"Light as a fairy, she was," commented Mr. Vergoe, with a bouquet of admiration in his voice.
"Is she trying to reach on to the mantlepiece?" Jenny wanted to know.
"My stars and garters, not she! She's dancing—toe-dancing, as they call it."
"I don't dance like that," said Jenny.
"Of course you don't, but you could with practice. With practice, I wouldn't say as you mightn't be as light as a pancake, so to speak."
"I can stand on my toes," declared Jenny proudly.
"Can you now?" said Mr. Vergoe admiringly.
"To reach fings off of the table."
"Ah, but then you'd be holding on to it, eh? Tight as wax, you'd be holding on to it. That won't do, that won't. You must be able to dance all over the room on your toes."
"Can you?"