There was not a single parent in sight, it is true; but this did not disturb their joy, since it was plain that any number of parents might be near by, waiting for a wand to be waved, or a wish to be made.

On the far side of the Hall there was a great semicircle of painted curtains, like those in a theater, with only narrow spaces between them.  On these curtains were painted scenes and figures of men and women.  Above each curtain a pennon was flying.

From some invisible place strains of music floated, and the music was of the kind which does not make the heart either heavy or light, but simply tender.

The children began to advance into the Hall of Parents, gazing with wondering eyes at the painted curtains, which held for them a strange fascination.  As they drew nearer they perceived that in the middle of the semi-circle of curtains there was an opening, with soft draperies before it, as if it were here that the parents would presently enter.

Then the pictures on the curtains began to become clear, and there were cries of joy and amazement from the children.  One picture showed the mother and father of Everychild.  The mother sat at a table, her face buried on her arms.  The father stood helplessly beside her, his hand on her shoulder.

Another picture showed the wicked King John of England sitting gloomily on his throne.

Another showed the mother and sisters of Cinderella seated before a fireplace, silent and forlorn.  Near them, and gazing at them challengingly, was the figure of a gallant young man with a crystal slipper of great delicacy in his hand.

Another showed the parents of Hansel and Grettel, the father clasping a loaf of bread to him and gazing abstractedly before him.

Another showed Old Mother Hubbard standing before a cupboard and looking into it intently.

Another showed the unique residence of the Old Woman who lived in a shoe, with the Old Woman herself standing dejectedly near the gaping opening in the toe.

Others showed certain not easily recognizable ladies and gentlemen:  perhaps the parents of Little Bo-Peep and Little Boy Blue and others.

And high above all these homely pictures, which were exaggerated just enough to be really fascinating—­like the pictures at the side-show of the circus—­fluttered the soft pennons.

The curtains themselves wavered deliciously, so that you could guess something was going on behind them.  The music which made your heart tender never ceased to flow from its invisible place.

Closer and closer the children pressed, still scarcely daring to breathe, and feeling certain that their parents would not be much longer withheld from them.  They were becoming more and more eager.  Even the little black dog manifested the greatest excitement.

And at last Truth stepped forward purposefully and took her place just in advance of the band of children.  She had never seemed more impressive.  Her white dress gleamed in the bright light, and the gem in her hair was of every color one could imagine.