Then followed a long, long series of congratulations and good wishes ere it was possible to adjourn to the great dining-room in which the wedding feast was spread. It must have been quite six o’clock before everyone was in place. Any observant person, looking round the room, would then have noted a curious fact. The number seated at every table except the one at which the Bride and Bridegroom [[87]]sat, was exactly seven. At the chief table there were nine. This arrangement was in no wise accidental. In point of fact it was done deliberately, the Fairies, like the ancient peoples, having the greatest regard and respect for numbers and their meanings. To them, three is the perfect number—and three multiplied by three, which is nine, the limit to which perfection can go. Never at any time therefore do they seat together more than nine; and then only when they are very distinguished persons indeed. In like manner they look upon seven as God’s own number; the one that means rest after labour; for, as you will remember, in six days God made Heaven and Earth, and on the seventh day He rested. Furthermore, they know that just as in the Alphabet, A, B and C, contain the lines and curves of all the other letters, so in ordinary numbers, 1, 2 and 3, contain all the lines and curves of all the others. But what impresses them most are the following two remarkable facts. Firstly, if you double over the first three numbers, you cover up 4, 5 and 6, and arrive at 7, the perfect number, the one that in itself holds the lines and curves of all the others! Secondly, if you double over the first three letters of the Alphabet you cover up D E F, and arrive at G, the seventh letter, the perfect letter that in itself embraces the lines and curves of all the others—the initial letter of the mightiest name in the Universe: its Creator, God!
The Fairies, however, were so used to being seated in the way described, and so understood the reason for it, that in effect they took no notice; but gave themselves up to the full enjoyment of the splendid fare provided for them.
After they had partaken of as much as they desired, the Prince, always alert, nodded his head to the waiting attendants, and in less time than it takes to tell it, the tables were cleared, and there began the various entertainments that were to grace the evening.
First, the Band, which played a most engaging selection of soft harmonious airs, sweet enough to have made the stars of Heaven brighten could they have heard them. Then came the first of the “Five Story Tellers”—the most popular persons in Fairyland.
These Story Tellers, who need never lack an audience, are the most ancient of all the Fairies—so old (though they do not look it) [[88]]that they seem to have existed ever since the World began. What they were first called, no one now remembers. Some think they once had names which meant Faith, Love, Truth, Knowledge and Art; but be that as it may, to-day they are called “Touch,” “Taste,” “Sight,” “Smell,” and “Hearing.” Whenever they tell a story they always begin it in the same way. First they give the title of the tale, and then, as in all Fairy Stories, they say: “Once upon a time, a long while ago,” such and such a thing happened. So, when “Touch” began his Tale, he being first to be asked, this is what he said:—
THE SKYLARK’S STORY
“Once upon a time, a long while ago, I was passing over a field. Pausing for a moment to look at a flower, a Lark fell palpitating at my feet, hot and weary with singing. Taking him up in my left hand, whilst I gently fanned him with my right, I said, ‘Tell me, Lark, what is your story, and why do you sing?’ And when he was cool again, this is the tale he told:—
“ ‘Once I was an egg, and I lay in a tiny nest among the grasses of the field. The shell, within which I lived, was very small and somewhat dark, but warm! Occasionally, however, I could see just a little glimpse of light; and now and then I could indistinctly hear my father talking or singing to my mother. But I couldn’t move, and I couldn’t speak.
“ ‘Then came a day when I thought I heard an awful crash. It was so loud and thunderous that it seemed to me as if the sky had fallen. At the time it happened I was almost asleep, I think, for I appeared to have waked with such a sudden start, that I pushed my beak clean through the shell in which I lived; broke it in half; and there I sat, blinking and winking at the sunlight in the most stupid manner conceivable.