For weeks before
the ball comes off--and here let it be understood that I mean the ball
to cover hops, dancing parties and all manner of dancing--the young
people are wild with excitement; they are almost wholly incapable of any
kind of business. All manner of domestic affairs are almost entirely
neglected by the girls and young wives. The bright anticipation of great
pleasure in the near future, turns some of their little shallow brains
up-side-down, and they are often seen in a sort of deep reverie, wearing
a blank gaze, having very much the appearance of poor unfortunate
idiots. If the father, mother, husband, brother or teacher speaks to
them, unless it be on the subject of the ball, they grin like a baboon
and snap like a mad dog. If we run on at the rate we are now going, it
will not be a great while until it may be found to be cheaper to build a
few asylums for the sane, and let the idiots and lunatics run at large.
THE BALL. THE HOP. THE DANCE.
IT IS ALL THE SAME.
Well, the long looked for day has come; it is now 8 P.M., and the boys,
girls and young wives are in their rooms donning their new and costly
apparel, which has been bought, borrowed or _stolen_ in divers and
sundry ways. Some have been paid for, some will be paid for, and some
will remain open accounts until judgment day.
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