and variety of the scenic decorations, that I thought not where I was,
or who I was. To city dwellers, a description of these would be as
unnecessary as uninteresting; but perhaps some young country girl, as
inexperienced as myself in fashionable amusements, may like to follow my
glowing impressions.

One scene I remember, which had on me the effect of enchantment.

The stage represented one of those rural fetes, where the peasantry of
France gather on the village green, to mingle in the exhilarating dance.
An aged couple came forward, hand in hand, in coarse grey overcoats,
wooden sabots, and flapped hats, fastened by gray handkerchiefs under
their chins. Two tight ropes were stretched parallel to each other,
about eight or ten feet above the stage, and extended over the
parquette. A light ladder rested against them, on each side. The aged
couple tottered to the ladder, and attempted to ascend; but, at the
first step, they fell and rolled on the ground.

"Poor creatures!" said I, trembling for their safety. "Why will they
make such a ridiculous attempt? Why will not some of the bystanders
prevent them, instead of urging them with such exulting shouts?"

"They deserve to suffer for their folly," answered Ernest, laughing.
"Age should not ape the agility of youth. Perhaps they will do better
than you anticipate."

After repeated attempts and failures, they stood, balancing themselves
painfully on the ropes, clinging to each other's hands, and apparently
trembling with terror.

"They _will_ fall!" I exclaimed, catching hold of Ernest's arm, and
covering my eyes. "I cannot bear to look at them. There! how dreadfully
they stagger."

Again I covered my eyes, resolved to shut out the catastrophe of their
broken necks and mangled limbs,--when thunders of acclamation shook the
house; and, looking up, I beheld a transformation that seemed
supernatural. The old great-coats, clumsy sabots, and hats, were
scattered to the ground; and two youthful figures, glittering in white
and silver, light and graceful as "feathered Mercuries," stood, hand in
hand, poised on one foot, on the tight-drawn ropes. They danced. I never
realized before the music of motion. Now, they floated downwards like
softly rolling clouds; then vaulted upwards like two white-winged birds,
with sunbeams shining on their plumage. A bright, fearless smile
illumined their countenances; their dark, waving locks shone in the
dazzling light.

Ernest seemed to