One
lithe and active dancer grasped his fair partner by the waist. She was
dressed in a red dress; was small, elastic, agile, and went by like
the wind. And now and then, in the course of every few seconds, he
would give her a whirl and a lift, sending her spinning through the
air, around himself as an axis, full four feet from the ground.
Then the music ceases, the crowd dissolves, and floats and saunters
away. On every hand are games of hazard and skill, with balls, tops,
wheels, &c., where, for five cents a trial, one might seek to gain a
choice out of glittering articles exposed to view.
Then the band strike up again, and the whirling dance renews its
vortex; and so it goes on, from hour to hour, till two or three in the
morning. Not that _we_ staid till then; we saw all we wanted to
see, and left by eleven. But it is a scene perfectly unearthly, or
rather perfectly Parisian, and just as earthly as possible; yet a
scene where earthliness is worked up into a style of sublimation the
most exquisite conceivable.
Entrance to this paradise can be had for, gentlemen, a dollar; ladies,
_free_. This tells the whole story. Nevertheless, do not infer
that there are not any respectable ladies there.
