She took life very easily and happily, till it happened one day that she saw the Bicycle-man, and unfortunately fell in love with him as he went by. He was a very handsome fellow, and made a good appearance upon his bicycle.
Directly the Little Dancer saw him she loved him, and she lost no time in telling him so. She spoke without any hesitation.
“Dear heart, I love you,” she said as she danced.
Now the Bicycle-man was very vain, and was therefore not a little gratified at the impression he had made. But he pretended to be much displeased.
“You should not have said that until I had first said something of the sort,” replied the Bicycle-man. “It was not your place to speak first. You are very forward.”
And he rode on.
The Little Dancer was much distressed.
“He is angry,” she said to her friend the Little China Doll next to her, with the two long flaxen pigtails hanging down her back.
“He is angry.” And she danced more slowly and less gaily.
“What of that?” said her friend, tossing her head. “It is of no consequence.”