Bsyaus j as
W7l
A dienstman is a- messenger or guide
licensed by the city. He wears his number on
his coat and has a regular station on the. street.
The society of dienstmen is responsible for the
conduct of its members.
BY ALMA A. ROGERS.
SPUING is at hand. This discovery
was not made from our fifth-flour
court wohuung (dwelling), where all
that is visible of the outside world is a
gray patch of sky and the top of a church
steeple. Though one must regard only
the. upward vision, nor ever voluntarilv
look below into the brick-paved courtyaid
that is like a prison well and whose win
dows arc stuffed with the bedding of
the tenants airing, it was not the mess
age of a scudding cloud or a greenlier
hue ori the old church steeple that told
xne.
It was the babies. They arc coming
cut simultaneously with the young leaves
on the trees'. All Winter long they have
been stowed away heaven knows how
in the dark and comfortless wohnungs
in which the true Viennese are born, live
und begin their funerals.
At intervals I had observed a white
bundle, stiff as a papoose board, in the
arms of a gaily arrayed maid, and sup
posed it was a baby. But the bundles
were always so silent and motionless 1
was never quite sure if babies could
survive the conditions of life in Vienna
until one sunny afternoon about two
weeks ago, when walking along the Stadt
I'ark. Then they burst upon me as sud
denly as the sight of the yellowing cat
kins on the trees and the swelling buds
of lilacs. Quantities of them, on the
wide pavement, and the graveled park
jaths; mewling infants in carts with
fuzzy little curls sticking out from cap
borders and eyes wide open to a new
world; past the creeping stage, these be
ing proud to go on their own legs;" others
who would soon be out of arms alto
gether, having attained to the dignity
if trousers and other sexrd garments.
And all of them, irrespective of age or
flignity. in charge ol the omnipresent
nursemaid.
In America a nursemaid is just a nurse
maid, being nothing particular to look
at unless endowed with the good looks
which heaven, for reasons of its own,
dispenses irrespective of station. But
here she is not only a nursemaid, she is
a picturesque figure. So picturesque, in
fact, that she appeals to the artist eye,
and hence one must be excused for turn
ing back to look at her.
Not for her face she is nearly always
old and unbeautiful but for her costume.
Vpnn her head a gorgeous handkerchief
is folded with caplike effect in front, the
tnds free In the back. A bright green,
led or bine embroidered jacket is worn
over a white bodice. The skirt is tjhort
und usually dark, made yards and yards
wide and plaited in accordion fashion.
Strips of rainbow hued embroidery, about
two Inches wide, hang down behind from
tho waist for garniture. Stockings of
orange colored yarn, knit on old-fashioned
needles, cover her legs. She wears
nlmcs now oftener than the high boots
of the true peasant, which shows the in
Pidlousness of the modern spirit.
Next to the bizarre and yet pleasing
combination of color, the most astonish
ing thing about her is her hip measure.
It is truly Falstaffian. Yet not so, for
it is artificial. Black bread, not h,cing
conducive to girth, she acquires It by
petticoats, accordion pleated and piled
on until In her own native Hungary she
looks, on slato occasions, like a ballet
dancer. A wealthy peasant girl there
will wear as many as a hundred such.
of the finest silk, and her toilet will cost
to much as a modern gown that disposes
Us superfluous material lengthwise in-
itead of horizontally. But such a one
ttoes not come to take care of babies in
Wien. The nursemaids are more mod
trato in their devotion to the mode, half
a dozen petticoats, as I should judge,
being sufficient.
Of course, it was a very orderly com
nanv, this of the babies and the maids.
i:crvthinK ' is orderly here, as orderly
as if poured into an iron mold and con
gealed. I have wondered sometimes if
little boys here never feel yells in their
throats that they want to let loose. In
vwd 1 have longed for the sight of
whooping, howling: little Americans, tear
ing along from school, and would be
quite willing to be pushed into the street
in tho melee. They are so much alive,
po free, so spontaneous. While here
everybody, big and little, is clipped into
orm
l"pon several occasions I have watched
the children pouring out of the schools.
There was as little demonstration as
if soldiers marched in ranks. It Ic i
fact that I have not In nine months'
lcsldence heard a child yell on the
streets, or seen a bean shooter or any
other immature engine of destruction
in the hands of incipient Tom Saw
vers or IMggy Penningtous. Games
there surely must be o keep the youth
fill ap flowing, but what they are or
where performed is beyond present
knowledge. Perhaps the order and si
lence are fruition of the wohnungs,
where there are no grassy lawns to
play in. Or perhaps the fact that
school begins at 8 A. M. has something
to do with It. Anyhow, the babies are
quiet, the children are quiet, every
thing but the cobblestones and fiacree
and cartwheels, and they make a never
ceasing roar.
As I walked back to the patch of sky
and the top of the- church steeple on
that sunny afternoon when I saw the
new leaves and the babies, other signs
of Spring were at hand. The big bunch
of toy balloons, red and blue as in
America, but here in the grip, of a
stout peasant woman, was one. Fur
ther on it pleased me to note that the
old gray-whiskered dienstmann whom
we pass on our way downtown had
changed his station to the opposite side
of the street, and was fairly soaking
in the sunbeams. Doubtless they
brought more warmth, being charged
with hope, than the bowl of hot soup
I have often observed him eating about
noonday, when we were returning from
the harmony lesson. An old woman,
as gray as he, was the bearer, and
stood by patiently while the meal
lasted.
Since this preludium to 'Spring, vari
ous things have happened. A moving
for one. But that is not such a great
matter when a few trunks and a piano
comprise all your worldly gear. We
said good-bye to the five , flights of
stairs, the brick-paved courtyard that
always made us feel like the frog who
lived at the bottom of a well, except
that we had climbed to the top, and to
the mattress-filled windows in red
ticks the mattresses, I mean, were in
the red tick. Such a sweet color note
in the general happy scheme. And
there was the necessary dissonance on
this particular morning, for one had
fallen to the bottom of the court and
lay there in the grime of a score or
less of chimneys, waiting for rescue
by the careless maid. . -
Good-bye also, though without speech,
to the tout hausbesorgerln, her false
front and black bottle, and to waiting
at night at her particular door (though
we may wait longer at some other one).
All the above, and several items not
mentioned, including the church steeple
and the gray patch, without regrets.
The only feeling that could be classed
under this head was bestowed on our
Pup, that most faithful member of the
household.
Hereby should hang a little tall. But
It doesn't. It's only a t-a-l-e, for our
pup was not a baby dog on four legs,
but a tiny stove on three. We got it
when we froze out with the Swedish
oven. It was so ridiculously tiny,
being not half the length of a fur
nace pipe in size, and it looked so
dwarfish on its three spindle legs that
one of us christened it the Brownie.
But the name wouldn't stick after
Francis Richter began calling it the
Pup, and said he hoped it would soon
grow up to be a comfort to us. Which
in truth It was from the first quarter
hour after it was connected with the
oven by a pipe the size of my arm.
With a few small lumps of coal we
could warm the room, though the
strenuous little creature turned red all
over in the effort.
After tho Pup was satisfactorily
christened, we fell into a prolonged de
bate as to Its gender. Now I know that
ordinarily this matter is just the other
way about and decides the naming. But
in a household with a repertoire of
seven languages such a question in
volves hair-splitting labors and a
speaking acquaintance at least with
idioms and other vague things that
philologists have to wrestle with. Why
table should be masculine in German,
feminine in French, Italian and Span
ish, and next whisked into complete
neutrality In Hungarian and English is
surely a proper puzzle for philological
experts. That milk should be "she'
makes the German appear a shade more
reasonable, but next -moment the cue
is lost, for the Latin offshoots gender
ixe it as "he."
When I demand a reason for such
vagaries, the German member of our
household pronounces that fine-sound
ing phrase, "for euphony." Turning to
the linguist, he assures me with truly
European superiority that what the
makers of the languages didn't choose
to consider masculine was left to the
feminine and neuter, distinctions as to
the two latter being somewhat indis
criminate. Well, I always knew there
waa only one proper tongue on earth,
which doesn't bestow sex on Inanimate
ob'jects and gives ladies the right of
suffrage.
And now see. In the end, after all
THE SUNDAY OREGOXIAX,' rOKTLAXI), MAT
evidence
Alma Rogers Writes From Vienna About Them,
Tog-ether With Stories of Francis Richter,
Vagaries of Language, and Russian Music
V:
1
ipi
Vc1.
the ebb and flow of argument over the i
coffee cups, a form of diversion to
which the two budding geniuses under
my rare are much given. It fell to the j
COMEDIES
LIFE in the parsonage differs cssen- ,
tially from that in every other j
house, for. inasmuch as the pastor !
Is a public character, he and bis are the
property of the congregation; and woe
betide the unhappy wight who hugs the
fond illusion that his wife married him
instead of the parish or that his children
can be secluded from the electric dazzle
beating around the manse! Vneasy lies
the head which wears a ministerial stove
pipe? Well, no; there's so wide a love
behind so wide an Interest! lf the door
bell dangles all day long It opens on
faces beaming or hungry for help; if the
pastoral meals must be left smoking on
the table day after day while husband
and . wife hurry to the parlor to enter
tain by the hour, the visitor often as not
leaves something behind to smoke pleas
antly at another noontide meal. .
But of all these public comings and
goings none are quite so full of laughter,
joy and finance as the weddings. The
parish wedding is a tame affair, re
hearsed beforehand, rounded smoothly
off by trained performers. The grooms
do drop the ring in ecstatic moments a
fine time did I have poking one from un
der a bookcase once while the groom
and his best man leered sheepishly at my
crimson countenance; do forget to clasp
hands, and often step on the bridal train
at that crucial second when the turn Is
made aisleward. One unhappy creature
pulled my face all askew for one mis
erable moment by an answer "Yes, sir,
tITank you!" to the query, "Do you take
this woman?" A later bridegroom added,
at a private performance in my own
house, "And Mighty glad to get 'er, yer
bet!"
But the parish wedding is a tame affair.
The stranger in a strange town and a
strange ceremony furnishes the comedy.
The clergyman soon learns the faltering
step on his porch, the fumble at his bell,
the nervously twisted hat, the shy .pre
tense at some other and indifferent busi
ness; soon turns confidently and immedi
ately to the nearest streetcar post to
discover the half-hid flutter of bridal
skirts. Still such wisdom takes time;
and madame, during the first year of our
own wedded life, turned three promising
$5 couples from our door. Then came the
day of her eye-opening.
I was out of town and when Hat tie
Parsons, a demure, beau-less, domesti
cated variety of damsel, appeared a 5
o'clock in the company of a young man
and asked for me, madame assured her
that the minister's wife "always does
just as well;" a conviction whicfl Hattie
failed to share, and even at 6, despite
some added vehemence, desperately de
nied. At 7 I burst through the front
door, glanced Into the parlor, beheld a
new brown silk never yet seen at church,
iV
7
woman to settle the question. Quite as
usual. When hasn't intuition triumphed
over mere, learning? The first time I
made a fire in the Pup I knew it be-
OF A MARRIAGE PARSON Curious ?:riFmm
gloves and hat, to match, seated close to i
a youth very black as to coat, white as
to tie and radiant as to patent leather.
"Why," I cried, into madame's aston- j
ished ear, "I didn't know Hattie Parsons
was getting married or ever thought of 1
it!"
"How did you know?" she gasped. j
Since that day every youthful book- j
agent with the slightest trepidation of
manner is bidden "Come back at 2 j
o'clock, do! The minister will surely be
in." Some conversions are uncom
fortably thorough.
As to these out-of-towners, the city
of my abiding is full of them. Situated
at the corner of two other states, it
proves a Gretna Green for all love
sick ones. They run to it away from
angered parents, suspicious offspring,
conventionalities of church weddings
the glory and the splendor and the
dear delight is. they run to us. It
adds materially .to our meager incomes.
Out of the whole kaleidoscopic pass
ing of them, the half-remembered
laughter and pathos of their stories,
arises the conviction that about
nothing else does the ordinary human
being take so little trouble to gather
information as matrimony. Even ex
perience seems no teacher; they all
"have a plentiful lack of wit."
The couples who took any thought
for the morrow, let alone the bridal
day, were scarce. An English pair
from a neighboring village decided on
a marriage "to parsons,' followed by
a jollification in their own newly-furnished
cottage. Unfortunately they
failed to confide in "parson" and found
him away at conference. With horse
and team they flew to the city while
the wedding guests voted the game
amusing, even with Hamlet left out
and Mrs. Hamlet left along with him.
The Universalist pastor was "not at
home, the Adventist ditto, the Baptist
ditto, the Quaker never married
strangers, the Methodist was holding a
reception, and those gleaming windows,
those gayly trooping guests sent the
timid seekers for sanctification of their
love into wilder flight.
The rectory opened a hospitable door on
a beautiful and cordial face. "Yes." de
clared the rectoress, "Mr. Brown has just
stepped over to the parish -ho use." At the
parish-house a finally unearthed janitor
was sure he was at the church; but the
choir, just shelving the anthem, though
the manly voice of their clergyman yet
echoed in their ears, sent the pilgrims to
a new-made widow at the south end' of
the city. She stilled her weeping a mo
ment to whisper that, though his foot
steps still lay damp along her porch, Mr-
Brown was at the north end. He wasn t.
At 11:30 a kind policeman assured a
17, IOOS.
of jpmngtimb
feu
SHE? VZAS CVT V7TTI THE
longed to the masculine,
cause it smoked.
Why?
Now that the concert season is prac
tically over, it occurred to us one day
to wonder how many musical events
Francis Richter had attended in the
last nine months. The statistics proved
so astonishing that we regretted not
having kept the count accurately. How
ever, this young man's memory is a
very good calendar, and the sum total
js about right, though a few may have
been overlooked. lie has heard
concerts and 20 operas. . In addition are
10 operas and concerts in Dresden,
making an aggregate for his first year
in Europe of 120 musical" events."
Quite enough to satisfy even an
omniverous appetite, though Francis
Richter's mind, with the avidity of the
true composer's, has known no weari
ness. On" the other hand, his friend,
Marcel de Bouzon, who has divided with
me the labor of attendance, is longing
for a circus for a change. By the way,
this young person, in whom the spirit
of youth is quite irrepressible, has
ideas on music as a health course,
which he formulates as follows:
For little headaches take Mozart pow
ders. For palpitation of the ' heart take Wag
ner King syrup.
A bad case ol nerves take Hayden water
cure.
Foe influenza epidemic Richard Strauss
drops.
For that tired feeling the modern pre
scription consisting of:
r parts Iehar (Merry "Widow).
2 parts Oscar Strauss (Waltz Dream),
ft parts Mahler symphony,
1 part Dbusy.
Q.M parts Max Reifter.
Try all of these and if you are not yet
discouraged and bedraggled pair of lovers
that I "sat up to all sorts of onairthly
times o' nights." The bell jangled angrily
above my head, and I. jumping out of my
first whiff of sleep, growled, "There., my
landlord" this was In my pre-nuptial
days "has forgotten his key again! I do
wish there, what a cross-grained sinner
I am!" So I threw up the shade and
stood revealed, amid the blaze of the
street light opposite, in a robe perfectly
appropriate for an Episcopal clergyman!
"Rev. Bassiliky Rev. RassUlky!"
wailed a voice behind the smudge of
the swift-descending shade. "Won't yer
ple-e-es-e marry a pore young feller as
can't git spliced nohow anyway?" Ten
minutes later the lady, a wife at last,
moaned gratefully. "Thank God, the
worst of it is over!"
The fees are a source of constant pal
pitations, sometimes of laughter, some
times of chagrin, for the minister finds
in them all the unexpectedness and
something of the excitement of a gam
bler's days. One pastoral brother ad
vised me to keep in stock two vai leties
of certificates and discriminate. I did.
I handed over the dollar kind to a 50
cent couple and bestowed paternally the
12-cents variety on a youth who grac
iously presented me in return a $10 bill.
I don't discriminate any more. O, no I
fling the whole collection across the par
lor table and they take their choice.
But the fees! I have been paid 50
cents, a quarter, nothing but a promise
to "kum round Sat'd'y when pay h'en
velop kums h'in" which it apparently
never did and from a dollar up, yet not
so far up as to be unendurable. But the
strangest case arrived from a hilltop
town in Massachusetts. She confessed
to 30 Summers. She told the truth, but
not all the truth, while his assertion of
21 was palpably an exaggeration,
though there could be no question as to
his uncouth beauty.
After the ceremony be inquired, "Wal,
mister, what's th' damage?"
"I hope," cried I politely, 'no damage
has been done; but If you refer to the
expected fee. that's as you deem the
service worth."
"Wal." asked he. "will a dollar and a
half about kiver't?"
"If that suits you it suits me," I re
sponded. He turned to the lady of his choice.
"Say, Jane, I didn't fetch no cash along;
yer pay 'im."
Jane thought it worth $2.
Somehow, at the beginning, the min
ister expects weddings to be all light
and laughter and love's sweet dream,
and then, out from the cloistered student
life, he is dumped down into depths of
tragedies dark, wild, heartrending. And
after he has expostulated with the boy's
family only to be assured of their entire
approbation; with the gill's and met
7
.
R7Z AZZ jSX&S'
cured lake a, bath in Beethoven and you
will feel like a bird in Paradise.
(Signed) rE BOUZON".
A most interesting late event was the
Slaviesky d'Agreneff concert, when a com
pany of Russians sang the folk songs of
five centuries ago; also their modern
church music. The patriarchal dignity of
the leader, who, though old, still has a
voice, seemed to transfuse itself through
out the company, from the dozen or so
children up to twice that number of
adults. There was a peculiar, quaint for
mality about all they did that seemed to
suit their stately robes of red and blue
velvets, heavy with jewels and richest
embroideries.
Slowly pacing, the children entered first,
clad in long Russian blouses, also of vel
vet jewel-embroidered, and with the dear
est little red boots. I wished at once
that all little Americans would wear them.
However, not possessing the precocious
dignity of these children, which is surely
a preservatice of leather, they would have
the toes kicked out in no time.
' Next came the men, in larger editions
of the same garments, except that their
high boots were tan color, lavishly em
broidered as to the tops. They wore rich
caps. The ladies, of whom there were 12
in all, entered and seated themselves in
front of the children, behind which the
men stood. They swept In In long robes
of rose and blue satin and velvet, the
entire front of each gown being covered
with gold and silver embroidery. With
their high, crown-like headdresses, from
which white, filmy veils floated to the
floor, they seemed? like a procession of
princesses come to do honor to the Queen
of Beauty. She appeared, walking alone
merely chilling rebuff; with both" the
children they are so often only that
and heard only protestations of romantic
affection, the lad himself turns from his
bride, slips back into the parlor with the
fee, and a minute later, because of one
kind word, is sobbing his shame and hl
fright out on the young pastor's breast.
These tragedies grow stern and stark
across my happy memories. There was
the youth such a gracious, well-bred, well
groomed youth who waited at my door
with funeral visage and later, at the
agreed-on hour, helped from the carriage
a painted creature, her eyebrows smudged
black even in mid-afternoon, her hair a
glistening, metallic copper, her dress
scarcely fit for an evening ball. The
license read "Occupation, Actress." The
lad didn't sob on my breast, but one more
sympathetic phrase would have brought
him there. And there was the respectable
woman of 30 who, in reply to the nup
tial question, lifted up a voice of uncon
trollable despair and wept then first did
I notice how the room was soaked in
liquor. And those gray-hatred grandpar
ents, the only proof of whose marriage
had been devoured by a fire in a city
hall, who came to me blushing like mis
behaved school children that I might
make secretly possible her retention of
his soldier's pension.
The preacher longs often to say, "I
THE CIRCUS FROM THE INSIDE
Harper's Weekly.
OST performers," said the Pink
Lemonade Man, "soak away
their spare change in sparklers, so as to
have somethin' to hock If they go broke.
1 flash mine mostly for business rea
sons, though I ain't denyin' I've con
verted it at times. Diamonds add dig
nity, especially in small towns, where
they can only recognize a gentleman be
cause he wears a high hat, patent
leather shoes and swell clothes. Besides,
it makes 'em feel easier to let 'em see
you trustin a fine sparkler like that in
the liquids you're selling 'em."
Here a shower of sawdust fell about
us. Two boys were fighting in front of
the stand, rolling on the ground and
pelting each other with sawdust.
"Well. I'll be " began the Pink Lem
onade, Man, as a quantity of it landed
in one of the tubs. Then he smiled
philosophically.
"It'll draw a crowd, and maybe I'll
land some of 'era. Here, Jimmy," he
called loudly to his assistant, "take this
tub over to the dressing tent and empty
it." He turned to us.
"What be'll do." be confided, "is strain
J
'A
6ZZ -AND
in state. In the person of the prim,
donna, youngest daugh'ter of Slaviensky
d'Agreneff, and looking a veritable queen
arrayed in blue and silver. She was. so
wondrously beautiful that at the end of
two hours, when the concert was over, I
had not tired of gazing at her. I fancied
she must be a Circassian beauty, such as
we read about as the favorite of an Orien
tal harem, until we visited the company
behind the scenes and got some history.
At close range the exquisite fairness of
the women proved to ba but paint, and
powder, even of the lovely Olga herself.
who quickly disappeared from view, and
the jewels so lavishly used in decorating
the robes were seen to be only colored
stones. But there was a sort of bizarre
Oriental . magnificence about the scene
that was striking to alien eyes. The men
wearing embroidered caps lounged about
smoking cigarettes, and the women looked
at us curiously, while we eyed the many
necklaces that literally composed the up
per part of their costumes. No doubt
they thought our plain clothes hideous. I
am sure no thought of emancipation had
ever troubled the waters of their souls, or
any of Herbert Spencer's philosophy
about the relation of ornaments to femi
nine slavery.
We were privileged to examine the
splendid robe of the leader, which was a
gift from the present Empress of Rus
sia. It is of dark crimson velvet, heavily
embroidered in designs of gold and silver
thread, and lined with costly furs. Us
value was said to be up in the thousands
of dollars.
During the programme the venerable
leader stood on a dais and beat 'time
statelily with his hand only, while a
small boy, jeweled like a butterfly, held
his cap, also jeweled. The long,, slow
movement of the songs, which had much
singing in unison, was reminiscent of mu
sic in its infancy, touched with a tradition
of the antique Greek modes frozen into
the deadness of the Russian ritual.
It was all very interesting and much of
it very pleasing, particularly a boating
song, the rocking motion of which was
done with really fine art, though the
voices were what modern systems of cul
ture call untrained. To me there is a
charm in such singing, if good, akin to
that of birds in the wild wood.
The stiff magnificence of the costumes,
the extraordinary dignity of manner, and
the antique mode of the music, combined
to leave an impression of having had a
glimpse into a civilization both remote and
strange. It was brought up to the modern
notch by one of the ladies of our party,
who has been over here six years, re
marking that all the occasion lacked of
being truly Russian was a bomb.
Vienna, April 30.
won't. Whom thoughtlessness has joined
together let common sense put asunder,
ere it be too late." Sometimes he does.
Indeed, one middle-aged sinner left ine
vowing vengeance, and next day pilloried
my cruelty "to hearts that love" to the
extent of half a column in a Boston daily.
She was illiterate 18, he cultured .52.
Yet, after all, the experience is one of
sweetness and light, brings -out the
noblest, dlvinest side of human nature,
shows the men and women, too, at their
tenderest and bravest, and the pastoral
sigh slipping after some of the retreating
forms is ollowed by a smile ere the door
is fully closed. It is so good to be young,
blind to the dull, sordid facts, to trust
that a pair of vigorous arms can twist
the worst cross loomisg blackly athwart
the foreground into a crown of joy. As
Farmer Lydden laughs out of "Chil
dren of the Mist," "There be folks and
fules"; and these are the adorable kind,
ready to "give all for love" even more
abundantly than Emerson contemplated.
Because of the beauty of it I stand
smiling at my open door, stretching my
hands out over one and all in benediction,
dropping a winged prayer down the long
walk as they turn from the manse out
into life. Its duties, its joys, its Infinite
wonder of blessed human love, for the
greatest thing on earth is love. God keep
them, every one! Rev. Jacobs Basllicanus
in the Congrexationalist.
it through a cheesecloth, we keep on
purpose. He'll bring it back in a minute,
that Is, unless Mademoiselle Fleurette
is hanging 'round."
The Serious Student beamed.
"Are there many little romances around
the circus?" he asked eagerly. "I pre
sume she g his sweetheart T
The Pink Lemonade Man threw back
his head and gave up to such explosive
and sprinkling mirth that I shuddered
for the lemonade.
"If Jimmy heard you," he finally man
aged to splutter, "he'd probably try to
beat your face in. Mademoiselle Fleu
rette's a young man. Him an' Jimmy
uster be pals, but now most every time
they meet there's a scrap. Fleurette's
got a swelled head an puts on airs.
Jimmy gets back at him by insinuations
concerning him . passin for a perfec'
lady."
Wall Flowers?
That fishes cannot dance Is true,
Thy cannot dance at all.
The question Is, What do they do
When they get Invitations to
A stylish codfish ball?