poor little simple me, just because
I'm small. And _this_ is the way they dance it,' cried she, in a louder
tone; and capering backward with a bounce, and an air, and a grace, she
came with a sort of a courtesy, and a smart bump, and a shock against
the stately Miss Rebecca; and whisking round with a little scream and a
look of terrified innocence, and with her fingers to her heart, to
suppress an imaginary palpitation, dropped a low courtesy, crying--

'I'm blest but I thought 'twas tall Burke, the gunner.'

'You might look behind before you spring backward, young gentlewoman,'
said Aunt Becky, with a very bright colour.

'And you might look before you before you spring forward, old
gentlewoman,' replied Miss Mag, just as angry.

'Young ladies used to have a respect to decorum,' Aunt Becky went on.

'So they prayed me to tell you, Madam,' replied the young lady, with a
very meek courtesy, and a very crimson face.

'Yes, Miss Mac--Mag--Madam--it used to be so,' rejoined Aunt Rebecca,
''twas part of my education, at least, to conduct myself in a polite
company like a civilised person.'

'"I wish I could see it," says blind Hugh,' Magnolia retorted; 'but
'twas a good while ago, Madam, and you've had time to forget.'

'I shall acquaint your mother, Mrs.--Mug--Mac--Macnamara, with your
pretty behaviour to-morrow,' said Miss Rebecca.

'To-morrow's a new day, and mother may be well enough then to hear your
genteel lamentation; but I suppose you mean to-morrow come never,'
answered Magnolia, with another of her provoking meek courtesies.

'Oh, this is Lieutenant Puddock,' said Aunt Becky, drawing off in high
disdain, 'the bully of the town. Your present company, Sir, will find
very pretty work, I warrant, for your sword and pistols; Sir Launcelot
and his belle!'

'Do you like a belle or beldame best, Sir Launcelot?' enquired Miss Mag,
with a mild little duck to Puddock.

'You'll have your hands pretty full, Sir, ha, ha, ha!' and with scarlet
cheeks, and a choking laugh, away sailed Aunt Rebecca.

'Choke, chicken, there's more a-hatching,' said Miss Mag, in a sort of
aside, and cutting a flic-flac with a merry devilish laugh, and a wink
to Puddock. That officer, being a gentleman, was a good deal
disconcerted, and scandalised--too literal to see, and too honest to
enjoy, the absurd side of the combat.

'Twas an affair of a few seconds, like two frigates crossing in a gale,
with only opportunity for a broadside