St. Tammany farmer. [volume] (Covington, La.) 1874-current, 1895-07-13
THE DANCING MASTER.

AAsSAANO MAO LIAS
against the lilac walls Of the ru,na
sne white dresses of the girls made
o's OF light The shape of their
,aces, the color of their hair seemed tc
comc indistinct to vanishing point
"A tne pale gloom of the place. Beyond
sne TACT that they were all dressed in
"nite they seemed to have no exist
e"ce; no idea of individuality, Of per
sonaiity, associated itself with those
=. aaint masses of hueless garments
!ney were like SO many white flowers
held up against piece Of purple paper
and to the ordinary bebolder one
mower difereth not from another in
glory,
lhe old dancing master walked slow
~ up and down the room surveying
the girls. He held his kit and bow ten
aeriy under his left arm, pressed
9udiciously to his side. With his right
nand he alternately stroked and
tweaked at his chin, which was ALWAYS
sign that the teacher was perplexed.
There was rueful expression in his
hight brown eyes, and they looked
from the long row of white silences to
the window where the plane tree
seemed grimly bare and black in the
waning winter light The long lilac
room was painfully still, for the mas
ter paced az softly as a cat, and the
white girls held their breaths. The
lilac and white in the dying light
STEPPED the place in \ melancholy that
was not untendcr. The only warm
color in the room was the cinnamon
brown Of the mans habit.
Up and down the long room the mas
ter paced, visibly perturbed. Each
time that he came to one of the two
long windows that lit the room he
paused and looked out through the
naked branches Of the plane tree at
the river, as if he hoped to get some
encouragement from its ceaseless flow
And each time he. turned away from
the river view with the same look OF
disappointment upon his smooth, neat.
elderly face. The great clock at the
other end of the room-the clock that
had counted on 30 many lessons
seemed all of . sudden to tick with un-
wonted loudness, as il it. like the girls,
were impatient for the master to stop
his promenade and say or do some
thing.
Perhaps the appeal of the clock had
its effect. Perhaps in the stiffness the
master could catch family the sound
of all those girlish hearts auttering
timidly together. He stopped for an
instant and looked at the long line of
expcctant faces.
Young ladies, you car GO"
Then as the girls, relieved from their
suspense, moved eagerly forward to
the adjoining room, where their be-
longings lay, the professor reached
out his thin, fine white hand and
touched one of the girls upon the
shoulder.
Come back" he said, Il want to
speak with you"
The girl looked up in his face with q
little start. Then she went into the
anteroom with the rest.
When she returned in her everyday
dress, with her hat and tippet on and
her dancing shoes neatly put away in
the reticule that hung on her mittened
arm. the master was standing at the
window again, drumming nervously on
the pane He had put his kit and bow
down on the gilded table between the
two windows, the gilded table that al
ways seemed to the girl the emblem OF
ineffable luxury and repose.
The master heard her come in, but
for a moment he did not turn, and the
girl stood watching him, her pale.
plainish face paler than ever with ex-
pectation, and her dark eyes shining
in the twilight The master turned
and walked abruptly up to her.
"Ycu will never make dancer" he
said
The girl looked back at him with m
expression on her face as il he had
struck her. He saw the expressio On
and spoke quickly and sharply to hide
his pity.
1T is no use for you to come here
any more" he said. You will never
make dancer"
But / must" the girl answered,
with tears in her eyes. while her right
hand pulled nervously at the fingers OF
her left
Never, never. neverr' he insisted.
Its no use deceiving yourself. and /
look you, cannot deceive myself.
Please do not come here any more
..Oh. but sir.' the girl lifted her
claspeI hands toward him. He shook
his head angrily.
II know what l know, and | say
what know. Icannot have you here
any more. Gould you ever do the Pas
de Zephir? Never. Can you do the
.Fouette- or the 'Ballone| Bah! You
will never know the difference between
a coup and .jette.' Goaway. please.
We have finished. You will never
make dancer"
There was q firmness in his voice
which showed that his decision was
final. The girl made no further at
tempt to contest the decree. 1t was
like the judgment of the gods: abso.
lutte, irrevocable. She turned silently,
and went out of the room very quietly.
But when the door closed behind her
the strained sensibilities Of the master
could hear the stealthy sobbing, which
she tried to stifie as she slipped down
stairs and into the gaunt hall. He
heard her close the door, and for one
moment he was tempted to 60 to the
window and call her back. But he
shook his head. Better sooner than
later he said to himself She could
never make dancer" Then he sa,
down to the harpsichord and played
over a gavotte OF Lully's until he had
played the plain, awkward girl out o.
his memory
Itwas summer, and very warm. The
master sat at his window in the same
long lilac-room. 1t was very pleasan
to sit there and watch the river ane
the wherries aud barges. and to refec
in its prosperous, peaceful evening up
on the events of painstaking, sue
cessful life. The master did not smoi
it was a custom he abominated-bu
there was q flask of white wine near t
his haud, and glass half-full OF tn
yellow juice. from which ever an
.ror he took a self-satisfied sip. II