She replied calmly, “The greatest giant of all:  the forerunner of every dream, of every deed!”

But Mr. Literal had reserved his most crushing argument for the last.  “Well,” said he, “it is certainly not true that Everychild has a little dog for a companion!”

And now for an instant Truth seemed really confused.  But after faltering a moment she overcame her confusion.  She smiled and beamed with real good will.  “Perhaps not,” said she, “but ah, Everychild should have!”

But Mr. Literal was not to be conciliated.  “And as for your not having a mask on any more, as Everychild would have it, that’s nonsense.  It’s there, just the same as ever.”

“To you—­yes, I know,” she replied.

“To every one!” he exclaimed irritably.  “I’ll leave it to the world.”

“Let us see,” she said; and she turned to her son, Will o’Dreams, with a significant smile.

It seemed that he understood; for he faced the painted curtains with sudden purposefulness.  He held his arms aloft—­and all the curtains began to ascend.  The result was almost bewildering.

In one place was the great shoe, just as we have seen it before, and all about it were the Old Woman’s sons and daughters, seemingly the happiest children in the world.  Their mother was smiling contentedly.

In another place there was the interior of Old Mother Hubbard’s cottage, with the little black dog just receiving a fine morsel, and with Tom and his mother looking on with great joy.

In another there was a mean cottage interior—­the home of Hansel and Grettel—­with the parents holding their son and daughter close to them.

In another was the dreadful King John, pondering moodily on his throne.

In another there was the kitchen of Cinderella’s house, with Cinderella holding her skirt back and looking in ecstacy at two perfect crystal slippers on her feet, while her mother and sisters and a perfectly fascinating prince looked on with rapture.

In another there was Everychild, being held close to his mother’s side, while the father stood apart, his hands in his trousers pockets and a complacent smile on his lips.  There was the lamp shade with the red beads, and the clock like a state capitol, and everything.

As the curtains went up the persons in the various groups looked out upon Truth, who asked in a perfectly assured tone: 

“Good people, tell me:  am I wearing a mask?”

Let me close my tale by leaving the answer to you, dear reader.

What is your decision?

Does she wear a mask?