One autumn afternoon, the Montreal writer Paul
Xylinides was playing outside with his niece when she
called out to him to chase her. "If I catch you," he
warned, "I shall turn you into a princess "
"No " she answered, as she ran, "I don't want to be a
princess " but it was too late, for her uncle had already
caught her.
"Remember, my child, imaginary days don't grow
beneath trees - you have to climb up and pluck them."