“Don’t mind me,” said Mr. Thimblefinger, with mock politeness. “Go to sleep if you want to, you two. I won’t have to talk so loud.
“Well, in this country I was telling you about, there was a young man who had saved some money by working hard, but he didn’t save it fast enough to suit himself. He thought so much about it that he would stop in the middle of his work, and sit and study about it an hour at a time.
“He thought about it so much that he began to dream about it, and one night he dreamed that he got in a boat and went to an island on which there was a mountain of gold that shone and glistened in the sun. He was very unhappy when he woke in the morning and found it was nothing but a dream.
“He didn’t go to work that day, but wandered about doing nothing. That night he had the same dream. He had the same dream the next night; and the morning after, the first person he saw was an old man who had stopped to rest on the doorsteps. This old man would have been like other old men but for one thing. His beard was so long that he had to part it in the middle of his chin, pass it under each arm, cross the wisps on his back, and bring them around in front again, where the two ends were tied together with a bow of red ribbon.
“‘How are you, my young friend, and how goes it?’ said the old man, smiling pleasantly. ‘You look as if you had been having wonderful dreams.’
“‘So I have, gran’sir,’ replied the young man.
“‘Well, a dream isn’t worth a snap of your finger unless it comes true, and a dream never comes true until you have dreamed it three times.’
“‘I have dreamed mine three times, gran’sir, and yet it is impossible that it should come true.’
“‘Nonsense! Nothing is impossible. Tell me your dream.’
“So the young man told the old man his dream.