imagine that they were Johnny Mullens, the washwoman's son, and Polly
Flinders, the charwoman's little girl, and so on.

The Mayor's daughter, who had chosen the character of a goose-girl,
looked so like a true one that one could hardly dream she ever was
anything else. She was, ordinarily, a slender, dainty little lady,
rather tall for her age. She now looked very short and stubbed and
brown, just as if she had been accustomed to tend geese in all sorts
of weather. It was so with all the others--the Red Riding-hoods, the
princesses, the Bo Peeps, and with every one of the characters who
came to the Mayor's ball; Red Riding-hood looked round, with big,
frightened eyes, all ready to spy the wolf, and carried her little
pat of butter and pot of honey gingerly in her basket; Bo Peep's eyes
looked red with weeping for the loss of her sheep; and the princesses
swept about so grandly in their splendid brocaded trains, and held
their crowned heads so high that people half believed them to be true
princesses.

But there never was anything like the fun at the Mayor's Christmas
ball. The fiddlers fiddled and fiddled, and the children danced and
danced on the beautiful waxed floors. The Mayor, with his family and a
few grand guests, sat on a dais covered with blue velvet at one end of
the dancing hall, and watched the sport. They were all delighted. The
Mayor's eldest daughter sat in front and clapped her little soft white
hands. She was a tall, beautiful young maiden, and wore a white dress,
and a little cap woven of blue violets on her yellow hair. Her name
was Violetta.

[Illustration: THERE NEVER WAS ANYTHING LIKE THE FUN AT THE MAYOR'S
CHRISTMAS BALL.]