213@
low piazza, as it threw off the music, the
quaint Indian accompaniment to those
stamping, shuffling, skipping feet, to the
queer little half-savage syllables, borrowed
from the Creek Indians, upon the
lips of the chanting, dancing girls, to
the coconut hand-rattle wielded by Aponi,
the Butterfly, most fairy-like of the green
dancers, as she led and led, in honor of
the new idlwissi, or tree-hair, the listening
leaves--ethereal partners overhead.

Containing little pebbles picked from
the lake-side, with a stick running through
[[213]]

p212 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p213w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p214

v?