Hop, and over-two-three, over-two-three-four-five, over two-three-four-five, over-two-three-four-five.
The whispers of dance shoes against the floor.
The giggles of girls, their backs to the window.
Rhythmic, bouncing Irish music.
Girls, talking, and laughing. Hard shoes clatter against the floor, as they are tugged onto feet, and the soft shoes fall to the ground with only a soft whisper.
One girl stands, and stands in the middle of the room. She waits, until she is joined by several others, and soon, the room is filled with chattering voices and clattering shoes.
"Stand on the tape lines, girls!"
Shoes tap against the ground. Girls rush to position themselves.
"We're doing rallies, now."
"Heels up, girls!"
"Louder! Louder! Wake the baby!"
The sound intensifies, but the little baby boy just keeps sleeping.
The music ends, and the teacher smiles.
"My only complaint is that you didn't wake the baby," she says with a wink.
The music starts, and soon the room is filled with rhythmic clattering, timed perfectly to the music.
The Dandy Lioness