At
first, Polly thought she had got into fairy-land, and saw only the
sparkling creatures who danced and sung in a world of light and beauty;
but, presently, she began to listen to the songs and conversation, and
then the illusion vanished; for the lovely phantoms sang negro melodies,
talked slang, and were a disgrace to the good old-fashioned elves whom
she knew and loved so well.

Our little girl was too innocent to understand half the jokes, and often
wondered what people were laughing at; but, as the first enchantment
subsided, Polly began to feel uncomfortable, to be sure her mother
would n't like to have her there, and to wish she had n't come. Somehow,
things seemed to get worse and worse, as the play went on; for our small
spectator was being rapidly enlightened by the gossip going on all
about her, as well as by her own quick eyes and girlish instincts.
When four-and-twenty girls, dressed as jockeys, came prancing on to the
stage, cracking their whips, stamping the heels of their topboots, and
winking at the audience, Polly did not think it at all funny, but
looked disgusted, and was glad when they were gone; but when another
set appeared in a costume consisting of gauze wings, and a bit of gold
fringe round the waist, poor unfashionable Polly did n't know what to
do; for she felt both frightened and indignant, and sat with her eyes on
her play-bill, and her cheeks getting hotter and hotter every minute.

"What are you blushing so for?" asked Fanny, as the painted sylphs
vanished.

"I 'm so ashamed of those girls," whispered Polly, taking a long breath
of relief.

"You little goose, it 's just the way it was done in Paris, and the
dancing is splendid. It seems queer at first; but you 'll get used to
it, as I did."

"I 'll never come again," said Polly, decidedly; for her innocent nature
rebelled against the spectacle, which, as yet, gave her more pain than
pleasure. She did not know how easy it was to "get used to it," as Fanny
did; and it was well for her that the temptation was not often offered.
She could not explain the feeling; but she was glad when the play was
done, and they were safe at home, where kind grandma was waiting to see
them comfortably into bed.

"Did you have a good time, dear?" she asked, looking at Polly's feverish
cheeks and excited eyes.

"I don't wish to be rude, but I did n't," answered Polly. "Some of it
was splendid; but a good deal of it made me want to go under the seat.