hey face each other and dance the right and left grand chain, the men
to the right and the women to the left, until the original parties are
brought together, when all waltz.

The _Sir Roger de Coverley figure_ is formed in lines of four abreast,
the men standing together on the inside, and the women next to their
partners on the outside of the line. When the leader signals, the women
advance quickly, one after the other, to the head of the line. The men
then join hands, forming an arch, as in Sir Roger de Coverley; the
women, passing under two by two, meeting their partners, waltz with
them.

In the snake figure--one which is very seldom danced--quite a large
number of couples are called, who form a ring around the room. The
leader, taking the hand of one of the men, breaks the chain, and the
couples are wound around until they come together in a knot, when the
signal is given to them to waltz. The wheel figure is somewhat similar,
and is quite a romp.

In the ring figure another evolution is borrowed from the lancers. Rings
of four couples form through the room. The men raise their arms and the
women pass through, dancing with the men in the next ring, and so on,
until they get to the top of the room, the men remaining stationary.
Then a grand march, men to the left, ladies to the right, is formed, and
the partners meet and dance.

The Maypole and all complicated figures which require the use of toys or
_papier-mache_ articles are not in vogue in New York. In Paris these
trifles, such as vegetables and heads of animals and other gewgaws, pass
for favors, as well as to lend a variety to the cotillon. In New York
very handsome souvenirs have superseded these.

Frequently in large cotillons in New York the blank or nonfavor figures
are danced only once without change of partners, as in the snake or
grand chain; otherwise the cotillon would be interminable. The leader
calls out a number of couples and goes through the figure at once, the
original partners dancing all the time with each other. I have given
both forms, and although the first explanation may seem to those who go
out every year antiquated, it is still the vogue for small and
consequently enjoyable cotillons.

CHAPTER XIV.

A BACHELOR'S LETTERS.

Letter writing is an art, and there is no pleasure equal to that of
receiving and reading a chatty and well-worded epistle from some dear
friend. I have some packets of letters preserved to-day that