In the ballroom the women and children sat on one side and the men, rather shamefacedly, tiptoed over to the other side and seated themselves. The costumes were those of everyday wear, though most of the men were freshly shaven. Some of them wore coats and most of them overalls, often turned up for eight or ten inches, so as to show the trousers beneath. Almost all of them wore the high-heeled cowboy boots of the period, and not one carried a weapon. The women and children were dressed in their best; some of the younger girls wore white, perhaps with a bright ribbon tied about the neck. Eyes shone bright and faces were expectant.
The schoolhouse benches had been moved back close to the wall and the extra ones put out through the windows and piled up outside the building. At the end of the room, on a little platform where commonly the teacher sat, were the musicians. Four oil lamps on the four sides of the room gave abundant light.
Presently Jim Decker, master of ceremonies, walked over the floor holding a candle in one hand and a jack-knife in the other, shaving wax on the floor, and then trying with his foot to rub it into the wood; and at length, when his candle was exhausted and he put his knife in his pocket, a burst of music sounded from the two fiddlers and the clarionet man.
"Take your partners for the quadrille!" Decker shouted in stentorian tones.
A number of men at once crossed over, each bowing low or nodding before the lady of his choice, and asking her to dance; and in a few minutes the room was crowded with promenading couples.
It was only a moment before this that Jack and Donald, having come up from the corral where they had been feeding and watering the stock, had entered the room. Jack had told Donald about Bess Powell, and wanted him to dance with her, but they were too late for the first dance. As they lingered by the door, looking for Mrs. Powell, to whom Donald must be presented, the sets were formed and the dance began. Jim Decker was calling off the figures in a rude rhyme.
"Adams all, swing your Eves,"
was soon followed by the direction,
"Balance to your limberger cheese."