The Knight-mare obligingly stepped forward, leading Ann by the hand, and the Bad Dreams—­to the children’s surprise—­rose meekly to accompany them.  It was decided that the Cow should go first, to clear a way through the forest by her simple method of trampling down everything before her.  The Indian walked next, stepping softly and silently on his moccasined feet, and turning now and then to make a horrid face at the children who followed behind him, one on either side of the Knight-mare.  The Dentist and Policeman, walking arm in arm, brought up the rear.  The party had not gone a great distance through the wood, before Ann and Rudolf noticed that the underbrush was growing thinner and the trees beginning to be taller and farther apart.  At last they could see through a veil of branches the light of a fire burning on the ground not a great distance ahead of them, and soon they came close to the enormous oak tree under which this fire was kindled.  Its flames were a strange bluish color, and as they shot up 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,