from letters that speak of dream - rooms and dream - houses that have no counterpart in the waking knowledge of their dreamers. " I have dream places to which I go occasionally," one writes, "and which I have never seen when awake. One is nothing more interesting than a railway station, whence trains appear to start, at different platforms, for everywhere." (Certainly it would be far more interesting if they all started from the same platform "for everywhere".) "I often dream," another writes, "of being in a familiar place, generally a house, while all the details of the place or house are either far more like some other place or house or quite different from all I know. And yet I never feel puzzled nor doubt their identity." This, yet again, is like Miss Cobbe s Harley Street, with the shops. Yet another correspondent, writing not of his personal, but of some communicated experience, says, "I know two persons who each have a dream - house, i.e., a house unlike any house they have seen in waking life, but which they visit in their dreams, so that they are quite familiar with its rooms and passages, and in fact call it their house". These are just a few extracts, giving instances of what I believe to be a large class of dreams.

Instances, of course, vary immensely in interest, from the "finished sketch," presented by the one first quoted (probably owing a little to "accretion," as they say - to the semi - conscious additions made by each teller of the dream), down to the mere uneventful dream of some house or place unfamiliar to waking sense.