Ah, there was the magical city!—­for that it was magical the most matter-of-fact person could see at a glance.  Of course it was not just imaginary, like the one Sara had built up in her mind, for this little city was shining upon the cliffs; but for all that it was not a common city—­it was a toy one, and enchanted at that.  And it was even more strange and beautiful than she had dreamed.  For streamers of violet fog blew up its streets from the sea, and a wild light from behind the farthest cliff struck across its green roofs and gilded weather-vanes.  Just as they drew up to the quay they heard a tinkling sound of music and much laughter; and an organ-man with a monkey came spilling out of one of the little streets, followed by a crowd of clapping children.  They were somewhat like Avrillia’s children, only quite foreign-looking, with green and red and yellow kerchiefs.  The organ-man was not so large as Yassuh, and the monkey was about the size of a small spider.  As for the organ, it looked strangely like the music-box that belonged to Sara’s dolls.

Sara had never before seen a city simply swarming with fairies.  Any city was a wide-eyed place to Sara; so what of the wonder of a fairy city?  To be sure, many of them were foreign-looking, like the ones who followed the organ-man, and in other ways, too; still, as Zinariola was a seaport, it was very cosmopolitan, and one saw all sorts of people on its streets.  Many were just natural-looking people, like Pirlaps and Avrillia; but some were of chocolate, like Yassuh, and some were Chinese, with long pigtails of black buttonhole-twist; and some were Parisians, with hats exactly like the one that the Japanese doll wore so unbecomingly. (Yes, Sara knew in her heart that it was unbecoming, though she would not have admitted it, even to you.) On the gay Parisian lady-fairies, however, these hats were charming—­but hardly more striking than the many-colored headdresses, made of humming-bird’s feathers, that attracted so much attention when a band of wild Indians went whooping down one of the principal streets.  And everywhere one saw sailors—­rolling along the sidewalks and greeting each other with loud “Yo-ho’s!” (Loud, that is, for their size, but always hoarsely musical.)

This visit of Sara’s took place before automobiles were introduced into Zinariola, and the carriages were drawn by devil’s horses.  Of these Sara was frankly afraid—­they reared so, and turned their heads so weirdly on their long green necks.  Sara noticed one in particular, which was drawing a carriage in a wedding procession that was just leaving a church.  This was a closed carriage, occupied by the bride and groom; and the devil’s horse was not looking where he went at all; he had turned his head completely around, and was staring through the little window straight into the carriage!  Sara was afraid to cross the street in front of horses that never looked where they stepped.  It took all her courage to attempt it, and you may