It was difficult for "an outsider" to become a spectator of the peculiar modes of teaching adopted and practiced by these masters. At a small extra rate, they would undertake to give instructions in that "deportment," of which the late Mr. Turvey-drop was such an illustrious exemplar. I never witnessed anything of this sort, but have conversed on the subject with some who did. From what I could learn, the whole course of tuition in this particular branch must have been ludicrous in the extreme. Besides lessons in standing, walking, sitting, and even leaning with grace and ease, more recondite points were considered. Such were "how to slide out of a room backwards" (on the chance, no doubt, of some of the rustics having to appear at Court, before Royalty)--"how to accept a tumbler of punch from a gentleman," touching the liquid with her lips, so as to leave a kiss within the cup, as Ben Jonson advises,--"how to refuse a kiss," and yet not destroy the hope of its being accepted, a little later in the evening,--and, above all, "how to take a kiss," in the most genteel and approved manner of politeness! These instructions, super-added to a lesson that was called "the Grecian bend" (which was nothing less than a coquettish way of leaning forward, with the eyes cast down, while listening to soft nonsense from a favoured swain), were peculiar and private. The only way in which the male sex could obtain a glimpse at such Eleusinian mysteries was by taking a recumbent position on the roof of the house, carefully removing a small portion of the thatch, and using eyes and ears in that situation to the best advantage. If detected by the irate maidens, the spy would run a fair chance of a scratched face and well-boxed ears.

As might be expected, the country dancing-master sometimes had stupid and refractory pupils. There was a common method of giving them instruction, which, for its practical simplicity, may be worth relating. When the pupil would persist in _not_ recollecting which foot was to be used, at particular periods, the dancing-master would take a rope made of twisted hay, called a _suggaun_, and fasten it around one of the delinquent's ankles. He would then take a similar bracelet of twisted willow, denominated a _gad_, and put this on the other. Then, instead of directing the pupil to the particular use or motion of the right leg or the left, he would exclaim, "Rise upon _suggaun_," or "Sink upon _gad_," and in this manner convey his instructions beyond a possibility of mistake by even the most stupid!

Bits of Blarney — Part 142