The first act shows the Adoration of the Earth. The joy of humankind in the advent of spring finds expression in the dance, and in the performance of due rites, in the ceremony of uniting the Sire of all the Sages to the newly fecund earth. What actually happens is that sundry groups of persons, attired in picturesque but by no means prehistoric garb, are discovered prostrating themselves in various peculiar poses amidst an expansive landscape which is very green, but not much else. One group, under the instruction of “an old woman of 300 years,” begins a ceremonial dance, which is to say that the younger members stamp their feet and jerk their bodies about in an odd, rhythmic fashion, while the triple centenarian hops spasmodically amongst them. Other groups in turn spring up from their postures of obeisance and do the same, with variations. A number of young girls enter, and join the young men in the performance of the rites ordained. One is to understand that the strange antics which ensue are the primitive types of those folk dances and games which peasant children perform to this day in Russia: but it is doubtful whether even to a spectator familiar with modern rustic life in the remotest parts of that country, the connection would be apparent between the traditional games of feast days and the eccentric contortions of the performers on the stage. A feature of the games, the only one definitely recognisable (because the only one specified in the printed synopsis of the ballet) is a simulated abduction of some of the girls by a number of the young men, which is premonitory of the sacrifice to Iarilo, god of light--_i.e._, the Sun--depicted in the second act. [Illustration] After the games have been in progress for some time there enters a procession of elders of this primitive tribe, escorting an old man with a long beard--the Sire of all the Sages, high priest and venerable interpreter of the omens. His entry is a signal for everyone present to be seized with a violent tremor, which sets each figure quivering like an agitated table jelly. With due form and ceremony the ancient one pronounces a blessing on the Earth’s unfailing fruitfulness, accomplishing this act by spreadeagling himself, with the aid of assiduous helpers, face-downwards in the middle of the stage. If only the happy thought had occurred to M. Nijinsky to have the beard of the venerable one pulled forward the latter would have presented a very interesting travesty of a starfish. The tremor which has so persistently agitated the tribe now ceases. All eyes are upturned towards the Sun, whose envious wrath, it is feared, may be excited by these attentions to the Earth, and to the renewed thudding of stamping feet the curtain comes down.