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Strange True Stories of Louisiana

Page 11

by George Washington Cable


  VII.

  ODD PARTNERS IN THE BOLERO DANCE.

  Only one thing we lacked--mass and Sunday prayers. But on that day theflatboat remained moored, we put on our Sunday clothes, gathered on deck,and papa read the mass aloud surrounded by our whole party, kneeling; andin the parts where the choir is heard in church, Alix, my sister, and I,seconded by papa and Mario, sang hymns.

  One evening--we had already been five weeks on our journey--the flatboatwas floating slowly along, as if it were tired of going, between thenarrow banks of a bayou marked in red ink on Carlo's map, "Bayou Sorrel."It was about six in the afternoon. There had been a suffocating heat allday. It was with joy that we came up on deck. My father, as he made hisappearance, showed us his flute. It was a signal: Carlo ran for hisviolin, Suzanne for Alix's guitar, and presently Carpentier appeared withhis wife's harp. Ah! I see them still: Gordon and 'Tino seated on a mat;Celeste and her children; Mario with his violin; Maggie; Patrick at thefeet of Suzanne; Alix seated and tuning her harp; papa at her side; and M.Carpentier and I seated on the bench nearest the musicians.

  My father and Alix had already played some pieces, when papa stopped andasked her to accompany him in a new bolero which was then the vogue in NewOrleans. In those days, at all the balls and parties, the boleros,fandangos, and other Spanish dances had their place with the Frenchcontra-dances and waltzes. Suzanne had made her entrance into societythree years before, and danced ravishingly. Not so with me. I had attendedmy first ball only a few months before, and had taken nearly all mydancing-lessons from Suzanne. What was to become of me, then, when I heardmy father ask me to dance the bolero which he and Alix were playing!...Every one made room for us, crying, "_Oh, oui, Mlle. Suzanne; dancez! Oh,dancez, Mlle. Francoise!_" I did not wish to disobey my father. I did notwant to disoblige my friends. Suzanne loosed her red scarf and tossed oneend to me. I caught the end of the shawl that Suzanne was already wavingover her head and began the first steps, but it took me only an instant tosee that the task was beyond my powers. I grew confused, my head swam, andI stopped. But Alix did not stop playing; and Suzanne, wrapped in hershawl and turning upon herself, cried, "Play on!"

  I understood her intention in an instant.

  Harp and flute sounded on, and Suzanne, ever gliding, waltzing, leaping,her arms gracefully lifted above her head, softly waved her scarf, givingit a thousand different forms. Thus she made, twice, the circuit of thedeck, and at length paused before Mario Carlo. But only for a moment. Witha movement as quick as unexpected, she threw the end of her scarf to him.It wound about his neck. The Italian with a shoulder movement loosed thescarf, caught it in his left hand, threw his violin to Celeste, and bowedlow to his challenger. All this as the etiquette of the bolero inexorablydemanded. Then Maestro Mario smote the deck sharply with his heels, let goa cry like an Indian's war-whoop, and made two leaps into the air, smitinghis heels against each other. He came down on the points of his toes,waving the scarf from his left hand; and twining his right arm about mysister's waist, he swept her away with him. They danced for at least halfan hour, running the one after the other, waltzing, tripping, turning,leaping. The children and Gordon shouted with delight, while my father, M.Carpentier, and even Alix clapped their hands, crying, "Hurrah!"

  Suzanne's want of dignity exasperated me; but when I tried to speak of it,papa and Alix were against me.

  "On board a flatboat," said my father, "a breach of form is permissible."He resumed his flute with the first measures of a minuet.

  "Ah, our turn!" cried Alix; "our turn, Francoise! I will be the cavalier!"

  I could dance the minuet as well as I could the bolero--that is, not atall; but Alix promised to guide me: and as, after all, I loved the danceas we love it at sixteen, I was easily persuaded, and fan in hand followedAlix, who for the emergency wore her husband's hat; and our minuet wasreceived with as much enthusiasm as Suzanne's bolero. This ball wasfollowed by others, and Alix gave me many lessons in the dance, that someweeks later were very valuable in the wilderness towards which we werejourneying.

 

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