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. It is a place so
remarkable, that very few strangers stay long in Paris without taking
a look at it. And though young ladies residing in Paris never go, and
matrons very seldom, yet occasionally it is the case that some ladies
of respectability look in. The best dancers, those who exhibit such
surprising feats of skill and agility, are _professional_ - paid
by the establishment.
Nevertheless, aside from the impropriety inherent in the very nature
of waltzing, there was not a word, look, or gesture of immorality or
impropriety. The dresses were all decent; and if there was vice, it
was vice masked under the guise of polite propriety.
How different, I could not but reflect, is all this from the gin
palaces of London! There, there is indeed a dazzling splendor of gas
light. But there is nothing artistic, nothing refined, nothing
appealing to the imagination. There are only hogsheads, and barrels,
and the appliances for serving out strong drink. And there, for one
sole end, the swallowing of fiery stimulant, come the nightly
thousands - from the gay and well dressed, to the haggard and tattered,
in the last stage of debasement. The end is the same - by how different
paths! Here, they dance along the path to ruin, with flowers and
music; there, they cast themselves bodily, as it were, into the lake
of fire.
Wednesday, June 15. Went in the forenoon to M. Belloc's studio, and
read while H. was sitting.
Then we drove to Madame Roger's, who is one of the leaders of Paris
taste and legislation in dress, and who is said to have refused to
work for a duchess who neglected to return her husband's bow.
