"Dreaming, most likely," replied the psychologist.
"Why do you not dissect her unconscious mind and see of what her dreams are made?"
"Get out!" cried the psychologist, "I am a married man and I do not want to know of what her dreams are made."
When Gud left the shop of the psychologist it was growing dark in the Market of Knowledge. So he waited until the lights in the houses were being extinguished and the people were falling asleep.
The next morning when Gud entered the shop of his old friend, the prophet, he carried a sack, the contents of which he dumped on the table.
"What are these things?" demanded the prophet.
"They are unconscious minds," said Gud, "and they are full of dreams. I want you to dissect them and analyze them and see how the dreams are made and what are the elements of them. Thus you shall make a science of dreams to sell to the people and get gain."
So saying, Gud left the shop and walked up the side of a grassy mountain where all the birds were singing and all the ewes were lambing and the little toadstools were pushing up great rocks with the power of the life that was in them. And Gud lay down upon the new-grown grass and fell asleep, and slept till winter came. When the snow began to fall upon the feet of Gud, he dreamed a dream.
Upon awakening, Gud wondered what the meaning of the dream might be; and thus he recalled the Market of Knowledge, and went straightway to the shop of the prophet to have his dream interpreted. As he approached the shop he saw a line of people on the sidewalk, and took his place in the line. As the line moved through the door each one handed the doorkeeper a sum of money. But Gud said he was a friend of the prophet and was permitted to enter so that he could hear the dreams being interpreted.
A man said: "I dreamed that I once misspelled a word by omitting the letter 'M.'