The investigation of these dreams is also advisable from another standpoint.  The dreams of children are of this nature; they have a meaning, and are not bizarre.  This, by the way, is a further objection to reducing dreams to a dissociation of cerebral activity in sleep, for why should such a lowering of psychical functions belong to the nature of sleep in adults, but not in children?  We are, however, fully justified in expecting that the explanation of psychical processes in children, essentially simplified as they may be, should serve as an indispensable preparation towards the psychology of the adult.

I shall therefore cite some examples of dreams which I have gathered from children.  A girl of nineteen months was made to go without food for a day because she had been sick in the morning, and, according to nurse, had made herself ill through eating strawberries.  During the night, after her day of fasting, she was heard calling out her name during sleep, and adding:  “Tawberry, eggs, pap.”  She is dreaming that she is eating, and selects out of her menu exactly what she supposes she will not get much of just now.

The same kind of dream about a forbidden dish was that of a little boy of twenty-two months.  The day before he was told to offer his uncle a present of a small basket of cherries, of which the child was, of course, only allowed one to taste.  He woke up with the joyful news:  “Hermann eaten up all the cherries.”

A girl of three and a half years had made during the day a sea trip which was too short for her, and she cried when she had to get out of the boat.  The next morning her story was that during the night she had been on the sea, thus continuing the interrupted trip.

A boy of five and a half years was not at all pleased with his party during a walk in the Dachstein region.  Whenever a new peak came into sight he asked if that were the Dachstein, and, finally, refused to accompany the party to the waterfall.  His behavior was ascribed to fatigue; but a better explanation was forthcoming when the next morning he told his dream:  he had ascended the Dachstein.  Obviously he expected the ascent of the Dachstein to be the object of the excursion, and was vexed by not getting a glimpse of the mountain.  The dream gave him what the day had withheld.  The dream of a girl of six was similar; her father had cut short the walk before reaching the promised objective on account of the lateness of the hour.  On the way back she noticed a signpost giving the name of another place for excursions; her father promised to take her there also some other day.  She greeted her father next day with the news that she had dreamt that her father had been with her to both places.

What is common in all these dreams is obvious.  They completely satisfy wishes excited during the day which remain unrealized.  They are simply and undisguisedly realizations of wishes.