From my dreams I reconstructed for him pictures of that vanished world in which I do believe I once lived.

I told him of the terrors of that early time, of Lop-Ear and the pranks we played, of the gibbering councils, and of the Fire People and their squatting places.
He laughed at me, and jeered, and told me tales of ghosts and of the dead that walk at night.

But mostly did he laugh at my feeble fancy.
I told him more, and he laughed the harder.

I swore in all earnestness that these things were so, and he began to look upon me queerly.

Also, he gave amazing garblings of my tales to our playmates, until all began to look upon me queerly.
It was a bitter experience, but I learned my lesson.