in every window, and beyond them one could see the chandeliers of gold
and crystal blazing with light. The fiddles were squeaking merrily,
and lovely little forms flew past the windows in time to the music.

There were gorgeous carpets laid from the door to the street, and
carriages were constantly arriving, and fresh guests tripping over
them. They were all children. The Mayor was giving a Christmas
Masquerade to-night, to all the children in the city, the poor as well
as the rich. The preparation for this ball had been making an immense
sensation for the last three months. Placards had been up in the most
conspicuous points in the city, and all the daily newspapers had
at least a column devoted to it, headed with THE MAYOR'S CHRISTMAS
MASQUERADE in very large letters.

The Mayor had promised to defray the expenses of all the poor children
whose parents were unable to do so, and the bills for their costumes
were directed to be sent in to him.

Of course there was a great deal of excitement among the regular
costumers of the city, and they all resolved to vie with one another
in being the most popular, and the best patronized on this gala
occasion. But the placards and the notices had not been out a week
before a new Costumer appeared, who cast all the others into the shade
directly. He set up his shop on the corner of one of the principal
streets, and hung up his beautiful costumes in the windows. He was a
little fellow, not much larger than a boy of ten. His cheeks were as
red as roses, and he had on a long curling wig as white as snow.
He wore a suit of crimson velvet knee-breeches, and a little
swallow-tailed coat with beautiful golden buttons. Deep lace ruffles
fell over his slender white hands, and he wore elegant knee-buckles