Suddenly, a sharp, dry cough was heard, and they all looked round. She was one of those people who think that, if you say the same thing over and over a great many times, it becomes true in the end. 'Romance is dead, Romance is dead, Romance is dead,' she murmured. I heard all about them this morning from a brown-paper cartridge, who happened to be staying in the same drawer as myself and knew the latest Court news.'īut the Catharine Wheel shook her head. The bride and bridegroom, for instance, love each other very dearly. 'Nonsense! said the Roman Candle, 'Romance never dies. I remember myself once - But it is no matter now. They wrote so much about it that nobody believed them, and I am not surprised. 'Any place you love is the world to you,' exclaimed a pensive Catharine Wheel, who had been attached to an old deal box in early life, and prided herself on her broken heart 'but love is not fashionable any more, the poets have killed it.' 'The King's garden is not the world, you foolish squib,' said a big Roman Candle 'the world is an enormous place, and it would take you three days to see it thoroughly.'
Travel improves the mind wonderfully, and does away with all one's prejudices.' Why! if they were real crackers they could not be lovelier. 'The world is certainly very beautiful,' cried a little Squib. So at the end of the King's garden a great stand had been set up, and as soon as the Royal Pyrotechnist had put everything in its proper place, the fireworks began to talk to each other. I prefer them to stars myself, as you always know when they are going to appear, and they are as delightful as my own flute-playing. 'They are like the Aurora Borealis,' said the King, who always answered questions that were addressed to other people, 'only much more natural.
'What are fireworks like?' she had asked the Prince, one morning, as she was walking on the terrace. The little Princess had never seen a firework in her life, so the King had given orders that the Royal Pyrotechnist should be in attendance on the day of her marriage. The last item on the programme was a grand display of fireworks, to be let off exactly at midnight. Indeed, he only knew two airs, and was never quite certain which one he was playing but it made no matter, for, whatever he did, everybody cried out, 'Charming! charming!' He played very badly, but no one had ever dared to tell him so, because he was the King. The bride and bridegroom were to dance the Rose-dance together, and the King had promised to play the flute. 'What an honour!' cried all the courtiers.Īfter the banquet there was to be a Ball. 'It is quite clear that they love each other,' said the little Page, 'as clear as crystal!' and the King doubled his salary a second time. Only true lovers could drink out of this cup, for if false lips touched it, it grew grey and dull and cloudy. The Prince and Princess sat at the top of the Great Hall and drank out of a cup of clear crystal. Then there was a State Banquet, which lasted for five hours. It was a magnificent ceremony, and the bride and bridegroom walked hand in hand under a canopy of purple velvet embroidered with little pearls. When the three days were over the marriage was celebrated. As he received no salary at all this was not of much use to him, but it was considered a great honour, and was duly published in the Court Gazette. 'She was like a white rose before,' said a young Page to his neighbour, 'but she is like a red rose now ' and the whole Court was delighted.įor the next three days everybody went about saying, 'White rose, Red rose, Red rose, White rose ' and the King gave orders that the Page's salary was to be doubled. 'Your picture was beautiful,' he murmured, 'but you are more beautiful than your picture ' and the little Princess blushed. When he saw her he sank upon one knee, and kissed her hand. He had dreamy violet eyes, and his hair was like fine gold. 'She is like a white rose!' they cried, and they threw down flowers on her from the balconies.Īt the gate of the Castle the Prince was waiting to receive her. So pale was she that as she drove through the streets all the people wondered. Her long ermine cloak reached right down to her feet, on her head was a tiny cap of silver tissue, and she was as pale as the Snow Palace in which she had always lived. The sledge was shaped like a great golden swan, and between the swan's wings lay the little Princess herself. She was a Russian Princess, and had driven all the way from Finland in a sledge drawn by six reindeer.
He had waited a whole year for his bride, and at last she had arrived. The King's son was going to be married, so there were general rejoicings.
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