She had dreamed that she had died. Her mother had put her in a coffin,
carried her to the cemetery and then proceeded to bury her. Her mother had
first forced something into her mouth (it seemed to be a whitish powder),
and then lowered her into the grave and filled the grave with dirt. That is
all that she could remember.

I shall not enter into a complete analysis or interpretation of this dream.
There is no doubt, however, to every psychoanalyst who has devoted his
attention to dreams, that the analysis of such a dream should prove most
interesting. It is also apparent that by taking up the various elements of
the dream and following them untiringly along the various trails and
ramifications which lead on in various directions, one could unmask the
entire life history of this twelve-year-old girl.

I wish, however, to direct the reader's attention to only one aspect of this
dream--the death of the dreamer. She denied that she feared death or that
she thought of death because of her heart disease or from any other cause. I
next inquired: "Do you wish or have you ever wished you were dead?" The
reaction of the girl was immediate and intense. She stood frightened,
embarrassed; her eyelids twitched convulsively in rapid succession, her face
gradually assumed a suppressed crying expression, tears came to her eyes,
they soon flowed freely and rolled down her cheeks; she sobbed, and, through
her tears, she uttered, almost inarticulately, the one word, "Yes." A
convulsive, inspiratory grunt, a bashful, receding, turning away of the head
and body, a raising of the hands to cover her face and hide her tears, and
hasty, running steps to get away, while murmuring audibly "Let me go away,"
followed rapidly one upon the other. I gently seized her hand, calmed and
reassured her. And, through sobs and tears, in almost inaudible tones, in
starts and spurts, and reluctantly replying to questions which were forced
upon her, producing replies which were literally drawn from her against her