ings, in short, people of every conceivable kind to be found
in the world.

"The tumult grew greater towards one of the corners; the people
streamed asunder. For the Great Mogul happened to be passing along
there in his palanquin, attended by three-and-ninety grandees of the
realm, and seven hundred slaves. But it chanced that the Fishermen's
Guild, about five hundred strong, were keeping a festival at the
opposite corner of the place; and it was rather an unfortunate
coincidence that the Grand Turk took it in his head just at this
particular moment to go out for a ride, and crossed the square with
three thousand Janissaries. And, as if this were not enough, the grand
procession of the Interrupted Sacrifice came along at the same time,
marching up towards the obelisk with a full orchestra playing, and the
chorus singing:

"'Hail! all hail to the glorious sun!'

"So there was a thronging and a shoving, a driving and a squeaking; and
soon lamentations arose, and cries of pain, for one of the fishermen
had knocked a Brahmin's head off in the throng, and the Great Mogul had
been very nearly run down by a jack-pudding. The din grew wilder and
wilder. People were beginning to shove one another, and even to come to
fisticuffs; when the man in the brocade dressing-gown who had welcomed
Nutcracker as prince at the gate, clambered up to the top of the
obelisk, and, after a very clear-tinkling bell had rung thrice,
shouted, very loudly, three several times:

"Pastrycook! pastrycook! pastrycook!'

"Instantly the tumult subsided. Everybody tried to save his bacon as
quickly as he could; and, after the entangled processions had been got
disentangled, the dirt properly brushed off the Great Mogul, and the
Brahmin's head stuck 011 again all right, the merry noise went on just
the same as before.

"'Tell me why that gentleman called out "Pastrycook," Mr. Drosselmeier,
please,' said Marie.

"'Ah! dearest Miss Stahlbaum,' said Nutcracker, 'in this place
"Pastrycook" means a certain unknown and very terrible Power, which, it
is believed, can do with people just what it chooses. It represents the
Fate, or Destiny, which rules these happy little people, and they stand
in such awe and terror of it that the mere mention of its name quells
the wildest tumult in a moment, as the burgomaster has just shown.
Nobody thinks further of earthly matters, cuffs in the ribs, broken
heads, or the like. Every one retires within himself, and says: