And thus it began: First came the Court Jester, dancing and bowing and leaping with the utmost grace; then followed three clowns; after them came three Shanghai chickens, each about as big as a horse, and dancing as gayly as if they knew they were too big to be eaten. Then came Prince Carnival himself, in his broken egg on the nest, which was drawn by his attendants in fantastic costumes. After him came an old rooster and an old hen.
Then came a carriage drawn by two live white goats, containing a boy and girl gorgeously dressed, and after them a band of Gypsy Maidens. But what have we here? A lot of little old things with blue-gray gowns and red hoods and blue-gray beards, and behind them a wonderful being, riding on a chariot of gray rocks in which the gold dust glitters. Surely this is the Queen of Fairy-land.
Then came Aurora, the rosy Goddess of Dawn; Zuleika, the beautiful Grecian Princess; and behind her were actually twenty babies in their night dresses and night-caps, with pink sashes. What little things they were! Some of them were so small that they could hardly toddle fast enough to keep up with the procession. And last of all came the Gardener in his cart, drawn by a live donkey, and attended by a group of Flower Maidens.
Then the dancing began. Whenever Prince Carnival waved his hand, a beautiful being stepped forward and danced in the most enchanting fashion, until the whole building rang with the applause that greeted each. There was the Queen, of Fairy-land, who came without her little gray-bearded attendants, and danced beautifully. But the little gnomes soon missed her, for before she had finished they ran up and huddled themselves together to watch her. Then, when she rested, they began their dance. It was just such a dance as you would expect little imps of mischief to perform. They didn't dance at all. They simply romped. They played "snap-the-whip," chased each other about the floor, and at last left the stage more on their heads than their feet, for they all turned head over heels time after time, until they were back among the crowd of fairy folk again.
A little later, the twenty babies in their night dresses came on, and they tried to dance, and were doing very nicely until, as they were all standing in a line, the end one fell, and so they all fell and knocked one another over, just like a row of tin soldiers. After that they gave up dancing, and just frolicked as the gnomes had done, until five little soldiers came, when they retreated in just such another head-over-heels fashion as the gnomes had.
The most wonderful dancing of all was that of Zuleika, the Grecian Princess, who was about twelve years old, and was dressed in a beautiful costume of blue and white satin. She was attended by a group of Grecian maidens who performed the brilliant cymbal-dance. The applause was loud and long, and hardly had Zuleika collected the beautiful bouquets, when little Prince Carnival waved his wand, and five mysterious figures appeared, arrayed in long cloaks covering them from head to foot. The Prince stepped forward, and going from one to another, he waved his wand over them, and they threw off their long cloaks, and appeared as five beautiful little fairies, representing the Five Continents—Europe, Asia, Africa, America, and Australia. Then each came forward and danced, but the prettiest dance of all was danced by America, who had a bow and arrow, like an Indian.
It was not long after this that Fairy-land broke loose. I was standing watching the brilliant scene, and wishing that I might remain in Fairy-land forever, when I heard a sweet little voice saying, "Please let me pass." I looked round, and it was—could I be awake, or was I dreaming?—yes, it was the Queen of Fairy-land herself asking me to let her pass. I drew back, and she went right up to a beautiful lady, who called her "My child," and kissed her. Happy lady to be the mother of the Queen of Fairy-land!
And so they were not fairies, after all, but real children, and they had mothers, who kissed them, and called them "My child," "My darling!"
Did the fairies we read about have mothers? I think not. So much the happier, then, these fairies. And since they are prettier far than any of the fairies the story-books tell us about, and dance more gracefully, and are altogether far more wonderful, therefore I believe in fairies—this kind of fairies—from this time forth, and swear allegiance to my sovereign lord Prince Carnival and all his merry band.