. St. Nicholas [serial] . ry and get out of it in any way. He wasface to face with his own folly. And the worst was not yet, for the inscrip-tion said : If you would know more, pressthe button. Know more ? Aye, there wasthe rub ! He knew enough already ; but yet—.He looked out of the window; he sat down;he looked out again, and, turning it all overin his mind, he sat down once more, and reso-lutely pressed the button! Forth from theopening in the box emerged a form, dim,shadowy, but yet defined. It paused a mo-ment ; a huge groan came from its pale lips, itsprang into the air, and, dancing a h
. St. Nicholas [serial] . ry and get out of it in any way. He wasface to face with his own folly. And the worst was not yet, for the inscrip-tion said : If you would know more, pressthe button. Know more ? Aye, there wasthe rub ! He knew enough already ; but yet—.He looked out of the window; he sat down;he looked out again, and, turning it all overin his mind, he sat down once more, and reso-lutely pressed the button! Forth from theopening in the box emerged a form, dim,shadowy, but yet defined. It paused a mo-ment ; a huge groan came from its pale lips, itsprang into the air, and, dancing a half meas-ure, placed its thin hand to its brow, crackedits heels together—6, 7, 8—and was gone!The Cracovienne had been Bobbys especial betenoire, and now, as danced by a visible groan,it took on even a color of witchery thatstartled, if it did not frighten him. TheHighland Fling groan, a shade less com-bative in quality, and clad in a costumeplainly national, shook its plaid, and heeled- BOBBYS CHRISTMAS DREAM. 389. BOBBY RECOGNIZES THE GHOSTS OF HIS GROANS. and-toed away to nothing, without grace, butwith skill. Then came a groan which Bobbyrecognized as the ghost of that uttered by him-self because of his disgust when called upon toperform the Sailors Hornpipe. The mourn-ful Yo,— heave, ho-0-0! with which the airy sprite pulled up the anchor, tugged atthe ropes, waved its handkerchief in adieu tofriends ashore, and shuffled out of sight, was allonly too familiar to poor Bobby. And close inits wake, just a little less deep and a littlemore refined in sound, was the real spirit of the Cachucha, Bobby hadnever caught, nor even felt; his Yankee legshad always failed to give the Spanish , to mock him for his blindness and lack ofsuccess, its proper grace was revealed to him ata glance when the fantastic vision, entering witha sigh rather than groan, bent its supple bodyto the strains of music unheard by mortal ears,and bowed its exit to the mysterie
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Keywords: ., bookauthordodgemar, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870, bookyear1873
