The reader may be able to conceive a faint idea of my situation. I
was now twenty-three years old, and this was the first time I had
been in civilization since I had left St. Louis, a boy of fifteen.
Here I was, among those swell people, gorgeous in "purple and fine
linen," so to speak; ladies in silks, ruffles and quirlymacues,
gentlemen in broadcloth, gold lace and importance, and I in only
buckskin from head to foot. I would have freely given everything I
possessed to have been out of that, but my excuses failed utterly,
and finally I went into it as I would an Indian fight, put on a
bold front and worked for dear life.
I found it quite different to what I had expected Instead of
making light of me, as I feared they would, each lady in the set
tried to assist me all she could.
When on the floor it seemed to me that every man, woman and child
were looking at me, as indeed they were, or rather at my suit of
buckskin, that, worked full of beads and porcupine quills, was the
most beautiful suit of its kind I have ever seen. But it was so
different from the dress of the others that it made me decidedly
conspicuous. When on the floor and straightened up I felt as if I
were about nine feet high, and that my feet were about twenty
inches long and weighed near fifty pounds each.
The prompter called out, "Balance all!" and I forgot to dance
until all the others were most through balancing, then I turned
loose on the double-shuffle, this being, the only step I knew, and
I hadn't practiced that very much.
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