In another place there was the interior of Old Mother Hubbard's cottage, with the little black dog just receiving a fine morsel, and with Tom and his mother looking on with great joy.
In another there was a mean cottage interior—the home of Hansel and Grettel—with the parents holding their son and daughter close to them.
In another was the dreadful King John, pondering moodily on his throne.
In another there was the kitchen of Cinderella's house, with Cinderella holding her skirt back and looking in ecstacy at two perfect crystal slippers on her feet, while her mother and sisters and a perfectly fascinating prince looked on with rapture.
In another there was Everychild, being held close to his mother's side, while the father stood apart, his hands in his trousers pockets and a complacent smile on his lips. There was the lamp shade with the red beads, and the clock like a state capitol, and everything.
As the curtains went up the persons in the various groups looked out upon Truth, who asked in a perfectly assured tone:
"Good people, tell me: am I wearing a mask?"
Let me close my tale by leaving the answer to you, dear reader.
What is your decision?
Does she wear a mask?