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Updated: May 25, 2025
Meg started to put her children to bed, only to find that her fertility of imagination in the afternoon was to prove her undoing in the evening; for her memory was by no means as reliable as her powers of invention. Little Fay urgently demanded the whole cycle of little Mophez' dleams over again.
"I should think," Meg said thoughtfully, "that he dreamed he must cry very quietly lest the Egyptians should hear him." "Deah littoo Mophez ... and what nelse?" Meg was tempted and fell. It was very easy for her to invent "dleams" for "deah littoo Mophez" lying in his bulrush ark among the flags at the river's edge.
"It was Mophez in the bulrushes, and he didn't have no dreams. That was Jophez." "How d'you know," Fay persisted, "that poor little Mophez had no dleams? Why shouldn't he have dleams same as Jophez?" "It doesn't say so." "It doesn't say he didn't have dleams. He had dleams, I tell you; I know he had. Muts nicer dleams van Jophez." "Let's ask Meg; she'll know." Jan gave a sigh of relief.
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