p into the darkness which was almost complete under the shade of that
great tree, the children could plainly see strange figures showing
black against the light, leaping and dancing around the fire.

"The party's begun, but not the Banquet," whispered the Knight-mare.
"You can come a little closer, but you mustn't interrupt till it's
over."

In silence they all moved a little nearer to the cleared space under
the tree, but not so near as to be discovered. Rudolf and Ann gazed
anxiously at the scene before them. First of all they noticed that the
fire was not an ordinary fire, but a huge blazing plum pudding which
accounted for the queer color of its flames. It was stuck full of bits
of crackling holly and dripped sweet-smelling sauce in every
direction. On the other side of the fire, just opposite to them, was a
moss-grown log, and on this log sat Peter. His big brown eyes, shining
with excitement, were fixed on the dancers passing before him, his
little nose sniffed the burning plum pudding with great satisfaction.
As soon as her eye fell on her little brother, Ann started toward him,
but the Knight-mare held her back.

"No use," said he. "Wait a bit, and I'll tell you when the real
trouble's going to begin."

The children had no choice but to obey, and their attention was soon
occupied by the strange sights before them. As one odd figure after
another sprang out of the dark into the firelight, capered and
pranced, and then disappeared into the blackness again, Ann and Rudolf
drew closer together and squeezed hands, very queer feelings creeping
up and down their back-bones. The strangest part of it all was that
among that crazy company were many whom the children did not see for
the first time, who were old acquaintances of theirs! There--grinning
and brandishing his stick--was the Little Black Man who had worried
Rudolf many a night as far back as he could remember. There was the
Old Witch on the Broomstick, whom Ann had often described to him.
There again, were other Bad Dreams that made the children almost smile
as they remembered certain exciting times. The Angry Farmer--Rudolf
had seen him before; he remembered his fierce expression, yes, and his
short black whip, too! Also the Cross Cook, her fat arms rolled up in
her apron, and "I'm going to tell your mother," written plainly on her
round red face. A great white Jam Pot danced just behind the Cook, and
was followed by a dozen bright Green Apples. A Dancing-m