2711. Maypole dancing

Well, well, well! Today is Mayday. I prefer fairies dancing around a maypole than communists and their ilk celebrating sterile labour for the Party. Anyway…

Fairies dancing around the maypole is exactly what happened. You see, I went down to the bottom of my garden (I like to check the estate each day) and suddenly there appeared the most beautiful sight: fairies with wreaths of lily-of-the-valley on their heads, and dressed all in white, were dancing around a maypole with coloured ribbons. One of the fairies gestured to me to join. So I did, even though I was a lot bigger than them. I had to be careful not to tread on them and crush them.

While they danced they sang. Perhaps you know the song?

Sa o Roma babo, e bakren chinen
A me, chorro, dural beshava
Romano dive, amaro dive
Amaro dive, Ederlezi.

All I can say, dear Reader, was that it was a wonderful experience. When the song and dancing were over the fairies disappeared so quickly I began to doubt what I had seen. But the grass was certainly trampled down. I knew it had happened.

I must be ruthlessly honest with you now. Little white lies have the habit of growing into mountains. I have been pulling your leg. They weren’t fairies dancing around the maypole at all. They had butterfly wings. They were pixies.