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When it came to "SaWEENG your podners!" the room billowed with flying skirts, and the ladies squealed like anything.
And there were two or three other fellows with badges on that went around shouting: "Select your podners for the next quadrille! One more couple wanted right over here!" Dancing. M-hm. The fiddler "called off" and chanted to the tune, with his mouth on one side: "Sullootch podners! First couple forward and back. Side couples the same. Doe see do-o-o-o.
The noise and clatter of a dance caller bellowed forth as he shouted for everybody to grab their "podners one an' all, do-se-do, promenade th' hall!" and Fairchild, as he watched, saw that his lack of dancing ability would not be a serious handicap. There were many others who did not know the old numbers.
I never will." "S'lute yo' podners!" The dance was on. And while the music squealed from the rostrum, while the swaying forms some way made the rounds according to the caller's viewpoint of an old-time dance, Anita Richmond evidently "thought about it."
She stood alone, looking about the hall, laughing and nodding, and then she looked at him! Fairchild did not wait. From the platform at the end of the big room the fiddles had begun to squeak, and the caller was shouting his announcements. Couples began to line up on the floor. The caller's voice grew louder: "Two more couples two more couples! Grab yo' podners!"
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