CHAPTER IX--THE DANCING ACADEMY.
Of all the dancing academies that ever were established, there never was one more popular in its immediate vicinity than Signor Billsmethi's, of the 'King's Theatre.' It was not in Spring-gardens, or Newman-street, or Berners-street, or Gower-street, or Charlotte-street, or Percy-street, or any other of the numerous streets which have been devoted time out of mind to professional people, dispensaries, and boarding-houses; it was not in the West-end at all--it rather approximated to the eastern portion of London, being situated in the populous and improving neighbourhood of Gray's-inn-lane.

It was not a dear dancing academy--four-and-sixpence a quarter is decidedly cheap upon the whole.

It was _very_ select, the number of pupils being strictly limited to seventy-five, and a quarter's payment in advance being rigidly exacted.

There was public tuition and private tuition--an assembly-room and a parlour.

Signor Billsmethi's family were always thrown in with the parlour, and included in parlour price; that is to say, a private pupil had Signor Billsmethi's parlour to dance _in_, and Signor Billsmethi's family to dance _with_; and when he had been sufficiently broken in in the parlour, he began to run in couples in the assembly-room.
Such was the dancing academy of Signor Billsmethi, when Mr.Augustus Cooper, of Fetter-lane, first saw an unstamped advertisement walking leisurely down Holborn-hill, announcing to the world that Signor Billsmethi, of the King's Theatre, intended opening for the season with a Grand Ball.
Now, Mr.Augustus Cooper was in the oil and colour line--just of age, with a little money, a little business, and a little mother, who, having managed her husband and _his_ business in his lifetime, took to managing her son and _his_ business after his decease; and so, somehow or other, he had been cooped up in the little back parlour behind the shop on week-days, and in a little deal box without a lid (called by courtesy a pew) at Bethel Chapel, on Sundays, and had seen no more of the world than if he had been an infant all his days; whereas Young White, at the gas-fitter's over the way, three years younger than him, had been flaring away like winkin'-- going to the theatre--supping at harmonic meetings--eating oysters by the barrel--drinking stout by the gallon--even out all night, and coming home as cool in the morning as if nothing had happened.