“I do try to, Miss Sibby! I correct myself almost every time,” said Wynnette, and then craning her neck with dignity, she added—“What I meant to say about your entertainment, Miss Bayard, was that it is far the most enjoyable I have attended this season.”
“Thank y’, honey, that’s better! A young lady can’t be too particular, sez I!” concluded Miss Sibby. But before she finished speaking the whirl of the reel had carried Wynnette off to the other end of the room.
The dancing continued until ten o’clock.
The fiddlers rested from their labors and took their grog.
The dancers sat down to recover their breath and to partake of refreshments in the form of every sort of cake, candy, nut and raisin, to say nothing of apple toddy, lemon punch and eggnogg.
When all had been refreshed the music and dancing recommenced and continued until midnight, when they wound up the ball with the giddy Virginia reel.
The hot mulled port wine was handed round and drunk amid much laughing, talking and jesting.
Then the company put on their wraps, took leave of their happy hostess, re-entered their sleighs and started merrily for their homes.
The lady from the gold diggings had partaken so heartily of all the good things provided by Miss Sibby, and had tested so conscientiously the rival merits of apple toddy, lemon punch, eggnogg and mulled port, that she went sound asleep in the sleigh and slept all the way to Mondreer and on being roused up to enter the house she addressed the dignified squire as Joe Mullins, and remarked that she thought the lead was running out at Wild Cats’, and they had better vamose the gulch and go prospecting some’eres else.
However, she slept off the effects of the party and was her own happy and hearty self at breakfast the next morning.