New-York tribune., 1901-02-17
NO NORE COUNTRY DINCES.
THE OLDTIME SOCIAL LIFE OF NEW
YORK STATES FARIiHOUSES HAS
PASSED AWAY.

The days Of the country dance have passed
forever from the scenes of its pristine gayety-
In the wild woods of the Adirondacks and among
the foothills of the Pennsylvania border an oc-
casiOnaI revival of this rural festivity may oc-
cur; but in the broad stretches of farm lands
from the Hudson 20 the Niagara the merry song
of the fiddle has followed the beat OF the haII
This may not seen, of mUcn moment to the
members of the younger generation. Those OF
the older win understand and the fathers and
mothers into whose hair the gray has shot its
telltale streaks may give perhaps a little sigh
/ for memOry's sake
They were merry events. those dances The
most typical took place in the ffties. before the
great war in the big farmhOuses and inns along
the Ridge Road. which runs from Rochester
10 Niagara-on- the-Lake. through rich wheat
| fields and fruitful orchards. The farmers were
prosperous and wealthy. Each WED with
his neighbOrs in hospitality. The Masons were
powerful in the land. and numbered among their
| members nine out of every ten househoIders
I'm the three counties which form the lake tier
| of the State When the winter weather had
settled snugly and the snow had spread a per-
manent sheet OF heavy white. the hospitahle
| doors swung wide and cast across the mOnoto-
nous roadways widths of rosy welcome.
The jangling sleighbes cut the still reaches of
the frosty nights with noisy cIamOr. the crisp
snow crunched under the keen runners. and
the violins droned Money Musk" and The
Campbells Are Comm" 10 the tread OF the
dancers dancing in tune.
| The private dances We're interspersed with the
big Masonic balls. which held in the inns.
The countryside turned out for twenty miles
| around for these social events The guests
came by twos and fOurs and Huge
sledges drawn by double teams OF horses car
red their laughing. noisy loads from the viii
lagos and cities. Every Ridge Road tavern had
its ballroom a long barnIike space when closed.
but binding with warmth and color when crowd
ed with scores of dancing couples. In one end,
on raised platform. above the heads of the
dancers sat the peTspiring musicians Over the
swing of the music and the swish of the dance
the raucouS voice of the 'caer-On struck in.
varying terpsichorean instruction with humor-
Gus Improvisation Under the yellow glow OF
the oil lamps the crowded floor was moving
mass of color Brightly gOwned women weave'
and flashed among the black coats of the higI
stocked men. The tread of their feet the ris
and fall of the tune. the warmth and glow
the room made a scene which quickened tn,
beating Of the heart
Nt midnight came the supper. served in IN.
dining on long tables. Turkey all manner
Of fowl jellies. cabbage salad with cream dress
Ing; celery. cakes. and coffee poured from pitct-
ers dipped from pals, all eaten and drunk
amid an inCeSSant roar OF laughter and Talk
The quiet conventional promenade of to-day
! seems pale and blo0dless in the light which
beams upon il from ths windows of the country
hastIery of fifty years ago.
But the ballroom is empty. save for Ium-
her and rubbish and spiders. The violins are as
silent the voice of the "calicr-oif' and the
grandchildren of the merry dancers gaze with
wonder ON the quaint silken and brocaded gowns
in the misty attic chests.
And what is the reason for the change? ~
night. twilight fades away into the deeper
darkness. one can cleaning pale above
the trees and the fields at the horizons edge n
misty spread Of light 1t is the reflection of the
city's lamps. AS that illumination grew strCnqar
and steadier. the glow of oldtime gayety ir .bs
country grew dim and fitfuL The city KEEP
calling and the country boys and girls listened
and obeyed the summons. Nowadays. outside
of the bigger villages. the social life of the farm
houses, as II was once. has become a tradition
which the old folks tell TO the children when
they dash home for a uay at THANKSGIVING or
Christmas time.