The Land of Dreams

IT was still, so still in the wood that you could have heard a pin drop. One doesn't usually drop pins in a wood, but on the floor, or on a chair, or somewhere else where they are sure to run into you just when you are not expecting anything of the kind.

There was not a breath of wind; the trees, standing in rows like giant sentinels, seemed to be waiting for somebody. Who could it be?

A lovely path of soft green moss ran through this wood from one end of it to the other. Far away one could see a little patch of blue. This was the sky. The trees were so high that they formed a roof overhead and shut out nearly all the light.

By and by there was a joyful bark, and dashing through the wood came a black dog with his tail waving behind him. It was Alexander! He was enjoying himself.

George came hurrying along after him. Though he had been running for quite a long time he didn't seem to be a little bit tired. His cheeks were rosy, his eyes were bright, and he sang aloud for joy. He was so glad to be out with Alexander once more.

"Wait for me, Alexander!" he cried. "Wait for me. Don't be in such a hurry!"

Alexander came bounding toward him, and after chasing one another in and out of among the trees they threw themselves down on the soft moss to rest for a moment.

"I think I should like to lie here all day," said George. "I don't remember coming to this part of the wood before. I wonder how we got here. Do you know, Alexander?"

"I brought you here, little George," said Alexander—at least, it sounded as if he had said that, and for a moment George thought he had really spoken.

"That would be fun," he thought to himself as he lay back with his head against the trunk of a tree. "What would they say if I went home and said that Alexander had been talking to me?"

Suddenly, far, far off he heard the music again. It seemed to be calling, calling to him: "Come, little boy, come and dance and play! The sun is shining; the soft wind is blowing. Come and play with us!"

"What nonsense!" said George aloud. "I must be dreaming again. I wonder if the doctor gave me that medicine to make me dream. What was it he said to me about Fairyland?"

"Wish as hard as ever you can!" said Alexander.

George was so startled when he heard Alexander speak for the second time that he fell down backward. Then he sat up slowly and looked at him. The dear black dog was sitting up, looking at George with—yes!—a smile on his face, and wagging his tail gently to and fro.

"Now am I dreaming or not?" said George.

Alexander still smiled and wagged his tail, but he said never a word this time.

"Come on!" cried George, and he ran down the path as hard as ever he could.

He ran and ran until suddenly he found himself right out of the wood and in the midst of a most beautiful meadow. A little stream of clear blue water flowed gently along past banks carpeted with flowers. There must have been hundreds of them, and every one a different colour.

The sun was shining as he had never seen it shine before, and yet he did not feel a bit too hot.

He looked around him, but there was no one to be seen. The only sound was the soft gurgle, gurgle of the stream flowing over the stones. He lay down by the side of it, and hollowing his hands to make a cup, dipped them in the water; then, raising them to his mouth, took a deep, delicious drink.

George drank again and yet again; then, lying face downward, gazed into the stream. It was full of little fishes; golden, silver—there were so many that he could not even count them, and each was more beautiful than the other.

"This is jolly!" he thought. "It's just like a piece out of a story, only better."

He rose to his feet and stood for a moment thinking. "I know; I want to cross the stream," he said, when—lo and behold!—just in front of him there was a little bridge, exactly wide enough for one person at a time. He crossed it with Alexander at his heels; then, turning round to look back, found that the bridge had vanished!

This was a curious thing to happen, but George hadn't time to wait. He wanted to go on and on and find out where the wonderful music came from.

"Wu-uff!" barked Alexander, and it sounded for all the world as if he were saying: "What fun, George! What fun!"

On they dashed, first George in front and then his dog. Right across the meadow they went, and suddenly found themselves on a broad white road which went winding and winding along as far as ever you could see.

"This is like 'Over the hills and far away,'" laughed George. "Come on, old boy!" And on they ran again, so fast that the road looked as if it were unwinding itself quickly like a ball of ribbon.

"I expect we shall soon get there now," said George. "We must be miles and miles away from home."

The road grew narrower and narrower until it became quite a little path, and this path led them up to a little green gate, which appeared suddenly in front of them as if it had popped up out of the ground.

"This must lead to just where I want to go," said George. He was quite accustomed to talking aloud now. Somehow his voice sounded different, and he felt as if he must talk, for it seemed as if some one—he didn't know who—was listening to him all the time.

Across the top of the gate was written in shining letters "Please open me."

George pushed it open and walked through; then he saw that on the other side was "Please shut me." He shut it carefully behind him and walked on.

Once more, in front of him, sounded the music, but clearer and louder, as if it were only round the corner—but there was no corner.

He found himself in a narrow, shady glade. The trees, the grass, everything was a cool, delicious green. It was like looking down a long tunnel lighted by a soft green light. The little path went straight down-hill as far as one could see, and never seemed to end.

George was beginning to wonder where he was going to, and if he had not wanted to find out about the music he would have turned back, for it felt like tea-time. He could not remember at what hour he had started out; nor how he had got into the wood; nor did he know how he was going to find his way back. But he knew that it was close upon tea-time, which is quite a different feeling from breakfast and lunch-time, as you all know.

"I wish there was a house here," he thought. "I should like tea with plenty of jam and cake."

There was really no end to the surprises of this most wonderful day. The path went straight—as if it had been told—into a wide open space, and there stood a delightful little house with smoke curling up from its chimneys.

George stood still for a moment and looked at it with eyes wide open in surprise. Alexander rushed forward, barking joyfully, and jumped against the door.

George followed him, and then stood still again, for painted on the door in tiny letters was GEORGE'S HOUSE.

"How funny!" he thought. "There must be another George living here. I hope he will be kind and give me tea."

He lifted the latch and walked inside. There was no one there, but in the middle of the most comfortable little room stood a table with the cloth laid; tea, bread and butter, cake, jam (two kinds)—quite a birthday tea, in fact.

Alexander was already seated in one of the chairs as if he were in the nursery at home and eager to begin.

"Well!" said George, "this is nice!" And before you could count 'two' he had seated himself at the table, poured out a cup of tea, and was spreading strawberry jam on to a large piece of fresh bread and butter. How they both enjoyed themselves! There never was such a tea!

When they had eaten all they could there was still plenty left on the table. It almost looked as if some one had been cutting bread and butter and cake for them all the time.

George remembered to say his grace, and then, all of a sudden, he felt very sleepy.

"It's not nearly bed-time yet, but I wonder if there's a bedroom. I should like to lie down just for a minute or two," he said. Alexander yawned and stretched himself.

George looked round, and there in the corner he saw a stair, so up he went and found himself in a little bedroom. The bed looked so comfortable that he lay down on it, while Alexander curled himself up at the foot with a sigh of content.

The wind blew gently in through the window, bringing with it the scent of sweet flowers. Really it was just like asking George to go to sleep.

He closed his eyes, and in a moment was far away in the Land of Dreams.

Once more was heard the strain of music, sweet and clear, and with it, wafted on the wings of the wind, came the sound of hundreds of tiny little voices laughing.