The Childrens Book of Christmas Stories | Page 8

a string was untied it tied itself up again into a bowknot. The
parents were dreadfully frightened. But the children were so tired out
they finally let them go to bed in their fancy costumes and thought
perhaps they would come off better in the morning. So Red
Riding-hood went to bed in her little red cloak holding fast to her
basket full of dainties for her grandmother, and Bo-Peep slept with her
crook in her hand.
The children all went to bed readily enough, they were so very tired,
even though they had to go in this strange array. All but the
fairies--they danced and pirouetted and would not be still.
"We want to swing on the blades of grass," they kept saying, "and play
hide and seek in the lily cups, and take a nap between the leaves of the
roses."
The poor charwomen and coal-heavers, whose children the fairies were
for the most part, stared at them in great distress. They did not know
what to do with these radiant, frisky little creatures into which their

Johnnys and their Pollys and Betseys were so suddenly transformed.
But the fairies went to bed quietly enough when daylight came, and
were soon fast asleep.
There was no further trouble till twelve o'clock, when all the children
woke up. Then a great wave of alarm spread over the city. Not one of
the costumes would come off then. The buttons buttoned as fast as they
were unbuttoned; the pins quilted themselves in as fast as they were
pulled out; and the strings flew round like lightning and twisted
themselves into bow-knots as fast as they were untied.
And that was not the worst of it; every one of the children seemed to
have become, in reality, the character which he or she had assumed.
The Mayor's daughter declared she was going to tend her geese out in
the pasture, and the shepherdesses sprang out of their little beds of
down, throwing aside their silken quilts, and cried that they must go out
and watch their sheep. The princesses jumped up from their straw
pallets, and wanted to go to court; and all the rest of them likewise.
Poor little Red Riding-hood sobbed and sobbed because she couldn't go
and carry her basket to her grandmother, and as she didn't have any
grandmother she couldn't go, of course, and her parents were very
much doubled. It was all so mysterious and dreadful. The news spread
very rapidly over the city, and soon a great crowd gathered around the
new Costumer's shop for every one thought he must be responsible for
all this mischief.
The shop door was locked; but they soon battered it down with stones.
When they rushed in the Costumer was not there; he had disappeared
with all his wares. Then they did not know what to do. But it was
evident that they must do something before long for the state of affairs
was growing worse and worse.
The Mayor's little daughter braced her back up against the tapestried
wall, and planted her two feet in their thick shoes firmly. "I will go and
tend my geese," she kept crying. "I won't eat my breakfast. I won't go
out in the park. I won't go to school. I'm going to tend my geese--I will,
I will, I will!"

And the princesses trailed their rich trains over the rough unpainted
floors in their parents' poor little huts, and held their crowned heads
very high and demanded to be taken to court. The princesses were
mostly geese-girls when they were their proper selves, and their geese
were suffering, and their poor parents did not know what they were
going to do and they wrung their hands and wept as they gazed on their
gorgeously apparelled children.
Finally the Mayor called a meeting of the Aldermen, and they all
assembled in the City Hall. Nearly every one of them had a son or a
daughter who was a chimney-sweep, or a little watch-girl, or a
shepherdess. They appointed a chairman and they took a great many
votes and contrary votes but they did not agree on anything, until every
one proposed that they consult the Wise Woman. Then they all held up
their hands, and voted to, unanimously.
So the whole board of Aldermen set out, walking by twos, with the
Mayor at their head, to consult the Wise Woman. The Aldermen were
all very fleshy, and carried gold-headed canes which they swung very
high at every step. They held their heads well back, and their chins stiff,
and whenever they met common people they sniffed gently. They were
very imposing.
The Wise Woman lived in a little hut on the outskirts of the city. She
kept a Black Cat, except for her,