Drowned and Downed and Danced

Save from the merry tree, the one that stood as if swaying with the wind, but never really moving, everything was green or orange or black for the festival. Smiles were green, tempers were orange and hair and skin and fingernails were black. It wasn't the festival that was the tedious labourer that brought on the autumnous colours, but rather the occurrence of mighty, come-from-afar, mice.