The four girls forming the centre of attraction were now doing all manner of astonishing things possible only to Parisian feminine anatomy. In another circle near by was Johnson, the American architect, stirring enthusiastic applause as he hopped about, Indian fashion, with a little brunette whose face was hidden in the shadow of her immense hat, her hair en bandeau, à la de Mérode. Could this really be the quiet Johnson of the Ecole, who but a week ago had been showing his mother and charming sister over Paris? And there, too, was his close friend, Walden, of Michigan, leading a heavy blonde to the dance! There were others whom we knew. The little Siamese was flirting desperately with a vision in white standing near his friend, a Japanese, who, in turn, was listening to the cooing of a clinging bloomer girl. Even Haidor, the Turk, was there, but he was alone in the gallery. Many sober fellows whom I had met at the studio were there, but they were sober now only in the sense that they were not drunk. And there were law students, too, in velveteen caps and jackets, and students in the sciences, and students in music, and négligé poets, littérateurs, and artists, and every model and cocotte who could furnish her back sufficiently well to pass the censorship of the severe critic at the door. If she be attractively dressed, she may enter free; if not, she may not enter at all.
The gayety increased as the hours lengthened; the dancing was livelier, the shouting was more vociferous, skirts swirled more freely, and thin glasses fell crashing to the floor.
It was pleasanter out in the cool garden, for it was dreadfully hard to keep from dancing inside. The soft gleam of the colored lamps and lanterns was soothing, and the music was softened down to an echo. The broken rays of the lanterns embedded in the foliage laid bright patterns on the showy silks of the women, and the garçons made no noise as they flitted swiftly through the mazes of shrubbery.
At one end of the garden, surrounded by an hilarious group, were four wooden rocking-horses worked on springs. 'Astride of two of these were an army officer and his companion, a bloomer girl, who persistently twisted her ankles round her horse's head. The two others were ridden by a poet and a jauntily attired gri-sette. The four were as gleeful as children.
