By-am-by the curtain begun to roll up, and I'd like to have larfed right out to see them painted chaps du themselves up and curl over the roller--fust their feet doubled up, then their legs and hips and shoulders--then the roller took a slice off from the bottom of the mound, and turights, the hull was twisted up into a beam, and hitched to the ruff--goodness gracious knows how, I don't! Wal, when the curtain was all rolled up snug, there raly was a picter worth looking on behind it. There was a great high mountain with rail fences cutting across it, and bridges and trees, that made a feller feel oneasy to git into the shade, and oxen and cows and folks a driving 'em, going along the road, that run around slantindicular to the top, and there, jest at the foot of the hill, was a purty leetle house half kivered over with grape vines and morning glories that made me think of hum till I could a bust out crying as well as not. All to once there was a toot horn sounded up among the rocks, and then--oh creation! what a grist of harnsome gals cum a dancing and larfing and hopping down the mountain, all with curls a flying and posies twisted among 'em, and white frocks on, and ribbons a streaming out every which way, and _sich_ feet, I swanny it made me ketch my breath to see 'em a cutting about under their white petticoats. When they got down onto the flat before the house, the way they cut it down heel and toe, right and left, down outside and up the middle, was enough to make the York tippes, the darned lazy coots, ashamed of themselves. It was Down East all over!--they put it down about right, with the ginuine Yankee grit. I felt all in a twitter to git down and shake a toe with them. It would be worth while to cut a double shuffle among so many harnsome gals, with a hull pen chuck full of fiddles a reeling off the music for you. I'll be darned, Par, if I don't believe it would make the blood streak it through your old veins about the quickest, if you be a Justice of the Peace and a Deacon of the Church. Arter a while a feller cum up that looked just like a tin pedler out of work--a sneaking critter with a face like a jack-knife, and a white hat on turned clear up on the sides till the front and back was pinted like a butter scoop. He begun stepping about and making motions with his arms, till the gals cut up the hill to work agin, like a coop full of chickens scattered by a hen hawk. The chap was a strutting about as crank as a woodchuck, when in come Miss Elssler a hundred times handsomer than she was to hum, wheeling a wheel-barrow with a churn in it.