III

THE LUXURY OF READING IN BED

Last night, having written what you have just read about the
benefits of fairy literature, I bethought me to renew my
acquaintance with some of those tales which so often have
delighted and solaced me. So I piled at least twenty chosen
volumes on the table at the head of my bed, and I daresay it was
nigh daylight when I fell asleep. I began my entertainment with
several pages from Keightley's ``Fairy Mythology,'' and followed
it up with random bits from Crofton Croker's ``Traditions of the
South of Ireland,'' Mrs. Carey's ``Legends of the French
Provinces,'' Andrew Lang's Green, Blue and Red fairy books,
Laboulaye's ``Last Fairy Tales,'' Hauff's ``The Inn in the
Spessart,'' Julia Goddard's ``Golden Weathercock,'' Frere's
``Eastern Fairy Legends,'' Asbjornsen's ``Folk Tales,'' Susan
Pindar's ``Midsummer Fays,'' Nisbit Bain's ``Cossack Fairy
Tales,'' etc., etc.

I fell asleep with a copy of Villamaria's fairy stories in my
hands, and I had a delightful dream wherein, under the protection
and guidance of my fairy godmother, I undertook the rescue of a
beautiful princess who had been enchanted by a cruel witch and
was kept in prison by the witch's son, a hideous ogre with seven
heads, whose companions were four equally hideous dragons.