noble figures, delicate skins, and the very cut of their clothes, forbade such a possibility. They were a couple of fairies. The younger was not Happiness herself, but a waiting-maid of one of her lady's-maids, who distribute the minor gifts of Happiness. The elder looked rather gloomy: she was Care; she always looks after her own affairs personally, and then she knows they are properly attended to.
They related to each other where they had been that day. The messenger of Happiness had only performed some trifling acts, coming more under the denomination of luck, such as saving a new hat from a shower, obtaining for an honourable man a bow from a titled nonentity, and so forth. But what remained was something quite unusual.
"I must tell you," said she, "that it is, to-day, my birthday, in honour of which I have been entrusted with a pair of goloshes that I am to introduce amongst mankind. These goloshes have the property instantly to transport whomsoever shall put them on to the place and times he best likes. Every wish relative to time, place, or existence will be instantly fulfilled, and one mortal, at least, will be happy, for the time being, here below."
"So you fancy," said Care; "most likely he will be very unhappy, and will bless the moment when he gets rid of the goloshes."
"What are you thinking about?" said the other. "Now, I'll place them near the door; some one will get hold of them, and be happy."
Such was the conversation that passed between the two.
II—WHAT BEFELL THE COUNCILLOR OF JUSTICE
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T was late. Councillor Knap, who was deep in his speculations about King Hans' days, now wanted to go home, and Fate so ordained it that he drew on the Goloshes of Happiness instead of his own, and stepped out into East Street. Only, being transported back to the times of King Hans, by the magic spell of the goloshes, he immediately set his foot into the mire and swamp of the street, which in those days boasted no pavement.
"How dreadfully dirty it is here!" said the councillor. "The whole pavement has vanished, and all the lamps are out."
The moon had not risen high enough, and the air was, besides, so thick that all the surrounding objects were confused in the gloom. At the nearest corner there hung a lantern in front of an image of the Madonna; but the light was as good as nothing at all, for he only perceived it when he was just under it; and his eyes fell on the painted Child and His mother.
"Probably," thought he, "this is some curiosity-shop, where they have forgotten to take down the sign."
A couple of men, in the dress of the Middle Ages, passed by him.
"What odd figures!" thought he. "Surely they come from a masquerade."
There suddenly struck up a sound of drums and fifes, while torches shed a brilliant light. The councillor started back in amaze, and now beheld a most singular procession pass before him! First came a whole troop of drummers, that were belabouring their instruments amain; these were followed by body-guards with bows and cross-bows. The principal person in the procession was a clerical gentleman. The astonished councillor asked what it all meant, and who the man could be?
"The Bishop of Zealand."
"Good gracious! What is the bishop thinking about?" sighed the councillor, shaking his head. "Surely it could not be the bishop!" While trying to make out the truth, the councillor,
