And what spirit there was in their dancing! What animation! What eyes lit up with pleasure! Not a moment's flagging: they danced with as much suppleness at five in the morning as at the beginning of the evening. And why not, indeed? Such pleasures are harmless; and it is not because a woman has danced much in her girlhood that she should lead her husband a dance, when she has one.
Good scholars are as easy to discover in the recreation-ground as in the classroom. The morality of a youth is in direct proportion to the delight he takes in play; that of a girl may be measured by her gaiety and high spirits.
I shall never forget a young American girl who sat at the same table as myself on board the steamer. The dear child, who was about seventeen, performed prodigies. I could scarcely believe my eyes, and watched her with never-flagging interest. What appetite! What a little table d'hôte ogress! I trembled for our supplies, and wondered whether the Company had foreseen the danger.
First of all, at seven in the morning, tea and bread-and-butter was taken to the hungry one in her cabin. At half-past eight, she breakfasted. At this meal she generally went straight through the bill of fare. At eleven, she had beef-tea and biscuits brought to her on deck. Lunch-time found her ready for three courses of solid food, besides pastry, fruit, etc. At five, she had tea. At six o'clock, she did valiantly again; and at ten, she was regularly served with a welsh rabbit, or some other tasty trifle. Notwithstanding this, I rarely met her on deck, or in the corridors, but she was munching sweets, gingerbread, or chocolate.
After all, there are so few distractions on board ship! Men smoke, and perhaps play poker. Some people sleep, some try to think, but unsuccessfully, others read; some ladies knit. The American girl eats.
The American girl likes men's society for several reasons. First, because she is well-educated and able to talk on almost all topics. She can talk knick-knacks and pretty nonsense; but if she knows how to describe the "cunningest bonnet" lately invented in Paris, she can also tell you all about Octave Feuillet's latest novel, or even Herbert Spencer's latest work. She likes men's society because it enlarges her circle of acquaintances, and also because it increases her chances of making a good match. No matter how much of a butterfly she may be, she never loses sight of the future. She does not say, as she sits musing on marriage, "What kind of man shall I suit?" but, "What kind of man shall I choose?"
The society of men has all the less danger for her that her virtue rests on a firm basis of calculation. She will not embark in the romance until she sees her way to profit—and profits—thereby. Fortune, or a title, that is her aim. She keeps it in view, even in the most touching moments. Between two kisses, she will perhaps ask her lover: "Are you rich?" It is the pinch of rhubarb between two layers of jam.
The constant aspiration of these young Republicans is to be one day countess, marchioness, or duchess.
The number of European coats-of-arms which have been taken out of pawn, or regilt, with American dollars is enormous.