Perhaps the best known of the living Danish dancers is Adeline Genée, whose name has figured during the past twenty years in the ballet repertoires of all the more or less known opera houses. She has been a special favorite of the London public, where she made her début in _Monte Cristo_ in November, 1897. She has shown her best in Delibes’ _Coppélia_, though some critics maintain that her triumph in the _Dryad_ is even greater. But what _La Sylphide_ was to Taglioni, _Ghiselle_ to Grisi and _Éoline_ to Lucile Grahn, that is _Coppélia_ to Genée. She is a true exponent of the Bournoville school of ballet, though she claims that she owes her brilliant technique to some other sources. Though she studied dancing with her uncle in Denmark, yet the method, style and technique originate from Bournoville. Max Beerbohm has given a pretty characteristic account of her appearance in _Coppélia_ in London. ‘No monstrous automaton is that young lady. Perfect though she be in the _haute école_, she has by some miracle preserved her own self. She was born a comedian and a comedian she remains, light as foam. A mermaid were not a more surprising creature than she--she of whom one half is that of an authentic _ballerina_, whilst the other is that of a most intelligent, most delightful human actress. A mermaid were, indeed, less marvellous in our eyes. She would not be able to diffuse any semblance of humanity into her tail. Madame Genée’s intelligence seems to vibrate in her very toes. Her dancing, strictly classical though it is, is a part of her acting. And her acting, moreover, is of so fine a quality, that she makes the old ineloquent conventions of gesture tell meanings to me, and tell them so exquisitely that I quite forget my craving for words.--Taglioni in _Les Arabesques_? I suspect in my heart of hearts, she was no better than a doll. Grisi in _Ghiselle_? She may or may not have been passable. Genée! It is a name our grandchildren will cherish, even as we cherish now the names of those bygone dancers. And alas! our grandchildren will never believe, will never be able to imagine, what Genée was.’