it.'

'Go on, Liza!' cried out a dozen voices when Sally stopped.

She gave no sign of having heard them other than calmly to continue
her dance. She glided through the steps, and swayed about, and
manipulated her skirt, all with the most charming grace imaginable,
then, the music altering, she changed the style of her dancing, her
feet moved more quickly, and did not keep so strictly to the ground.
She was getting excited at the admiration of the onlookers, and her
dance grew wilder and more daring. She lifted her skirts higher,
brought in new and more difficult movements into her improvisation,
kicking up her legs she did the wonderful twist, backwards and
forwards, of which the dancer is proud.

'Look at 'er legs!' cried one of the men.

'Look at 'er stockin's!' shouted another; and indeed they were
remarkable, for Liza had chosen them of the same brilliant hue as her
dress, and was herself most proud of the harmony.

Her dance became gayer: her feet scarcely touched the ground, she
whirled round madly.

'Take care yer don't split!' cried out one of the wags, at a very
audacious kick.

The words were hardly out of his mouth when Liza, with a gigantic
effort, raised her foot and kicked off his hat. The feat was greeted
with applause, and she went on, making turns and twists, flourishing