he front end of
it, and a gate; and in the front part a drinking bar, the musicians at
the other end on a platform, and beyond the rail and gate a beautiful
dance floor, while at the side were boxes where one could retire to
watch the dancing--all rough boards and gaudy cretonne curtains. The
lady partners were not in evening dress, just blouses and skirts, and it
seemed the custom for the man to pay the proprietor for each dance, take
his lady through the gate, and when it was over escort her to the bar to
have a drink. It could only have been very innocent refreshment, as no
one seemed the least drunk or offensive. The bar part was crowded with
every type of the mining camp, two-thirds of them splendid faces and
figures, just glorious men; the other third, dwindling gradually to a
rather brutal typed Mexican; and even though their dress was the rough
miner's, with great boots, all were freshly shaven and smart, and all
had a "gun" in their belt, although it is against the law to wear
one concealed. But grim death lurks near all the time. Numbers were
presented to us, and in no court in Europe could one find more courtly
ease of manner or sans gene. Octavia and I are "crazy" about them.

There is no class here; it is the real thing, and the only part we have
seen yet of America where equality is a fact. That is, it is the man
who counts, not any money or position, only his personal merit; and the
Senator says if they are "yellow dogs" they sooner or later get wiped
out. It is a sort of survival of the fittest, and don't you think it is
a lovely plan, Mamma? And how I wish we had it in England. What heaps
could be cleared away and never be missed!

There was a Master of Ceremonies who called out the dances, and not more
than ten or twelve couples were allowed to dance each time, two-steps
and valses, and without exception it is the finest dancing I have ever
seen,--the very poetry of Motion. Nothing violent or rude, or like a
servants' ball at home, although they held their partners a little more
clasped than we do, and the woman's hands both on the man's shoulders,
and sometimes round his neck. (Tom says he means to introduce this style
at Chevenix the next ball they have. Think of the face of the County!)
But in spite of their funny holding, or perhaps on account of it, there
is a peculiar movement of the feet, perfect grace and rhythm and glide,
which I have never seen at a real ball. One could understand it was
a p