THE oldest juvenile dancers in the panto are 12 years old, the youngest is only seven. Typical kids, they are shy, chatty, funny and giggly - and all utterly, devastatingly, professional.

From now until the end of January they will be dancing two days on, two days off in Beauty and the Beast at Darlington Civic Theatre. They've been in rehearsals since late November for their roles as village children, woodland animals and a candlestick. Particularly tricky, that candlestick.

Rehearsals have been hard, tiring, demanding. But the children thrive on it.

"We just love dancing," says Natalie. "That's the best bit, dancing on the stage for people."

"It's a lot better than sitting on your bottom doing maths," says Katy to a chorus of cheers from the rest of Red Team.

They all have to be licensed and are allowed time off school to work - but have to go back to their lessons in between so don't always get as much time off school as they might like. (Cue groans.)

There are two teams of eight, with a spare who can fit in anywhere, all of them attending the dancing school run by Joanne Banks in Spennymoor. They live in Spennymoor, Newton Aycliffe, Chilton, Bishop Auckland. Their work time is limited by legislation, but is still tough.

"We were given the choreography and had ten days to get things right," says Joanne, "and the dancers, even the youngest - Stuart Thompson, who was only six when he was Michael in Peter Pan last year - are expected to have the same standards of professionalism as someone two, three or even four times their age. There are no concessions made for them. None at all."

Rehearsals can easily run from 10am to 10pm. "And that's when we have to get one team off and another one on. They can't do those hours. There are strict laws. We have to look after the children and make sure they keep within their limits."

Rehearsals are notoriously unpredictable. There are frequent changes, last minute re-scheduling, extra rehearsals slipped in.

"It's all right for the company manager, he just deals with the people in front of him. We have to liaise with 17 sets of parents... Luckily, they are wonderfully understanding and flexible, but sometimes it's a nightmare.

"Schools, too, are very good. We apply early on for a blanket permission to take them out for work, but they're in and out a bit," says Joanne.

Katy seems utterly unfazed. "We have to keep up with our school work and I'm in a school play too," she says, "so I've got two lots of rehearsals on the go."

"Schools are happy about it," says Joanne, whose dad was a headmaster, "because they can see how much it does for the children. It's a terrific experience. They really grow in confidence."

For the children, though, there are other compensations, such as meeting the stars. "The Grumbleweeds are great," says Jessica. "They do Little Britain impressions and make us all laugh. We have to work hard but it's fun being here."

They think Zoe Birkett's "really lovely". And they are all, with the exception of Thomas, the only boy in Red Team, in love with Anthony from Big Brother. "He's gorgeous!" they all chorus and collapse into reassuring giggles.

During rehearsals the girls, especially the 12-year-olds, have the habit of grabbing the seats either side of Anthony's bag or jacket, in the hope he'll come back to them. Once you get the panto bug, it's hard to get rid of it. Some of the children are back for a second year. "It's nicer coming back the second time because you know what it's going to be like and you're not so nervous," says Raygen.

But there's only a limited time. Once they're five foot tall, that's it. It's not only age, but height that qualifies you to be a juvenile dancer. Some of the girls at four foot eleven and three quarter inches, are already feeling sad.

But they will probably never lose that fascination. Joanne's assistant Kay Clarey and chaperone, student Catriona Long, were both former panto dancers.

"Once you've done it, it just gets to you. It's magical. It's just great being part of it," says Catriona, as she chivvies children onto stage, not forgetting bags, jackets, shoes...

Joanne, now 35, first started out as a panto juvenile at the Forum in Billingham, having started dance lessons as a three-year-old. The last thing she wanted to be was a teacher.

"When I was 17, 18, I was a professional dancer, travelled all over Europe and to Japan. Then when I was 19, at home in between jobs I thought I'd do a bit of teaching, just short-term."

Twenty seven children turned up for her first class. Now she has more than 200 in a solid programme of lessons at her Spennymoor studio.

For the last ten years she has provided the young dancers for the Civic and this year her pupils are also in the panto at the Gala in Durham.

"We have 40 dancers out altogether. It's great, but it's really hard work. The trickiest thing, actually, is choosing children for the teams.

"You have to have the right mix of the quiet and the outgoing. Too many shy ones and the personality won't come across the stage. Too many over confident ones and it gets difficult. The secret is in the right mix. Luckily, I'm hyper-organised, otherwise we'd never do it."

To add to the chaos, Joanne also has a new baby - Cassidy, now seven months - who made his first appearance on stage at three months old in a specially created role in a production of 42nd Street. Dad Simon, a drama teacher, was the producer. Joanne would be more than happy if Cassidy followed in her dancing footsteps.

"The children get so much out of being in the panto. You see them blossoming, growing in confidence. They have a hard job to do and have to master it in a short time. When they've done that, they're right to feel proud. It's a terrific experience for them."

It also means a lot of discipline for the dancers. When they are actually rehearsing, there's no time to be silly or fool around.

"It's not always easy for them at first," says Joanne. "We live in different times even from when I was a child. They're not used to being told what to do and having to do it straight away. But in something like this you have to.

"When you come to dancing classes, it's not just dancing you learn, but the importance of discipline, of practice, of working together. They know these things don't come easily. But when they realise what they can achieve, the benefits are tremendous."

The photographer has arrived and the dancers go up on stage for their picture. They do exactly what they're asked, go through the routines, again and again while the lighting's being adjusted. Each time they are perfectly in step, smiles polished. And as they come down the steps, they each, very politely, say "thank you", with just a hint of a giggle and a forgotten jacket to prove they are normal children.

Such politeness, such discipline, such professionalism. It's a real treat.

No wonder pantomimes are magic.