lashing of gold;
what a crowd of women dressed in nothing, and a little gauze thrown
in--it made my head whirl like a top.

I can't tell you just when my hand dropped into my lap, but before I
knew it my eyes were fixed on that great whirling picture, and my sense
of shame was lost in a storm of music. All these glittering women were
standing in rows, regular as the pickets on a door-yard fence, while one
girl, with a wreath of green leaves and red berries on her head, was
whirling on one toe round and round, till she seemed to be a dozen girls
whizzing round in a cloud of white muslin.

By and by all the crowd of girls joined in and began dodging about among
the trees and flowers, like--well I must say it,--like runaway angels
determined to have a good time of it. Then a man, covered to his knees
with silver scales like a fish, came in, and he had a dance with the
girl in leaves and red berries. Such a dance--they backed, they
advanced, they snapped their fingers at each other, they flung up their
heels, they locked arms backwards, then broke apart, and began the most
lively double-shuffle at each other that ever I dreamed of. It fairly
took away my breath to see them.

"That is a splendid can-can," says that child, taking the little
spy-glass from her mother's lap, and levelling it at the dancers. "Don't
you think so, Miss Phoemie?"

I gave her a look; it was all I could spare just then, for some new
people had come into the picture. A great tall fellow, with body
supporters like bean poles, had come in with a lovely creature, who was
considered a queen among the girls. Just as I was looking, he seemed to
stretch himself out like a piece of india-rubber, and lifting one foot,
swung it over her head without touching a curl.

So this was the "Black Crook," not that I saw anything like a crook, but
the burning pictures more than made up for that, and the dancing was,
well--stupendous.

Every once in a while a curtain would fall and shut out the pictures.
Every time it was drawn up something more splendid than anything that
had gone before came out. One picture was all in a veil of fog, through
which the men and women roved like beautiful ghosts. In another, some of
the cunningest little dogs you ever saw danced, and begged, and acted a
play for themselves, just like human creatures. At last came a great
fiery picture, all gold and glare, and flowers planted in fire, with
trees that seemed to be dropping golden fru