asked Cecily sympathetically . `` Was she pretty ? '' `` No , '' conceded Peter reluctantly , `` she was n't pretty -- but she looked like the woman in that picture the Story Girl 's father sent her last week -- the one with the shiny ring round her head and the baby in her lap . I 've seen Aunt Jane look at me just like that woman looks at her baby . Ma never looks so . Poor ma is too busy washing . I wish I could dream of my Aunt Jane . I never do . '' '' ` Dream of the dead , you 'll hear of the living , ' '' quoted Felix oracularly . `` I dreamed last night that I threw a lighted match into that keg of gunpowder in Mr. Cook 's store at Markdale , '' said Peter . `` It blew up -- and everything blew up -- and they fished me out of the mess -- but I woke up before I 'd time to find out if I was killed or not . '' `` One is so apt to wake up just as things get interesting , '' remarked the Story Girl discontentedly . `` I dreamed last night that I had really truly curly hair , '' said Cecily mournfully . `` And oh , I was so happy ! It was dreadful to wake up and find it as straight as ever . '' Felix , that sober , solid fellow , dreamed constantly of flying through the air . His descriptions of his aerial flights over the tree-tops of dreamland always filled us with envy . None of the rest of us could ever compass such a dream , not even the Story Girl , who might have been expected to dream of flying if anybody did . Felix had a knack of dreaming anyhow , and his dream book , while suffering somewhat in comparison of literary style , was about the best of the lot when it came to subject matter . Cecily 's might be more dramatic , but Felix 's was more amusing .
The dream which we all counted his masterpiece was the one XXXXX which a menagerie had camped in the orchard and the rhinoceros chased Aunt Janet around and around the Pulpit Stone , but turned into an inoffensive pig when it was on the point of catching her .
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