dancers was unaccompanied by envy. Every time a shower of boquets descended on the conclusion of a solo _pas_ of one or the other of the fair _ballerine_, her sister dancers came forward to assist her in collecting them. The applause was universal and equally distributed. This, however, did not take from the excitement of the scene. The house, crowded to the roof, presented a concourse of the most eager faces, never diverted, for a moment, from the performance; and the extraordinary tumult of enthusiastic applause, joined to the delightful effect of the spectacle presented, imparted to the whole scene an interest and excitement that can hardly be imagined by those not present." [Illustration: MARION ELMORE.] CHAPTER XVI. CANDIDATES FOR SHORT CLOTHES. About a week before the date of the opening of a spectacular play at any metropolitan theatre an advertisement reading something like this appears in the want columns of the daily papers:-- Wanted--Three hundred girls for the ballet in "The Blue Huntsman," at Bishop's Theatre. Call at stage-door at ten A. M. Monday. In this simple advertisement the theatrical instinct which prompts the press agent to exaggerate facts concerning his attraction is very beautifully displayed. The number of girls wanted is probably not in excess of fifty; still the local manager does not care to waste money upon this little advertisement without getting an advertisement for his show out of it. Monday morning brings a number of applicants--not as large a number as such an advertisement would have attracted in former years, but still enough to meet the demands of the ballet master, who has come on ahead of his troupe to select the girls and give them a little training, just sufficient training to tone down the rough edges of their awkwardness and to drill them in the marches in which they will be expected to participate. The girls, as they come in singly or in pairs--shyly and coyly approaching the stage-door, but taking courage at the sight of the others who are there before them--are told to come around again in the afternoon, or perhaps the following morning to meet the ballet. There doesn't seem to be any particular choice in getting up a ballet of this kind. A round-shouldered, broad-waisted, squint-eyed, red-headed girl has her name entered on the stage manager's book as readily as the charming little blonde who looks as if she belonged to the upper walks of life, and appears many degrees more accomplished, graceful, and intelligent than the strabismal, carroty-headed creature who has preceded her. When all have been registered, up to the requisite number, some of the astonished and delighted candidates, after having learned that they will receive $4 or $6, or, maybe, $8, for the week's services, lose themselves in the intricacies of the scenery and wonder at the beauties of the new world in which they find themselves. Their next visit brings them