KENNETH looked at it angrily, then turned over the other pages. They were just the same as the first one. He tore up the sheets and threw them on the ground. It was only an April Fool letter, after all!
“April Fool!” cried a voice, echoing the same hateful words. “April Fool! Ha! ha! What a joke!” It was a funny little voice, louder than those of the flowers, and, instead of being silvery sweet like theirs, it was harsh and disagreeable. Kenneth glanced up, and there, perched on the railing of the summer-house, was the queerest little fellow, making the most horrible faces. With a bound the figure sprang inside, and Kenneth saw him more clearly. He was certainly a fairy, for he had wings, gauzy and beautiful, growing from his shoulders. But his dress was unlike that of any fairy whom Kenneth had met. It reminded him, however, of pictures that he had sometimes seen in books. This fairy wore a suit half of red and half of yellow; one leg and one shoe were red and the other yellow. His doublet was divided likewise, and likewise the funny hood which he wore about his shoulders. The borders of his costume were cut into points, and from every point hung a little bell that jingled and jangled mischievously whenever the imp moved about—which was continually. His cap had two long pointed ears, and in his hand he carried a wand, on the end of which was a copy of himself dressed in red and yellow, and tinkly with many bells. He was a very funny figure, and his mouth stretched from ear to ear in a grin which made Kenneth laugh, too. But Kenneth soon stopped laughing; for there was something about the imp’s smile that was not kindly, and that made one half afraid.
“Who are you?” asked Kenneth, trying to seem very bold. “And what are you laughing at? I don’t see anything so very funny at this moment.”
“Oh, don’t you?” grinned the imp. “April Fool! I do. I am April Fool. Why, don’t you know me?” And turning around he showed Kenneth a large placard, such as he had himself often made, pinned to one of the points of the imp’s doublet. “April Fool!” it read. Kenneth began to understand.
“Oh, you are April Fool, are you?” he said. “I never saw you before.”
“Ho! You never saw me? No, but you have used my name often enough. You remember April Fool’s day every year? Aha! Those were good tricks you played, though to be sure most of them were old enough—old as I am, and that is old indeed, I can tell you, my little joker. But they are good jokes, are they not? One never tires of them, does one?” And again he grinned at Kenneth maliciously.
“I AM APRIL FOOL”
“N-no,” said Kenneth, doubtfully, looking again at the pieces of the torn April Fool letter and rubbing his eyes, which still smarted from the snuff. “But I think jokes are funnier when one looks on, don’t you?”
“Ha! ha!” laughed the imp. “That is the best joke of all. Why, some folk seem to think as you do. But not I! Now I love a good joke for its own sake better than anything else in the world. I am always in it, for I am the joke itself. Ha, ha!”