Dearest friends, I would be powdering my wig, if I had one. Her Majesty's Ball is less than a quarter of a fortnight away now. I had the recent opportunity to both teach and practice my footwork among some aspiring dancers, young and old, and your humble servant was quite impressed at how quickly they took to grace of the movements.
"Imagine a roomful of people dressed in period attire," I challenged them.
Perhaps they envisioned something like this...
And then, maybe this...
However, I told them, dancing in one's home among friends was almost certainly less formal and more lively, like these happy ones from Germany. Notice how they maneuver through this twisting caper without benefit of a caller, although I think I spot their dancing master walking alongside the set with a critical eye.
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