off his feathered cap, made a low bow to the king and queen, then,
without speaking a word, he sprang on to the foremost branch of a white
Mayflower bush, which was in full blossom, and immediately his little
companions perched themselves on different branches behind him, and
began tuning their tiny instruments.

The children, full of glee, arranged themselves for a dance, the band
struck up "Sir Roger de Coverley," and away they all went, their little
feet keeping time to the music as truly as the leader's tiny baton. They
danced, and they danced, and they danced, till they were too tired to
dance any more, then they flung themselves down to rest; upon which the
little leader of the band jumped down from his perch and placed himself
on a broad smooth leaf, that two of his band spread on the grass
opposite to where sat the king and queen.

He made a low bow to their majesties, the band struck up, and the little
fellow commenced dancing a _pas seul_. If you had seen him prancing and
capering about the leaf, now with his arms akimbo, going jauntily round
and gracefully bending his body from side to side, keeping time to the
music as he did so; now suddenly clasping his hands above his head,
whirl rapidly round and round till he got to the front edge of the leaf,
and then, springing into the air, come down on the very tips of his
pointed shoes; if you had seen all this I think you would have laughed
and shouted as loudly as did Rosetta, Minette, and all the rest of the
little folks. When the droll fellow had finished his dance he flourished
his feathered cap, made a low bow, and backed to where his companions
were standing. The gourd slowly opened again, and each little fellow
making his bow, popped in as quickly as he had popped out; then the
gourd closed, and nothing more was seen of the little musicians that
day.