The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1936-11-12

children, because they are at the
same time less suggestible and
more suggestible than adults. In
other words, the quickness of
movement, which deceives the adj
ult eye does not always seduce the
childish eye. Flowing robes, strange
headgear, darkened skins, wigs,
masks were without avail to de-
ceive Sylvia.
1t began almost Immediately.
"Mrs. Burton!" she whispered as
magnificent Elizabethen court la
dy-in stiff distended skirt, stom-
acher and ruff-entered the room.
Immediately I saw under this bro
caded panoply the graceful swan
like gait of Leda Burton. When
presently there passed an East In
dian rajah in a flowing robe, a
coiled, jeweled turban of golden
tissue, belt bristling with knives,
"Mr. Burton" her little voice
whispered.
Presently appeared a great po-
tentate-I took him to be an Arabi-
an. Before him, walking backward
and welding an enormous long,
handled jade green feathered fan,
fleshed fellow with sleek, straight
jet-black locks and tiny sleek
mustache, his trousers and shirt
of embroidered orange linen. "Who
can they be?" I was helplessly
thinking when Sylvia's whisper
came in my ear, "Uncle Peter and
Aunt Mattie''
From where I sat could see the
tall grandfather clock. It was near
ly ten o'clock. People were pour
ing in now, but Sylvia's steady,
accurate observation constantly
clicked names to me. Of course
she did not identify every mask.
Unlike me, she did not know ev-
erybody in Satuit. And naturally
there were some who were strang-
ers to both of us for, as always,
people brought house guests. But
my intimates she recognized in
stantly. 1t was a fairly magical
performance.
The room had, of course, filed
up. Between dances, people spilled
out on the wide piazzas. The pro-
tective silence which had produced
the vacuum of that first half hour
had broken into laughter and talk.
People were still Disgusting their
voices however, as I, who was now
on the inside of so many secrets,
realized. was enjoying myself
immensely. Several strange masks
asked me to dance, but I declined
all invitations. I did not particu-
larly want to dance. I did not
want to leave Sylvia, and especial
ly I wanted to enjoy the scene.
I always take a particular de-
light at costume affairs in the pic
turesqueness of casual groupings.
Three times during the evening
of the Stow party, I saw groups
which delighted me to the tingling
point. Once it was & trio; slen-
der golden-haired Psyche in white
Greek draperies; a cavalier in a
great gray-feathered hat, gray vel
vet small clothes with slashings of
ruby; tall slender dark girl in
a balloon-like skirt of white muslin,
dappled with big orange dots;
bands of brown fur about her
wrists; mans silk hat on the
black hair which curled at the
neck. Another time a white-clad
Botticelli angel, carrying golden
Tyre, hobnobbed with an Indian in a
magnificent famingo-pink war bon
net and a flaxen-bobbed ballet
dancer in many skirts of pale blue
tarletan.
I kept calling Sylvia's attention
to these pictures. When she turned
her face up to mine, could see
her eyes shining as though stars
were boiling up from the depths of
their blueness.
Once she said to me, "Oh, how
1 wish I had brought Dorinda
Belief"
Fortunately, however, the right
reassuring idea occurred to me.
"Oh we couldn't have brought Do
| rinda Belle" I declared in a
shocked tone. Don't you see, Syl-
via, everybody would have known
| Dorinda Belle. And then they
would have guessed who we are!"
"That would be dreadful" Sylvia
whispered. "Perfickly dreadful!
But I'll tell Dorinda Belle all about
it-every word of It'll"
Just at this moment there came
another entrance crash of the or
chestra.
There strobe into the room a
magnificent male figure, Roman
warrior of the period of Julius
Caesar. He wore a short white
military tunic, overlaid with long
tabs of gilded leather; a golden
helmet; golden shoes. At his belt,
hung the short sword-as became
an officer, on the left side. The
costume was superb. The man
himself was equally superb with
his height, his shapeliness and the
bold, free carriage of his splendid
body. Only one man in Satuit could
have carried off that costume.
Even my imaginatively-led mind
registered his identity before Syl-
via said, Doctor Ace!" And then
the sword caught my eye. I rec
ognized it. The first time Ace Wis
tied Rome, he had had Roman
short sword mace for him.
Doctor Ace stood on that ruffle
of applause, calmly surveyed the
room. His eyes stopped on Sylvia
and me. The music started up. In
stantly he came over to our cor
ner, bowed before Sylvia. MAY
have the pleasure of this dance,
senorita?" he asked. Sylvia arose
and stood before the gigantic
Roman warrior; a thrilled, trem-
bling little figure-like a little sill