marshmallows! Why, each one was larger than the biggest, fattest
sofa-pillow Sara had ever seen. And, of course, beside the
marshmallows, the Great-Great-Great-Great had beautiful white hair,
and twinkling eyes, and all the usual equipment of a grandfather.

"Why, good afternoon, Pirlaps," said the Great-Great-Great-Great, in a
little high, cracked voice that seemed very odd. ("As they get greater,
their voices get smaller," explained Pirlaps, who had noticed that
Sara jumped when the old gentleman spoke.) "Would you like a
marshmallow?" he continued, tossing one down to her; and Sara saw
that it would have tipped her over, as Jimmie's missiles sometimes did
when they had a pillow-fight, if Pirlaps had not caught it. While she
was wondering what would be the polite way to eat so huge a
marshmallow, she saw the other Grandfathers coming toward her. She
knew them because there were four of them, marching in single file,
with their hands on each other's shoulders. The Great-Great-Great, who
was next in size to the one on the Post of Honor, was leading, and
they were arranged in order down to the plain Grandfather, who was not
much above the usual height.

At the same moment she saw the Grandmothers coming from the
opposite direction, in the same manner. Only, the mate to the
Great-Great-Great-Great was leading, and they were coming straight
toward the vacant Post. Sara watched them with extreme interest. They,
too, were of quite the usual grandmotherly pattern, but were equally
variable and extraordinary in size. When they reached the Post they
made a sort of living stepladder, like the acrobats in the circus; that
is, the plain Grandmother stooped over, like a boy playing leapfrog,
and the Great mounted on her back; then the Great-Great mounted on her
back, and so on, until finally the Great-Great-Great-Great got upon the