Tales of Three Hemispheres

“Nothing like changing your illusions,” she said, “or you grow tired. London’s a fine place but one wants to see the elfin mountains sometimes.”“Then you know London?” I said.“Of course I do,” she said. “I can dream as well as you. You are not the only person that can imagine London.” Men were toiling dreadfully in her garden; it was in the heat of the day and they were digging with spades; she suddenly turned from me to beat one of them over the back with a long black stick that she carried. “Even my poets go to London sometimes,” she said to me.“Why did you beat that man?” I said.“To make him work,” she answered.“But he is tired,” I said.“Of course he is,” said she.And I looked and saw that the earth was difficult and dry and that every spadeful that the tired men lifted was full of pearls; but some men sat quite still and watched the butterflies that flitted about the garden and the old witch did not beat them with her stick. And when I asked her who the diggers were she said, “These are my poets, they are digging for pearls.” And when I asked her what so many pearls were for she said to me: “To feed the pigs of course.”“But do the pigs like pearls?” I said to her.“Of course they don’t,” she said.””

— Lord Dunsany