Miss R---- often rocked in the junk with us. That reminds me that I promised to describe the junk. But how shall I picture that perennial fount of joy? It was crescent-shaped, or rather it was like a longitudinal slice cut out of a watermelon. Magnify the slice a hundred-fold; put seats up and down the sides, with iron bars in front to hold on by; set it on two grooved rails and paint it red,--there you have the junk! Nay! you have it not entire; for it should be filled with rosy, shouting children, standing or sitting, holding on by the bars and rocking with might and main,-- “Yo-ho! Here we go! Up and down! Heigh-ho!” Why are there no junks nowadays? Surely it would be better for us, body and mind, if there were; for, as for the one, the rocking exercised every muscle in the whole bodily frame, and as for the other, black Care could not enter the junk (at least he did not), nor weariness, nor “shadow of annoyance.” There ought to be a junk on Boston Common, free to all, and half a dozen in Central Park; and I hope every young person who reads these words will suggest this device to his parents or guardians. But teaching is not entirely confined to the archery practice of the young idea; and any account of our teachers would be incomplete without mention of our dancing-master,--of _the_ dancing-master, for there was but one. You remember that the dandy in “Punch,” being asked of whom he buys his hats, replies: “Scott. Is there another fellah?” Even so it would be difficult for the Boston generation of middle or elder life to acknowledge that there could have been “another fellah” to teach dancing besides Lorenzo Papanti. Who does not remember--nay! who could ever forget--that tall, graceful figure; that marvellous elastic glide, like a wave flowing over glass? Who could ever forget the shrewd, kindly smile when he was pleased, the keen lightning of his glance when angered? What if he did rap our toes sometimes till the timorous wept, and those of stouter heart flushed scarlet, and clenched their small hands and inly vowed revenge? No doubt we richly deserved it, and it did us good.