Dream Psychology | Page 5

however,
choose a dream of my own, which appears confused and meaningless to my memory, and

one which has the advantage of brevity. Probably my dream of last night satisfies the
requirements. Its content, fixed immediately after awakening, runs as follows:
_"Company; at table or table d'hôte.... Spinach is served. Mrs. E.L., sitting next to me,
gives me her undivided attention, and places her hand familiarly upon my knee. In
defence I remove her hand. Then she says: 'But you have always had such beautiful
eyes.'.... I then distinctly see something like two eyes as a sketch or as the contour of a
spectacle lens...."_
This is the whole dream, or, at all events, all that I can remember. It appears to me not
only obscure and meaningless, but more especially odd. Mrs. E.L. is a person with whom
I am scarcely on visiting terms, nor to my knowledge have I ever desired any more
cordial relationship. I have not seen her for a long time, and do not think there was any
mention of her recently. No emotion whatever accompanied the dream process.
Reflecting upon this dream does not make it a bit clearer to my mind. I will now,
however, present the ideas, without premeditation and without criticism, which
introspection yielded. I soon notice that it is an advantage to break up the dream into its
elements, and to search out the ideas which link themselves to each fragment.
_Company; at table or table d'hôte._ The recollection of the slight event with which the
evening of yesterday ended is at once called up. I left a small party in the company of a
friend, who offered to drive me home in his cab. "I prefer a taxi," he said; "that gives one
such a pleasant occupation; there is always something to look at." When we were in the
cab, and the cab-driver turned the disc so that the first sixty hellers were visible, I
continued the jest. "We have hardly got in and we already owe sixty hellers. The taxi
always reminds me of the table d'hôte. It makes me avaricious and selfish by
continuously reminding me of my debt. It seems to me to mount up too quickly, and I am
always afraid that I shall be at a disadvantage, just as I cannot resist at table d'hôte the
comical fear that I am getting too little, that I must look after myself." In far-fetched
connection with this I quote:
"To earth, this weary earth, ye bring us, To guilt ye let us heedless go."
Another idea about the table d'hôte. A few weeks ago I was very cross with my dear wife
at the dinner-table at a Tyrolese health resort, because she was not sufficiently reserved
with some neighbors with whom I wished to have absolutely nothing to do. I begged her
to occupy herself rather with me than with the strangers. That is just as if I had _been at a
disadvantage at the table d'hôte_. The contrast between the behavior of my wife at the
table and that of Mrs. E.L. in the dream now strikes me: _"Addresses herself entirely to
me."_
Further, I now notice that the dream is the reproduction of a little scene which transpired
between my wife and myself when I was secretly courting her. The caressing under cover
of the tablecloth was an answer to a wooer's passionate letter. In the dream, however, my
wife is replaced by the unfamiliar E.L.
Mrs. E.L. is the daughter of a man to whom I owed money! I cannot help noticing that

here there is revealed an unsuspected connection between the dream content and my
thoughts. If the chain of associations be followed up which proceeds from one element of
the dream one is soon led back to another of its elements. The thoughts evoked by the
dream stir up associations which were not noticeable in the dream itself.
Is it not customary, when some one expects others to look after his interests without any
advantage to themselves, to ask the innocent question satirically: "Do you think this will
be done _for the sake of your beautiful eyes_?" Hence Mrs. E.L.'s speech in the dream.
"You have always had such beautiful eyes," means nothing but "people always do
everything to you for love of you; you have had everything for nothing." The contrary is,
of course, the truth; I have always paid dearly for whatever kindness others have shown
me. Still, the fact that I had a ride for nothing yesterday when my friend drove me home
in his cab must have made an impression upon me.
In any case, the friend whose guests we were yesterday has often made me his debtor.
Recently I allowed an opportunity of requiting him to go by.