"Oh, they're the latest thing," replied Mabel. "Professor Dodson comes from
New York, and he teaches us the newest and swellest steps."

As that day was the last of the quarter the professor had arranged a little
exhibition of his best pupils, and a good-sized audience was gathered in
the galleries above the dancing floor to witness it.

But it was a surprise to all present when he announced that a friend whose
name he was not privileged to mention, had offered a prize to the child who
should dance most gracefully, either alone or with a partner.

"You can't get it, Ethelyn," said Reginald, "for you're as awkward as a
lame elephant."

"I am not," snapped Ethelyn, "and you'd better not try for it, 'cause you'd
only make a spectacle of yourself."

"So would you," retorted Reginald, "and then we'd be a pair of spectacles."

Ethelyn said no more, for the dances were beginning.

Some of the pupils danced very prettily, others affectedly, and others
cleverly, but the dances were of a kicking, romping nature that required
much practice and skill to perform gracefully.

After all had taken part, Professor Dodson turned politely to Patty, and
invited her, if she would, to dance also.

"Oh, I couldn't, thank you," she answered "I don't know any of these