figures clad in lilac
frocks. The elder of these two was mistress of the art of skipping. She
was just and adroit in every movement; the rope passed over her black
head and under her scarlet-stockinged legs with a precision and
regularity that was like machinery; but there was nothing mechanical in
the infinite variety and sweetness of her inclinations, and the
spontaneous agile flexure of her lean waist and hips. There was one
variation favourite with her, in which she crossed her hands before her
with a motion not unlike that of weaving, which was admirably intricate
and complete. And when the two took the rope together and whirled in and
out with occasional interruptions, there was something Italian in the
type of both--in the length of nose, in the slimness and accuracy of the
shapes--and something gay and harmonious in the double movement, that
added to the whole scene a southern element, and took me over sea and
land into distant and beautiful places. Nor was this impression lessened
when the elder girl took in her arms a fair-headed baby, while the
others held the rope for her, turned and gyrated, and went in and out
over it lightly, with a quiet regularity that seemed as if it might go
on for ever. Somehow, incongruous as was the occupation, she reminded me
of Italian Madonnas. And now, as before in the hotel drawing-room, the
humorous element was to be introduced; only this time it was in broad
farce. The funniest little girl, with a mottled complexion and a big,
damaged nose, and looking for all the world like any dirty, broken-nosed
doll in a nursery lumber-room, came forward to take her turn. While the
others swung the rope for her as gently as it could be done--a mere
mockery of movement--and playfully taunted her timidity, she passaged
backwards and forwards in a pretty flutter of indecision, putting up her
shoulders and laughing with the embarrassed laughter of children by the
water's edge, eager to bathe and yet fearful. There never was anything
at once so droll and so pathetic. One did not know whether to laugh or
to cry. And when at last she had made an end of all her deprecations and
drawings back, and summoned up heart enough to straddle over the rope,
one leg at a time, it was a sight to see her ruffle herself up like a
peacock and go away down the lane with her damaged nose, seeming to
think discretion the better part of valour, and rather uneasy lest they
should ask her to repeat the exploit. Much