"I bet clowns don't have the beastly things," he remarked dispassionately.
With which enigmatical remark he departed from the bosom of his family. He was escorted to the dancing-class in the afternoon by his elder sister Ethel. He signified his disgust at this want of trust in him by maintaining a haughty silence except occasionally unbending so far as to ejaculate in a voice of scornful indignation, "Dancin'! Huh!—Dancin'!"
During the dancing-class his attention wandered. Miss Carew's patience changed gradually to wearied impatience.
"Slide the right foot, children, right foot, William Brown! Now chassé to the left. I said left, William Brown. Now three steps forward. Forward, William Brown. I didn't say stand still, did I? Now, take your partner's hand—your partner's, William Brown—Henry is not your partner." William's real partner glared at him.
William performed evolutions tardily, faultily, and mechanically. He saw not a roomful of small boys and girls, shining with heat and cleanliness, dominated by Miss Carew's commanding voice and eager gaze. He saw not his own partner's small indignant face; he saw a ring, a ringmaster, a clown, lions, tigers, elephants—a circus!
He was aroused by a sudden wail from his small partner. "I don't want to dance wif William! I don't like dancing wif William. I want to dance wif someone else. William does everyfin' wrong!"
William gazed at her with a reddening countenance. The dancing-class stopped dancing to watch. The maiden found a small handkerchief hidden in a miniature pocket and began to sob into it. "I could dance nice wif someone nice. I can't dance wif William. He does it all wrong."
"Me?" said William in horror. "I've not done anything. I dunno what she's cryin' for," he explained to the room helplessly. "I've not done nothin' to her."
"You're enough to make any little girl cry," said Miss Carew sharply, "the way you dance!"
"Oh, dancin'," said William scornfully. Then, "Well, I do it all right in the end. I'm only a bit slow. I'm thinkin' of sumthin' else, that's all. That's nothing for her to cry for, is it? Cryin' because other people dance slow. There's no sense in that, is there?"