The balloon-fleet reached the village at dawn, its musician-crew playing mad and merry airs.
The baker tapped her feet in time to the irresistible rhythm of drums.
The postman whistled a jaunty counterpoint to the fiddles playing gaily overhead.
Clashing cymbals changed the schoolmistress’ mind. Instead of banging ‘come to lessons’, she clanged out ‘today is a holiday’, making children overturn their breakfasts in joy.
By 10 a.m., there was dancing in the streets. Even the mayor stopped speechifying to tango with the chief of police.
Fortified by sandwiches tied to helium balloons, the airborne musicians continued playing until sunset.
