Just why Sandor Lesniewski was chosen for an idyll with Bustamente Moonmoth he never found out, and in a sense, he felt it would be a retrospective profanation of the experience to dig too deeply into the whys and wherefores. Suffice it to say he received the invitation (You are Invited to an Idyll with Bustamante Moonmouth — why was the name-mispelled? Another think Sandor never learned) and then at the appointed day and the appointed hour the gondola arrived at his unpretentious residence and took him to Fairyland. Oh the dancing! Oh the ladies in their green dresses with white flowers in their hair. So many staircases, so many rooms full of chests of tiny drawers, containing so many things — a pinch of saffron, a darling mouse playing on a tiny harpischord. And marching for miles to the fairy ring, holding hands with Mr. Bustamente and the naiads and going round and round till they all plopped down exhausted and then the music came up again and then they were on a train and then they were on a boat and then they were in a biplane and there they were amidst the swirling water and surf and up to his waist in the water the Sea King himself!
It was well worth doing said Sandor later to his grandchidlren. I made the right decision. I’m gladI went.