After a long search, it is so painful to walk out of a bookstore emptyhanded that one is tempted to buy any old book to soothe one’s rattled feelings. Today I almost ended up with Freud’s weighty tome on the interpretation of dreams. A nice edition, too. All I would have done with it anyhow would be to poke fun at poor Freud. Charity ultimately prevailed, but only just. My feeble reward for the long search.