aid, "but you know it's
true that Imagination--I believe he calls himself Will o'Dreams--is not
a giant as he's been represented here."

She replied calmly, "The greatest giant of all: the forerunner of every
dream, of every deed!"

But Mr. Literal had reserved his most crushing argument for the last.
"Well," said he, "it is certainly not true that Everychild has a little
dog for a companion!"

And now for an instant Truth seemed really confused. But after
faltering a moment she overcame her confusion. She smiled and beamed
with real good will. "Perhaps not," said she, "but ah, Everychild
_should_ have!"

But Mr. Literal was not to be conciliated. "And as for your not having
a mask on any more, as Everychild would have it, that's nonsense. It's
there, just the same as ever."

"To you--yes, I know," she replied.

"To every one!" he exclaimed irritably. "I'll leave it to the world."

"Let us see," she said; and she turned to her son, Will o'Dreams, with
a significant smile.

It seemed that he understood; for he faced the painted curtains with
sudden purposefulness. He held his arms aloft--and all the curtains
began to ascend. The result was almost bewildering.

In one place was the great shoe, just as we have seen it before, and
all about it were the Old Woman's sons and daughters, seemingly the
happiest children in the world. Their mother was smiling contentedly.

In another place there was the interior of Old Mother Hubbard's
cottage, with the little black dog just receiving a fine morsel, and
with Tom and his mother looking on with great joy.

In another there was a mean cottage interior--the home of Hansel and
Grettel--with the parents holding their son and daughter close to them.

In another was the dreadful King John, pondering moodily on his throne.

In another there was the kitchen of Cinderella's house, with Cinderella
holding her skirt back and looking in ecstacy at two perfect crystal
slippers on her feet, while her mother and sisters _and a perfectly
fascinating prince_ looked on with rapture.

In another there was Everychild, being held close to his mother's side,
while the father stood apart, his hands in his trousers pockets and a
complacent smile on his lips. There was the lamp shade with the red
beads, and the clock like a state capitol, and everything.

As the curtains went up the persons in the various groups looked out
upon Truth, who asked in a perfectly assured tone:

"G