When the captain was not a captain--when he was merely “young Cy,” a boy, living with his parents, a dancing school was organized in Bayport. It was an innovation for our village, and frowned upon by many of the older and stricter inhabitants. However, most of the captain's boy friends were permitted to attend; young Cy was not. His father considered dancing a waste of time and, if not wicked, certainly frivolous and nonsensical. So the boy remained at home, but, in spite of the parental order, he practiced some of the figures of the quadrilles and the contra dances in his comrades' barns, learning them at second hand, so to speak. One winter there was to be a party in Orham, given by the Nickersons, wealthy people with a fifteen-year-old daughter. It was to be a grand affair, and most of the boys and girls in the neighboring towns were invited. Cy received an invitation, and, for a wonder, was permitted to attend. The Bayport contingent went over in a big hayrick on runners and the moonlight ride was jolly enough. The Nickerson mansion was crowded and there were music and dancing. Young Cy was miserable during the dancing. He didn't dare attempt it, in spite of his lessons in the barn. So, while the rest of his boy friends sought partners for the “Portland Fancy” and “Hull's Victory” he sat forlorn in a corner. As he sat there he was approached by a young lady, radiant in muslin and ribbons. She was three or four years older than he was, and he had worshipped her from afar as she whirled up and down the line in the Virginia Reel. She never lacked partners and seemed to be a great favorite with the young men, especially one good-looking chap with a sunburned face, who looked like a sailor. They were forming sets for “Money Musk”; it was “ladies' choice,” and there was a demand for more couples. The young lady came ever to Cy's corner and laughingly dropped him a courtesy. “If you please,” she said, “I want a partner. Will you do me the honor?” Cy blushingly avowed that he couldn't dance any to speak of. “Oh, yes, you can! I'm sure you can. You're the Whittaker boy, aren't you? I've heard about your barn lessons. And I want you to try this with me. Please do. No, John,” she added, turning to the sunburned young fellow who had followed her across the room; “this is my choice and here is my partner. Susie Taylor is after you and you mustn't run away. Come, Mr. Whittaker.” So Cy took her arm and they danced “Money Musk” together. He made but a few mistakes, and these she helped him to correct so easily that none noticed. His success gave him courage and he essayed other dances; in fact, he had a very good time at the party after all.