The ladies' light dresses were completely strewn with pine needles, pine needles settled in their hair and on their bosoms. The whole place smelled of Christmas. One could hardly enjoy eating for all the laughing. Besides, there were not enough chairs and tables for everybody. So, to be able at least to balance the plate on their laps, they sat crowded close up against one another on the stairs, where the company was fed from above downward each time fresh provisions were procured from the buffet and brought out into the hall. Some enterprising pioneers even climbed up on the heap of pine trees and swayed on the springy branches like birds. Benevolent souls on the upper landing handed them their food on forks tied to walking sticks. Lilly, fairly sick with laughter, sat on one of the steps quite surrounded by strange gentlemen, all of whom wanted to be fed by her. She was in such a state of beatitude that she wished her life might end with the carnival. If she had any care in the world, it was to see to it that the gentlemen about her got enough to eat. The last of the refreshments were the cream kisses promised on the invitation. They swung on long strings from the ceiling, and each guest had to snap like a dog for his portion. If anyone used his hands he was rapped over the knuckles. This sport, which at first created fresh storms of folly, soon had to be relinquished because the cream dropped on the ladies' dresses. Lilly's Empire gown was also stained, but the instant the cream fell on it one of the gentlemen kneeled and sucked the spot away. When a trumpet blast summoned the company back to the studio, everybody was unhappy, Lilly in especial. But when she saw her friend again, whom she had quite forgotten, she quickly took comfort. Pressing against his arm and beaming with delight she reported to him amid gurgles of laughter all she had experienced in the meantime. Now, it seemed to her, she again saw the looks of those who passed her fastened on her face in strange seriousness, betokening something like compassion. But she had too much to relate to give those strange looks much thought. The speeches now began. Lilly begged her friend to stay at her side. She had romped enough, she said, and needed something "homey." He pressed his arm against hers gratefully. "Why are you trembling so?" she asked in surprise. "Oh, nothing," he replied lightly. The first of the speakers was one of the long-haired, linenless, sombre ones. Something weighty and solemn, like a hymn, was to usher in the numbers on the program. He recited an ode entitled "Super-Smoke," in which such words as "sublime mist" rhymed with "amethyst," and "super-desire" with "passionate fire." Lilly understood not a word, though the poem must have been very beautiful, because at the conclusion the gentlemen burst into wild applause. "Bravo! Bravo! Super-smoke! More Super-smoke!"