But soon all this was forgotten, for the wonderful festival had begun in all its glory, mystery and grandeur.  The guests came fast, and there was no longer any place at the white table, which had been deserted but a while before.  Voices resounded, and laughter and merry jests, and the music began to play.  And on the deserted paths of the garden where but a while ago Yura had wandered alone, imagining himself a prince in quest of the sleeping princess, now appeared people with cigarettes and with loud free speech.  Yura met the first guests at the front entrance; he looked at each one carefully, and he made the acquaintance and even the friendship of some of them on the way from the corridor to the table.

Thus he managed to become friendly with the officer, whose name was Mitenka—­a grown man whose name was Mitenka—­he said so himself.  Mitenka had a heavy leather sword, which was as cold as a snake, which could not be taken out—­but Mitenka lied; the sword was only fastened at the handle with a silver cord, but it could be taken out very nicely; and Yura felt vexed because the stupid Mitenka instead of carrying his sword, as he always did, placed it in a corner in the hallway as a cane.  But even in the corner the sword stood out alone—­ one could see at once that it was a sword.  Another thing that displeased Yura was that another officer came with Mitenka, an officer whom Yura knew and whose name was also Yura Mikhailovich.  Yura thought that the officer must have been named so for fun.  That wrong Yura Mikhailovich had visited them several times; he even came once on horseback; but most of the time he came just before little Yura had to go to bed.  And little Yura went to bed, while the unreal Yura Mikhailovich remained with mamma, and that caused him to feel alarmed and sad; he was afraid that mamma might be deceived.  He paid no attention to the real Yura Mikhailovich:  and now, walking beside Mitenka, he did not seem to realise his guilt; he adjusted his moustaches and maintained silence.  He kissed mamma’s hand, and that seemed repulsive to little Yura; but the stupid Mitenka also kissed mamma’s hand, and thereby set everything aright.

But soon the guests arrived in such numbers, and there was such a variety of them, as if they had fallen straight from the sky.  And some of them seemed to have fallen near the table, while others seemed to have fallen into the garden.  Suddenly several students and ladies appeared in the path.  The ladies were ordinary, but the students had holes cut at the left side of their white coats—­for their swords.  But they did not bring their swords along, no doubt because of their pride—­they were all very proud.  And the ladies rushed over to Yura and began to kiss him.  Then the most beautiful of the ladies, whose name was Ninochka, took Yura to the swing and swung him until she threw him down.  He hurt his left leg near the knee very painfully and even stained his little white pants in that spot, but of course he did not cry, and somehow his pain had quickly disappeared somewhere.  At this time father was leading an important-looking bald-headed old man in the garden, and he asked Yurochka,