BURBANK : Kids Kick Up Their Heels for Bob Hope Show

The old comedian carried off his routine without a hitch, with the air of one to whom performance is more familiar than life.

And the kids, well, they made a few missteps. But no one raised an eyebrow. After all, Bob Hope had 60 years to learn his act, and they had only two hours.

The scene was a rehearsal hall at NBC, where Hope, 90, was holding a news conference to promote his Christmas TV special and the new album he cut recently with wife Dolores.

It was also billed as an audition for 10 Los Angeles-area children, ages 8 to 14, who will dance during the program.

The children did dance, although to what degree they were auditioning wasn’t clear. They had already been selected from a pool of 300 during a grueling seven-hour session Monday. The choreographers now talked of maybe replacing a few. But the children, and their mothers, seemed certain that their spots were fixed.

Hope, in a blue suit and white tennis shoes, paused for a quick introduction to his dancers as he entered the hall. Helped onto the stage, he and Dolores were soon settled under the lights surrounded by about a dozen men with television cameras.

Hope--or more often, Dolores--answered questions such as “This has been quite a year for you, hasn’t it?” while the children peered through the door.

Just ordinary kids, is how their mothers describe them. Ordinary kids with agents.

Most said they had been dancing since they were toddlers. Some were part of local dance companies and practice a couple of hours each day. All seemed polished beyond their years and had ready answers when asked about the show business legend.

Meeting Hope was “the experience of a lifetime,” declared 12-year-old Joey Tarwater of Norwalk in response to a reporter’s question.

Off camera, 8-year-old Maya Johnson was more brash: “I had never heard of him until my mom told me about him.”

After the dance, there was a pause for photos. Hope was escorted out and the dancers headed for the cafeteria. Over french fries and pumpkin pie, they became ordinary kids again, dropping the smiles each adopted at the sight of a camera.

Future legends? Fay Epps, mother of 10-year-old Elena, screwed up her face at the thought.

“Well . . . it’s one of those things you can’t stop,” said Epps, a dietitian from Reseda. “Once in front of a crowd they light up. I guess you can’t stop a personality like that.”