phantoms sang negro melodies, talked slang, and were a disgrace
to the good old-fashioned elves whom she knew and loved so well.

Our little girl was too innocent to understand half the jokes, and
often wondered what people were laughing at; but, as the first
enchantment subsided, Polly began to feel uncomfortable, to be
sure her mother would n't like to have her there, and to wish she
had n't come. Somehow, things seemed to get worse and worse, as
the play went on; for our small spectator was being rapidly
enlightened by the gossip going on all about her, as well as by her
own quick eyes and girlish instincts. When four-and-twenty girls,
dressed as jockeys, came prancing on to the stage, cracking their
whips, stamping the heels of their topboots, and winking at the
audience, Polly did not think it at all funny, but looked disgusted,
and was glad when they were gone; but when another set appeared
in a costume consisting of gauze wings, and a bit of gold fringe
round the waist, poor unfashionable Polly did n't know what to do;
for she felt both frightened and indignant, and sat with her eyes on
her play-bill, and her cheeks getting hotter and hotter every
minute.

"What are you blushing so for?" asked Fanny, as the painted sylphs
vanished.

"I 'm so ashamed of those girls," whispered Polly, taking a long
breath of relief.

"You little goose, it 's just the way it was done in Paris, and the
dancing is splendid. It seems queer at first; but you 'll get used to
it, as I did."