My grown daughter is pretty. It is the 17th century or so (Little Bo-Peep dresses). Three young princes are captivated by her and join us for lunch at a beautiful table. The table has wooden boards or flaps where each person sits. You reach down there and bend it until it folds up into a square. I do that. The boy's father, the King, comes by, and is intrigued with my wit and innocence. I hardly notice him in the sense that I fawn over him. I'm aware I like him and he's handsome and am glad he chooses to stay with us for lunch. We chat. Later I go walking and I see a series of little deformed boys. Their tongues hang out to the side, their legs are unusable and thin and spread out, like they have CP but they don't. Some tongues go to the right and some to the left, but the basic deformity is the same. I wonder how they can sit up like they do without leg support. Now my daughter and I go for a walk, only it's me, alone. I had decided to think the daughter with me because I remembered a woman in this time period should never walk unattended. I come to the house/palace of the King. He's inside watching me. He has a big museum display in front and I stop and watch and look, very interested in all the displays. I watch little miniature weaving looms working and am entranced. I stay a long while and go clear around to the back of the exhibit, looking at stuff there. He comes out to join me and I look up startled. I say, "Oh! I didn't see you." He says with a sweet smile, "I thought it best to come out and supervise when someone is so intently inspecting my family background." I smile and agree that could be uncomfortable. He is pleased I have such interest in him and his stuff. We walk now toward the house and we enter a room. He says it's the goose house where he'd sneak into the palace through it as a child. In a side room I see a big Mother Goose peering at me suspiciously. I see feathers (white) on the floor where I'm standing. The King says, "When I was a boy, sometimes she'd let me pet her babies." I walk into her room, holding a pink stuffed baby doll. The King says, "She won't let you touch her babies." I hold out my dolly for her to touch, glad it's just a dolly and not a real baby, just in case she hurts it. She sniffs and then touches it, and then lets me touch a baby dolly of hers (blue stuffed). The King is impressed and I feel happy and pleased and honored. The king and I are going to be married. We walk on toward the palace.