Part 23

And when a neighbor like Aunt Binie Warwick gave out the word there'd be a frolic and dance at her house, nothing but sickness or death could keep the young people away. Such an occasion started off with a play-game song in order to get everyone in a gay mood. The hostess herself led off in the singing:

Come gather east, come gather west, Come round with Yankee thunder; Break down the power of Mexico And tread the tyrants under.

Everyone knew how to play it. The boys stood on one side of the room, the girls on the other, and when the old woman piped out the very first notes the boys started for the girls, each with an eye on the one of his choice. Sometimes two or more of the young fellows were of the same mind, which added to the fun and friendly rivalry. The one who first caught the right hand of the girl had her for his partner in the dance that would follow. Immediately each couple stepped aside and waited until the others had found a partner. If there was a question about it, the oldest woman present, who by her years was the recognized matchmaker of the community, decided the point.

"Who'll do the calling?" asked the hostess, Aunt Binie.

Everyone knew there was not a better caller anywhere than Uncle Mose, who was just as apt at fiddling. So Uncle Mose proudly took his place in the corner, chair tilted back against the wall. Fiddle to chin, he called out: "Choose your partners!"

With a quick eye he singled out one couple. "Lizzie, you've got a bound to stand to the right of the gent!"

Quickly Lizzie, tittering and blushing, stepped to the other side of Dave.

"And you, Prudie," Uncle Mose waved a commanding hand, "get on the other side of John. You fellows from Fryin' Pan best learn the proper ways here and now."

A wave of laughter swept over the gathering and Uncle Mose, sweeping the bow across the strings, called: "Salute your partner!"

There was bowing and shuffling of feet and, as the tempo of the fiddle increased, heels clicked against the bare floor and the caller's voice rang out above music and laughter:

Salute your corner lady, Salute your partners, all: Swing your corner lady And promenade the hall.

They danced to the fiddle music of O Suzanna and Life on the Ocean Wave, and Uncle Mose had calls to suit any tune:

Swing old Adam Swing Miss Eve, Then swing your partner As you leave.

Now and then a breathless girl would drop out and rest a moment leaning against the wall. And just for fun an oldster like Old Buck Rawlins, who didn't even have a partner, caught up one boot toe and hopped off to a corner moaning:

Sudie, Sudie, my foot is sore, A-dancing on your puncheon floor.

Sometimes a young miss limped off to a chair. "Making out like someone stepped on her toe," Aunt Binie whispered behind her hand, for she knew all the signs of young folks, "but she's just not wanting to dance with Big Foot Jeff Pickett." The next moment Dan Spotswood had pulled himself loose from his cross-eyed partner and made his way to the side of his true love who had limped to the corner.

Nor was Uncle Mose unmindful of what was going on. The caller must have a quick eye, know who is courting, who is on the outs, who craves to be again in the arms of so and so. Quick as a flash he shouted, "Which shall it be Butterfly Swing or Captain Jinks?"

"Captain Jinks," cried Dan Spotswood jovially. For Dan knew the ways of the mountains. He didn't want any hard feelings with anyone. This dance would give all an opportunity to mingle and exchange partners. Even though Big Foot had tried his best to break up the match between him and Nellie, Dan meant that that fellow shouldn't have the satisfaction of knowing his jealousy. So he urged the couples into the circle. Dan, however, did see to it that he had Nellie's hand as they circled halfway around the crowded room before following the familiar calls of the play-party game as they sang the words along with the lively notes of the fiddle. They were words that their grandparents had sung in the days of the Civil War, with some latter-day changes:

Captain Jinks came home last night. Pass your partner to the right; Swing your neighbor so polite, For that's the style in the army.

All join hands and circle left, Circle left, circle left, All join hands and circle left, For that's the style in the army.

They saluted partners, they stepped and circled, and sashayed, they fairly galloped around the room, much to the disapproval of old Aunt Binie. "I don't favor no such antic ways. They're steppin' too lively." Her protest was heeded.

The fiddler stopped short. Folks were respectful in that day and time.

"Mose," the hostess called out to the fiddler when he had rested a little while, "please to strike up the tune Pop Goes the Weasel."

No sooner said than done. The notes of the fiddle rang out and Uncle Mose himself led off in the singing:

A penny for a spool of thread, A penny for a needle,

while old and young joined in the singing as each lad stepped gallantly to the side of the girl of his choice and went through the steps of the Virginia Reel.

Though all knew every step and danced with grace and ease, they perhaps did not know that the dance was that of Sir Roger de Coverley; that it was one of a large number of English country dances, so called, not because they were danced in the country, but because their English ancestors corrupted the French word contredanse, which had to do with the position the dancers assume. Of one thing they could be sure, however, they owed it to their elders that this charming dance had survived.

With what charming ease even old Aunt Binie with an aged neighbor went through the lovely figures of the Virginia Reel, harking back to the days of powdered wigs, buckled shoes, satin breeches and puffed skirts, as the head lady and foot gentleman skipped forward to meet each other in the center of the set. How gracefully she bowed to him and he to her with hand upon his chest, as they returned to their places!