The dancing, as usual, was rather perfunctory, if one excepts a _pas de
deux_ which gave promise of a parody of the Russians and turned out to
be just a series of contortionist feats, brilliant but unlovely.
As good wine needs no bush, so good babes need no wood; but Messrs.
McCLEERY and HUMPHRIES painted for them a quite nice one, where, after
some very pleasant business with a brace of giant mushrooms that went
up and down like a lift, the robins came and camouflaged the wanderers
under a counterpane of fallen leaves, where they behaved much better
than in ordinary beds. But the best scene was M. MARC HENRI's Temple of
Peace--very beautiful with its dim perspective, till the garish light of
"The Day" was turned on. Here the assertive colours of the Allies were
tempered to an exquisite pale harmony, only slightly damaged by a
nondescript contingent in pink (possibly neutrals) and the apparition of
Mr. ARTHUR COLLINS and other gentlemen in black, who came on to receive
the expression of our grateful approbation.
I stayed long enough into the Harlequinade to see little Prince OLAF of
Norway, in QUEEN ALEXANDRA's box, capture a large cracker dexterously
flung to him by the Pantaloon. So ended for me an evening more jocund
than I have had the good grace to admit.
O.
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