ed the
public: it was the young girl, who now, standing on Blondel's back, was
careering round the circle at full speed. It is an exercise in which
neither the horse nor the rider is seen to advantage; the heavy
monotonous tramp of the beast, cramped by the narrow limits, becomes a
stilty, wooden gallop. The rider, too, more careful of her balance than
intent upon graceful action, restricts herself to a few, and by no means
picturesque attitudes. With all this, the girl now before me seemed
herself so intensely to enter into the enjoyment of the scene, that all
her gestures sprang out of a sort of irrepressible delight. Far from
unsteadying her foot, or limiting her action, the speed of the horse
appeared to assist the changeful bendings of her graceful figure, as
now, dropping on one knee, she would lean over to caress him, or now,
standing erect, with folded arms and leg advanced, appeared to dare him
to displace her. Faultlessly graceful as she was, there was that in her
own evident enjoyment that imparted a strange delight to the beholder,
and gave to the spectacle the sort of magnetism by which pleasure finds
its way from heart to heart throughout a multitude. At least, I suppose
this must have been so, for in the joyous cheering of that crowd there
was a ring of wild delight far different from mere applause.

At last, poor Blondel, blown and wearied, turned abruptly into the
middle of the ring, and with panting sides and shaking tail came to a
dead halt. The girl, with a graceful slide seated herself on his back
and patted him playfully. And to me this was by far the most graceful
movement of the whole.

It was really a picture! and so natural and so easy withal, that one
forgot all about her spangles and tinsel, the golden fillet of her hair,
and the tawdry fringe of her sandals; and, what was even harder still,
heard not the hoarse-mouthed enthusiasm that greeted her. At length, a
tall man, well-dressed and of striking appearance, pushed his way into
the ring, and politely presented her with a bouquet, at which piece of
courtesy the audience, noways jealous, again redoubled their applause.
She now looked round her with an air of triumphant pleasure, and while,
with a playful gesture, she flung back the ringlets on her neck, she
lifted her face full to my view, and it was Tinte-fleck! With all my
might I cried out, "Catinka! Catinka!" I know not why, but the impulse
never waited to argue the question. Though I s