The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1895-04-04
THE DANCING MASTER.

Against the lilac walls Of the room
the white dresses of tho girls made
blots of light The shape of their faces,
the color of their hair seemed to be-
come indistinct to vanishing point in
the pale gloom Of the place. Beyond
the fact that they were all dressed in
white they seemed to have no power of
existence; no idea of Individuality Of
personality, associated itself with those
faint masses Of huelcSS garments
They were like so many white flowers
held up against a piece of purple paper
and to the ordinary bcholder one
flower differeth not from another in
glory.
The Old dancing MASTER walked slow
~ up and down the room, surveying
the girls He held his kit and bow
tenucrly under his arm, pressed judi
CiollSly to his side. With hiSdcight hand
he alternately stroked and tweakcd at
his chin, which was always Il sign that
the teacher was perplcXed. There was
rucful expression in his light 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 pain
fully still, for the master paced as
softly rs a cat, and the white girls held
their breaths. The lilac ard white in
the dying light stepped the place in 4
melancholy that was not untender.
The only warm color in the room was
the cinnamon brown OF the mans hab-
it.
Up and down the long room the mas
ter paced, visibly perturbed. Each
time that he came to one of 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 encourages
ment from its ceaseless flow. And
each time he turned away from the
river view with the same look of dis
appointment upon his smooth, neat,
elderly face. The great clock in the
other end of the room-seemed all of
a sudden to tick with unwonted loud
ness. as if it, like the girls, were ilnpa-
tient for the master to stop his prom
maze ana say something.
Perhaps the appeal of the clock had
It's effect. Perhaps in the Stiffness the
master could catch family the sound
of all those girlish hearts fluttcring
timidly together. He stopped for an
instant and looked at the long line Of
expectant faces.
Young ladies, you can co.
Then as the girls, relieved from their
suspense, moved eagerly forward to
the adjoining room. where their be-
lonSings lay, the professor reached out
his thin 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
a little start. Then she went into the
ante-room with the rest
When she returned in her everyday
dress, with her hat Nnd tippet on and
her dancing shoes neatly put away in
the rcticule that hung on her mittcned
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 always seemed to the girls the
emblem Of ineffable luxury and re-
pose.
The master heard her come in, but
for moment he did not turn, and the
girl stood watching him, her pale.
planish face paler than ever with ex-
pectat ton, and her dark eyes shining
in the twilight. The master turned
and walked abruptly up to her.
''You will never make q dancer
he said.
The girl looked back at him with an
expression on her face as if he had
struck her. He saw the expression and
spoke quickly and sharply to hide the
pity.
'It is no use for you to come here
any MORE" he said, "You will never
make a dancer"
But must" the girl answered, with
tears in her eyes, while be-, right hand
pulled nervously at the fingers Of her
left
''Never, never, neverv' he insisted.
1T is no use deceiving yourself, and T
look you, I cannot-deceive myself.
Please do not come here any more"
ooh, but, sir" the girl lifted her
clasped hands toward him.
He shook his head angrily
II know what I know, and I say
what I know. T cannot hafe you here
any more. Could you ever do the Pas
de Zephyr? Never Can you do *le
'Fouette,' or the 'Ballonne?' Bah! LOU
will never know the difference between