pardners! Balance ALL!"

And then and there, and all by himself, he danced a quadrille,
performing at one and the same time for four lively couples. Never in my
life have I seen such gyrations and capers as were cut by that
long-legged, loose-jointed, miraculously flying figure. He was in the
wildest motion without cessation, never the fraction of an instant
still; calling the figures at the top of his voice and dancing them
simultaneously; his expression anxious but polite (as is the habit of
other dancers); his hands extended as if to swing his partner or corner,
or "opposite lady"; and his feet lifting high and flapping down in an
old-fashioned step. "FIRST four, forward and back!" he shouted. "Forward
and SALUTE! BALANCE to corners! SWING pardners! GR-R-RAND
Right-and-Left!"

I think the combination of abandon and decorum with which he performed
that "Grand Right-and-Left" was the funniest thing I have ever seen. But
I didn't laugh at it.

Neither did Miss Apperthwaite.

"NOW do you believe me?" Peck was arguing, fiercely, with Mr.
Schulmeyer. "Is he crazy, or ain't he?"

"He is," Grist agreed, hoarsely. "He is a stark, starin', ravin',
roarin' lunatic! And the nigger's humorin' him!"

They were all staring, open-mouthed and aghast, into the lighted room.

"Do you see where it puts US?" Simeon Peck's rasping voice rose high.