The Irish dancing-master was also a great hand at match-making, and indeed some of them were known to negociate as such between families as well as individual lovers, with all the ability of a first-rate diplomatist. Unlike the fiddler, the dancing-master had fortunately the use of his eyes; and as there is scarcely any scene in which to a keen observer the symptoms of the passion--to wit, blushings, glances, squeezes of the hand, and stealthy whisperings--are more frequent or significant, so is it no wonder indeed that a sagacious looker-on, such as he generally was, knew how to avail himself of them, and to become in many instances a necessary party to their successful issue.
In the times of our fathers it pretty frequently happened that the dancing-master professed another accomplishment, which in Ireland, at least, where it is born with us, might appear to be a superfluous one; we mean, that of fencing, or, to speak more correctly, cudgel-playing. Fencing-schools of this class were nearly as common in these times as dancing-schools, and it was not at all unusual for one man to teach both.
I have already stated that the Irish dancing-master was for the most part a bachelor. This, however, was one of those general rules which have very little to boast of over their exceptions. I have known two or three married dancing-masters, and remember to have witnessed on one occasion a very affecting circumstance, which I shall briefly mention. Scarlatina had been very rife and fatal during the spring of the year when this occurred, and the poor man was forced by the death of an only daughter, whom that treacherous disease had taken from him, to close his school during such a period as the natural sorrow for those whom we love usually requires. About a month had elapsed, and I happened to be present on the evening when he once more called his pupils together. His daughter had been a very handsome and interesting young creature of sixteen, and was, until cut down like a flower, attending her father’s school at the period I allude to. The business of the school went on much in the usual way, until a young man who had generally been her partner got up to dance. The father played a little, but the music was unsteady and capricious; he paused, and made a strong effort to be firm; the dancing for a moment ceased, and he wiped away a few hot tears from his eyes. Again he resumed, but his eye rested upon the partner of that beloved daughter, as he stood with the hand of another girl in his. “Don’t blame me,” said the poor fellow meekly, at the same time laying aside his fiddle and bursting into tears; “she was all I had, and my heart was in her; sure you are all here _but her_, and she---- Go home, boys and girls, oh, go home and pity me. You knew what she was. Give me another fortnight for Mary’s sake, for, oh, I am her father! I will meet you all again; but never, never will I see you here without feeling that I have a breaking heart. I miss the light sound of her foot, the sweetness of her voice, and the smile of the eye that said to me, ‘these are all your _scholars_, father, but I, sure I am _your daughter_.’” Although the occasion was joyous and mirthful, yet such is the sympathy with domestic sorrow entertained in Ireland, that there were few dry eyes present, and not a heart that did not feel deeply and sincerely for his melancholy and most afflicting loss.
