The Universal Art

1910

In a splendid series of matinees extending over two weeks, Prof. William P. Jones danced the whole of Gibbon's Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.

The first two colonies were danced in slow time, to the accompaniment of two flutes and a lyre. The poses were statuesque rather than graceful, and the gestures had to them a great deal of the oratorical.

But, beginning with the story of the barbarian invasions in the third volume, Professor Jones' interpretation took on a fury that was almost bacchantic. The sack of Rome by the Vandals in the year 451 was pictured in a veritable tempest of gyrations, leaps and somersaults. The subtle and hidden meanings of the text called for all the resources of the professor's eloquent legs, arms, shoulders, lips and eyes.

A certain obscure passage in life of Attila the Hun, which had long puzzled the scholars, was for the first time made clear to the average man when Professor Jones, standing on one foot, whirled around rapidly in one direction for five minutes, and then instantly reversing himself spun around for ten minutes in the opposite direction.

In the ballroom of the Hotel Taftoftia, during Christmas week, William K. Spriggs, Ph. D., held a number of fashionable audiences spellbound with his marvelous lucid dances in euclid and algebra up to quadratics. Perhaps the very acme of the terpsichorean art was attained in the masterly fluency of body and limbs with which Mr. Spriggs demonstrated that the sum of the angles in any triangle is equal to two right angles. — Simeon Strunsky, in Harper's Weekly.