For the method, which is invariable, except where specially stated, of holding the stick (see p. 60).

In the second four bars of “B,” double-tapping and steps are repeated precisely as in first four bars; and throughout the dance it is the same to “B” music, four bars of double-tapping, repeated, up to the call “All in.”

BLUFF KING HAL.

In this the step is 4/3 throughout.  It should be danced something after the fashion of “Morris-Off,” but not quite so soberly; yet the step is less vigorous than the normal Morris step.  Like “Morris-Off” it has, what with its length and staid monotony, a quaintness all its own.  To teach and to learn the right way of dancing “Bluff King Hal” is more a matter of drill and precision than lusty abandon:  it must be danced evenly, seriously almost, and quite quietly, or its true effect will be marred or lost.

The music is marked ad libitum:  the musician simply brings his labours to an end in whichsoever section he shall hear the warning call of “All in.”  Even the Morris-men themselves do not invariably go through all the movements.  These instructions are given in order that, should audience or dancers weary of the exercise, it can be curtailed.  Where we have taught the dance to novices, we have found, at first, curtailment to be advisable, for the length and monotony of it palled.  Later, however, when the learners had mastered its curious intricacies, we found no weariness amongst them, but a constant demand for every single movement to be performed in its traditional completeness, and over and over again, as long as we chose to play it.  We shall therefore describe it here at length, and leave it to the tact and discretion of the teacher where and when and to what extent it shall upon occasion be abbreviated.  The files should stand as in Corner Dances—­about twelve feet apart.

HOW D’YE DO (CORNER DANCE).

This dance, as will be clearly seen from the Notation (see p. 75), serves as illustration of the national method of settling quarrels—­by a bout of fisticuffs.  All the dances are typical of the race; this one is of course singularly so.  Where boys are found disposed to look favourably upon the Morris dance, “How d’ye do” may be recommended as the very best to encourage the tendency in them.  There is a spice of wholesome rowdiness in the spirit of the dance that will not fail to make itself known and beloved of boys.  Besides, the shaking of hands before the fight, the squaring-up for war, and the reconciliation, can only be given the right robustious ring and defiance by the fighting sex.  Another most engaging feature of “How d’ye do,” is that the notes fitting these words, as will be found, are sung in every instance by the dancers, before, during and after the encounter.  There is plenty of room, there, for a different sounding of the phrase:  for making it ring of challenge, and strife, and victory—­also of honourable defeat, after lusty strokes have been dealt and taken:  the next best thing to a win—­sometimes even a better thing.