“Good-evening! That’s right! I am glad to see you all here! Be merry while you may, sez I; for you don’t often get the chance, sez I!”
Such was her general greeting of the party; but after she had fixed her cap to her mind, she turned around and shook hands with every individual.
When Mrs. Force and her party had laid off their wraps, they stood up in the same costumes they had worn at their own Christmas Eve dance. There was no extravagance, and but little variety of dressing in that neighborhood.
A changing of boots for slippers, a little shaking down of slightly rumpled skirts, a little touching up of slightly disarranged hair, a drawing on and buttoning of kid gloves, and they were all ready.
Their two gentlemen met them at the chamber door, and they went down together.
Their entrance seemed to complete the expected company, and to give the signal for “the opening of the ball,” for before seats could be found for the elders of the party the musicians, consisting of two negro fiddlers, a tambourine and a banjo player, struck the stirring, old-fashioned tune of the “Fisher’s Hornpipe.” And gentlemen immediately took their partners—Mr. Force led out Mrs. Anglesea; Leonidas took Odalite; Ned and Sam Grandiere, Wynnette and Elva, for one set. William Elk and Thomas Grandiere, the elders, took respectively Miss Sukey Grandiere and Miss Sibby Bayard; Dr. Ingle and Roland Bayard took respectively Natalie Meeke and Rosemary Hedge. These formed the second set. There was not room enough in the farmhouse parlor for a third set, so about half the company had to wait their turn; but they amused themselves very well in the interim by listening to the music, watching the dancers, gossiping, flirting, and making flying excursions into the dining room for refreshment in the form of plum cake, pound cake, raisins and almonds, and sugar kisses, lemon punch, apple toddy, or eggnogg.
When the first quadrilles were completed, another set of dancers took the place of the first, and the former rested on their laurels, watched their successors on the floor, gossiped and flirted, and made flying excursions to the dining room in their turn.
And high festivity continued until the tall clock in the passage struck twelve, when the music stopped in the middle of “Malbrook,” and all then mingled together, shaking hands and wishing each other
“Happy New Year.”
Then all the dancers formed a double line the whole length of the parlor, for the giddy, whirling, exhilarating Virginia reel, with which the ball ended.