Elena was to be dressed as a shepherdess, and Francisco as a Spanish king. Their mother had neglected Guillerma and her trousseau one entire day, in order to go with the children to help them select their costumes and masks; for no one enters into the streets in costume without a mask or domino.
The morning of the day on which the great parade was to take place the children spent, dressed in their old costumes, playing with the neighbours' children in the streets.
Although the law had forbidden the custom of throwing water at pedestrians, the number of people who were drenched by unexpected pails of water thrown from upper balconies was not lessened, and the children broke dozens of pomos, or rubber balls filled with perfumed water, on each other and strangers, as well, who chanced to pass.
After siesta that afternoon, Elena and Francisco began their preparations for the parade; and when the gayly decorated car drove up about six o'clock with a fiery red representation of His Majesty, the devil, on the front seat and a pierrot or harlequin with one half of his costume a vivid green and the other half yellow, Elena and Francisco were dressed and ready.
The harlequin jumped out and bowed low to the ground, and Elena ran back into the house, for she was sure this comical looking fellow could never be José. But she was reassured when he lifted his mask, and soon the huge car was puffing along the street with the red driver in front and a dainty little shepherdess, a small king in velvet, gold lace and a crown, and a harlequin in green and yellow, all sitting on the back seat, throwing confetti and waving banners and shouting at the people gathered on the corners or on the balconies of the houses.
Enrique took them up one street and down another, among the crowds of the other carriages and automobiles, all full of gayly dressed maskers bent on making as much noise as possible.
As it grew darker the streets began to blaze with arches of electric lights, many of the bulbs being swung inside Chinese lanterns. The crowd grew denser and many times they were caught in a mass of carriages, that could move neither one way nor the other. Mounted police were everywhere, trying to disperse the people where the crowds were too thick, and even they were treated to the contents of hundreds of pomos until their horsetail plumes and scarlet lined capes dripped perfume like water.
At eight Enrique stopped the car in a side street opening on to the great Plaza, where the procession was to form; his plan being to allow the children a view of part of the parade from this vantage point, and then to slip out the side street and enter the corso from the rear.
It was nine o'clock when the bands of music took their places at the head of the procession and they were followed by large fancifully decorated wagons, filled with young ladies dressed to represent well known allegories.
Then came floats with papier-mache figures caricaturing political events in the history of the Republic. These were followed by companies of horsemen dressed in every sort of fantastic costume; victorias filled with merry maskers, floats with goddesses, and burlesqued well-known public characters. King Carnival was seated on a high throne, very handsomely draped, and drawn by sixteen pure white horses. When the children grew tired of looking, Enrique joined the procession itself, and the hearts of Elena and Francisco were beating high with excitement, for their ambition was realized—to be a part of the great Carnival corso.