leaped from their places and began to play, accordions of all sizes
joined them, the drumsticks beat upon the drums, the penny trumpets
sounded, and the yellow flutes took up the melody on high notes, and
bore it away through the trees. It was weird fairy-music, but quite
delightful. The nearest approach to it that I know of above ground is
to hear a wild dreamy air very well whistled to a pianoforte
accompaniment.

"When the music began, all the toys rose. The dolls jumped down and
began to dance. The poodles barked, the pannier donkeys wagged their
ears, the wind-mills turned, the puzzles put themselves together, the
bricks built houses, the balls flew from side to side, the battledores
and shuttlecocks kept it up among themselves, and the skipping-ropes
went round, the hoops ran off, and the sticks ran after them, the
cobbler's wax at the tails of all the green frogs gave way, and they
jumped at the same moment, whilst an old-fashioned go-cart ran madly
about with nobody inside. It was most exhilarating.

"I soon became aware that the beetle was once more at my elbow.

"'There are some beautiful toys here,' I said.

"'Well, yes,' he replied, 'and some odd-looking ones too. You see,
whatever has been really used by any child as a plaything gets a right
to come down here in the end; and there is some very queer company, I
assure you. Look there.'

"I looked, and said, 'It seems to be a potato.'

"'So it is,' said the beetle. 'It belonged to an Irish child in one of