For, pets, do you read between the lines and understand that this wonderful procession was the result of truly artistic skill?—that to imitate perfectly to the eye, to represent exactly in motion all these living creatures, and yet conceal within a boy or man who invisibly moved them, required all the delicacy of perception and nicety of workmanship of French eyes and fingers? Think you that your little fingers and bright eyes will ever attain so much.
Besides, all this was also a great outlay of thousands of francs. For Nice aroused herself to excel in Carnival, and offered large prizes—one of five thousand francs, another of four, another of three—for the most perfect representations.
Nowhere in Italy was there anything to compare with Nice. And I doubt if you would see again in Carnival what would so perfectly delight your young eyes, or so quicken your perception of artistic skill.
We look at our watches. Two hours yet; but we long to taste the fun on foot. So we fling our last confetti, fill hair and button-holes and hands with our sweet nosegays of geranium, sweet alyssum, mignonette and pansies—mementoes of the fight,—then descend to the sidewalk to press our way along the crowded court.
More and more to see! and, last of all, Carnival tossed and tumbled in effigy until his death by drowning or burning.
But we must be early at the station. Early, indeed! Peppered and pelted all the way, tweaked and shot at; but ever and always with only the harmless confetti and soft nosegays.
Sure that we are the first to leave, sure that no others are there before us, we pass into the outer baggage-room. Fifty more are there pressed hard against the closed door.
The crowd swells; hundreds are behind us; we can scarcely keep our feet. Yet what a good-natured crowd! The hour for the train to leave passes. By and by the closed door opens a crack; a gilt-banded arm is thrust through and one person taken out, and the solemn door closed again.
So, one by one, we ooze through, pass the turnstile in the passage under surveillance of the keen-eyed officer, and are admitted into the saloon, which is also locked.