George ate cake and jelly and pies and jam and candies and cookies. George never went to bed with a pain in his head. One evening, after he had vainly entreated his parents for a few more slices of pie at dinner. George determined to take matters in his own hands. Accordingly, he arose out of his bed in the dead of night, and, making his way to the pantry, stuffed himself with a wild and awful variety of sweets. When George betook himself again to bed after his unlawful repast, he was not destined to enjoy unbroken repose. George had a nightmare. It seemed to him that he was wandering through a country which was like, and yet curiously unlike the surroundings to which he was accustomed. A large ginger ale bottle and a sugar bowl accompanied him on his trip. Whenever they happened upon the hills of pies, the mammoth puddings and the huge cakes with which this strange country was filled, the bottle and bowl insisted on George eating them. At length, George, in a violent attempt to escape fell through the crust of an enormous cake, and woke up, on the floor.