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 people; I give balls, no less than thirty-one; indeed, that is the highest number I can spare for balls. My ships are often frozen in, but in my offices it is warm and comfortable. My name is. I’m a merchant, and I generally bring my accounts with me.”

Then the second alighted. He seemed a merry fellow. He was a director of a theatre, a manager of masked balls, and a leader of all the amusements we can imagine. His luggage consisted of a great cask.

“We’ll dance the bung out of the cask at carnival time,” said he; I’ll prepare a merry tune for you and for myself too. Unfortunately I have not long to live—the shortest time, in fact, of my whole family—only twenty-eight days. Sometimes they pop me in a day extra; but I trouble myself very little about that. Hurrah!”

“You must not shout so,” said the sentry.

“Certainly I may shout,” retorted the man; “I’m Prince Carnival, travelling under the name of .”

The third now got out. He looked a personification of fasting; but he carried his nose very high, for he was related to the “forty (k)nights,” and was a weather prophet. But that is not a very lucrative office, and therefore he praised fasting. In his button-hole he carried a little bunch of violets, but they were very small.

“, March,” the fourth called after him, slapping him on the shoulder, “don’t you smell something? Make haste into the guard-room; they’re drinking punch there; that’s your favourite drink. I can smell it out here already. Forward, Master March.” But it was not true; the speaker only wanted to remind him of his name, and to make an fool of him; for with that fun the fourth generally began his career. He looked very jovial, did little work, and had the more holidays. “If the world were only a little more settled,” said he: “but sometimes I’m obliged to be in a good humour, and sometimes a bad one, according to circumstances; now rain, now sunshine. I’m a kind of house agent, also a manager of funerals. I can laugh or cry, according to circumstances. I have my summer wardrobe in this box here, but it would be very foolish to put it on now. Here I am. On Sundays I go out walking in shoes and white silk stockings, and a muff.”

After him, a lady stepped out of the coach. She called herself Miss. She wore a summer dress and overshoes; her dress was a light green, and she wore anemones in her hair. She was so scented with wild thyme, that it made the sentry sneeze.

“Your health, and God bless you,” was her salutation to him.

How pretty she was! and such a singer! not a theatre singer, nor a ballad singer; no, but a singer of the woods; for she wandered through the gay green forest, and had a concert there for her own amusement.

“Now comes the young lady,” said those in the carriage; and out stepped