It was the dwarf's first appearance, too. He had been discovered only
the day before, running wild in the forest, and had been brought to
the palace to surprise the Infanta. His father, a poor charcoal
burner, was pleased to get rid of so ugly and useless a child. Perhaps
the most amusing thing about the little dwarf was his happiness. He
did not know how ugly he was; he did not know that he was a dwarf.
When the children laughed, he laughed as joyously as any of them. At
the close of each dance he made the funniest bows, smiling and nodding
to them just as if he were one of them. As for the Infanta, he could
not keep his eyes off her and seemed to dance for her alone. When, in
jest, she took the beautiful white rose out of her hair and threw it
at him, the dwarf put his hand on his heart and knelt before her, his
little bright eyes sparkling with pleasure.
The Infanta laughed at him until long after he had run out of the
arena, and she commanded that his dance be immediately repeated. But
it was growing warm in the garden. The Infanta was reminded that a
wonderful feast awaited her, including a birthday cake with her
initials worked all over it in painted sugar, and a lovely silver flag
waving in the top. So she rose with great dignity, and gave orders
that the little dwarf should perform before her again, after she had
taken her nap.
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