"You fellows!" I shouted cheerfully, "to-day is Christmas Day, when everybody enjoys himself. Let us do so too."
"But how?" one of them mournfully replied.
"And where?" continued another.
"We will dress up, and go round to all the evening parties," I decided.
And these insensate individuals actually became cheerful. They shouted, leapt, and sang. They thanked me for my suggestion, and counted up the amount of "the ready" available. In the course of half an hour we had collected all the lonely, disconsolate students in town; and when we had recruited a cheerful dozen or so of leaping devils, we repaired to a hairdresser's—he was also a costumier—and let in there the cold, and youth, and laughter.
I wanted something sombre and handsome, with a shade of elegant sadness; so I requested:
"Give me the dress of a Spanish grandee."
Apparently this grandee had been very tall, for I was altogether swallowed up in his dress, and felt there as absolutely alone as though I had been in a wide, empty hall. Getting out of this costume, I asked for something else.
"Would you like to be a clown? Motley with bells."
"A clown, indeed!" I exclaimed with contempt.
"Well, then, a bandit. Such a hat and dagger!"
