I remember on one occasion at a court ball at Berlin when a young subaltern incurred the anger of the late Prince Frederick-Charles by tripping up his partner. The Red Prince assailed the young officer so bitterly that the crown prince was obliged to intervene. At a Viennese court ball I once saw the young secretary of a foreign embassy fall so unfortunately while dancing with one of the archduchesses that he actually came down in a sitting position on her face, and caused her nose to bleed. It need scarcely be added that he left Vienna the next day, and a week later obtained his transfer to another post. A short time before the tragedy of Mayerling, Crown Princess Stephanie had a very nasty fall, owing to the gaucherie of a cavalry officer with whom she was waltzing. The emperor was terribly annoyed, and Crown Prince Rudolph spoke his mind in no measured tones to the offender. Far more polite was Emperor Napoleon III. when at a Tuileries ball a middle-aged officer and his fair partner came to grief. As the mortified warrior scrambled to his feet, the emperor extended a hand to help him, and turning to the lady, remarked: "_Madame, c'est la deuxième fois que j'ai vu tomber monsieur le colonel. La première fois c'était sur le champ de bataille de Magenta_." (Madame, this is the second time I have seen the colonel fall. The first time was on the battlefield of Magenta.) In order to see the Polonaise danced in all its glory, it must be witnessed on the occasion of the wedding of some princess of the reigning house of Prussia, when the dance is headed by a procession of cabinet ministers, bearing candles or torches, whence it is styled the "Fackel-tanz," (Torch-dance).