50
Kansas University Weekly.
then began whirling and paying out lace curtain. When considerable curtain was afloat he began alternating foot-fling that pleased Bohemia densely. Then came the grand "bend-back" which he threw aloft armfuls of curtain which he gathered from an inexhaustible store his side.
This was cheered.
Then he began throwing kisses.
This was jeered.
Then came the crowning delirium of the dance; and the way he threw curtain, and shook his head, and tossed his slender legs, and whirled light as a mosquito and swift as a cyclone was the wonder and delight of Buzzard's Roost; and ever and anon lusty cheers rang in the smoky room.
The music ended with one grand chord, such as Adelaide Proctor sought for in vain, and the skirt dancer stood flushed and breathless before his friends.
"You didn't kick high enough."
"Your a man of low taste, Grubb, but if you care to see me kick I'll give you the last strain of the Skirt Dance sur la pointe du pied. Strike up Boom-de-ay, Scribe.
The piano peeled forth Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay and Booth began a new skipty hop. Then when the music reached those rousing notes that will not let anybody's feet keep still Booth hugged his curtain to his chin and sent his feet far above his head in time to the music. The Bohemians sprang to their feet in a frenzy of delight and danced around the skirt dancer and joined with the piano in singing "Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay."
At last Booth returned to the solid floor and after wiping his face with a corner of the lace curtain said:
"Say, boys, what is the best dance of all?" And everybody shouted, "The Skirt dance."
CYLEGICEL.
--she cried. "Me an' Auntiejes' can't get along together, an' I'spect it'd be better if I was out o'her way. It's no use tryin' any longer. I wish—I wish—I wisht de debbil would come right now and get me! I'spect Auntie'd be scared then and wish me back again. Oh-h-h!"
Seraphima and "De Debbil".
Seraphima clenched her tiny fists and stamped her feet in anger.
"I'm a goin' off an' fight Injuns—I js' am!"
Seraphima had "run down" with a whirr and a bang,very much as a clock does that is in need of repairs.
"Seraphima!" called a tall, thin, sharp-featured woman.
There was no answer.
"Seraphima!"
Still no answer.
“Seraphima Emily Beatrice Kerkins!”
"Yes'm," said Seraphima, meekly.
"Do you hear me!"
"Yes'm" said Seraphima, still more meekly.
"You stop yer poutin' in that thar room then, and go help Dickon drive the cows to pastur'!"
"Yes'm," said Seraphima, snatching a dilapidated sun-bonnet, and darting out of the house to join her brother.
"What's the matter, Phemie?" asked Dickon, as the two children trudged along behind the cattle.
"Auntie sp—whipped me."
"What for?"
"Cause I tole her I wisht she'd go off an' die in a great big hole."
"Phemie!"
“Yes I did!” snapped Seraphima, "an' I did wisht it too!"
Dickon answered not a word.
Seraphima was puzzled. Was Dickon going to get angry at her too—Dickon who always took her part, and who always comforted her in her troubles? She thought it would be a good plan to try a little policy.
"Dickon," she whispered, slipping her hand into his, "d' you think de debbil 'll get me?"
"Shouldn't wonder," answered Dickon.
"This mornin'?"
"Expect."
Seraphima whirled about, and followed be-