that. I want to see him do you credit, that's all, and he couldn't
'ave a better opportunity to distinguish himself--now _could_ he?

_Miss Serge_. _I'm_ not preventing him. But I don't know--these
niggers keep themselves very select, and they might object to it.

_Alf_. I'll soon square _them_. You keep your eye on me, and I'll make
things a bit livelier! [_He enters the Circle._

_Miss Serge_ (_admiringly_). He _has_ got a cheek, I must say! Look
at him, dancing there along with those two Niggers--they don't hardly
know what to make of him yet!

_Chorley_. Do you notice how they keep kicking him beyind on the sly
like? I wonder he puts up with it!

_Miss S._ He'll be even with them presently--you see if he isn't.

[ALF _attempts to twirl a tambourine on his finger, and lets
it fall; derision from audience_; Bones _pats him on the head,
and takes the tambourine away--at which_ ALF _only smiles
feebly._

_Chorley._ It's a pity he gets so 'ot dancing, and he don't seem to
keep in step with the others.

_Miss S._ (_secretly disappointed_). He isn't used to doing the
double-shuffle on sand, that's all.

_The Conductor_. Bones, I observe we have a recent addition to our