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.
The supper was served at midnight--and such a supper! The mountains of
pink and white ices, and the cakes with sugar castles and flower
gardens on the tops of them, and the charming shapes of gold and
ruby-coloured jellies. There were wonderful bonbons which even the
Mayor's daughter did not have every day; and all sorts of fruits, fresh
and candied. They had cowslip wine in green glasses, and elderberry
wine in red, and they drank each other's health. The glasses held a
thimbleful each; the Mayor's wife thought that was all the wine they
ought to have. Under each child's plate there was a pretty present and
every one had a basket of bonbons and cake to carry home.
At four o'clock the fiddlers put up their fiddles and the children went
home; fairies and shepherdesses and pages and princesses all jabbering
gleefully about the splendid time they had had.
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