After supper the central pyramid was demolished and the snow-balls, which were made of non-combustible starch-coated cotton, each one enclosing a French pop-kiss, were distributed to us, and we were invited to play snow-ball in the East Room, an invitation the more joyfully hailed because the winter having been exceptionally mild we had been debarred our usual snow-ball games. The balls striking exploded, and for some moments the East Room was the scene of an exciting snow flurry, with the startling addition of the thunder and lightning characteristic of summer storms. The President, Mrs. Madison, and other elderly guests, who had watched the game from the southern end of the room, heartily sharing and enjoying the children’s merriment, were spared, but the players, pelting each other unmercifully, looked like snow-entrapped wayfarers. It was great fun to see them dodging the balls and to hear them scream when struck, though the balls, being soft and light, caused no bruises and inflicted no damage on clothes or furniture. The game, exhilarating and inspiring, was provokingly brief, the supply of snow-balls being soon exhausted. Then the escorts sent for the children having arrived, Miss Cora, giving us quietly some instructions, reformed us in line as at supper, the band played a lively air and we marched several times around the room. The last time, bowing to the group at the upper end, we paused before the President, and kissing our hands to him said, “Good-night, General”; he smiling and bowing in return. “What a beautiful sight,” said Mrs. Madison. “It reminds me of the fairy procession in ‘Midsummer Night’s Dream.’” “It recalls to me, Madam,” said the President, “our Divine Master’s words: ‘Suffer little children to come unto me and forbid them not, for of such is the Kingdom of Heaven.’” [Illustration] A ROYAL CHRISTMAS TREE BERLIN, 1847 [Illustration]