And then and there, and all by himself, he danced a quadrille, performing at one and the same time for four lively couples. Never in my life have I seen such gyrations and capers as were cut by that long-legged, loose-jointed, miraculously flying figure. He was in the wildest motion without cessation, never the fraction of an instant still; calling the figures at the top of his voice and dancing them simultaneously; his expression anxious but polite (as is the habit of other dancers); his hands extended as if to swing his partner or corner, or “opposite lady”; and his feet lifting high and flapping down in an old-fashioned step. “FIRST four, forward and back!” he shouted. “Forward and SALUTE! BALANCE to corners! SWING pardners! GR-R-RAND Right-and-Left!” I think the combination of abandon and decorum with which he performed that “Grand Right-and-Left” was the funniest thing I have ever seen. But I didn't laugh at it. Neither did Miss Apperthwaite. “NOW do you believe me?” Peck was arguing, fiercely, with Mr. Schulmeyer. “Is he crazy, or ain't he?” “He is,” Grist agreed, hoarsely. “He is a stark, starin', ravin', roarin' lunatic! And the nigger's humorin' him!” They were all staring, open-mouthed and aghast, into the lighted room. “Do you see where it puts US?” Simeon Peck's rasping voice rose high. “I guess I do!” said Grist. “We come out to buy a barn, and got a house and lot fer the same money. It's the greatest night's work you ever done, Sim Peck!” “I guess it is!” “Shake on it, Sim.” They shook hands, exalted with triumph. “This'll do the work,” giggled Peck. “It's about two-thousand per cent. better than the story we started to git. Why, Dave Beasley'll be in a padded cell in a month! It'll be all over town to-morrow, and he'll have as much chance fer governor as that nigger in there!” In his ecstasy he smote Dowden deliriously in the ribs. “What do you think of your candidate NOW?” “Wait,” said Dowden. “Who came in the hacks that Grist saw?” This staggered Mr. Peck. He rubbed his mitten over his woollen cap as if scratching his head. “Why,” he said, slowly--“who in Halifax DID come in them hacks?” “The Hunchbergs,” said I. “Who's the Hunchbergs? Where--” “Listen,” said Dowden. “FIRST couple, FACE out!” shouted Beasley, facing out with an invisible lady on his akimboed arm, while old Bob sawed madly at A New Coon in Town. “SECOND couple, FALL in!” Beasley wheeled about and enacted the second couple. “THIRD couple!” He fell in behind himself again. “FOURTH couple, IF you please! BALANCE--ALL!--I beg your pardon, Miss Molanna, I'm afraid I stepped on your train.--SASHAY ALL!” After the “sashay”--the noblest and most dashing bit of gymnastics displayed in the whole quadrille--he bowed profoundly to his invisible partner and came to a pause, wiping his streaming face. Old Bob dexterously swung A New Coon into the stately measures of a triumphal march.