NO GREATER SOCIAL CONTRAST
could possibly be planned than
that which came about by chance
last Thursday night. Two of the
most fashionable houses in town
were occupied by assemblages of
dancers. One was the residence
of Mrs. William Astor, wherein
was crowded that portion of New
York people who regard
themselves and are generally
regarded as constituting "our
best society." The entertainment
was given in honor of Miss
Marion Langdon, and it had all
the qualities deemed most
desirable on such resplendent
occasions. There was even less
of the too demonstrative
conviviality on the part of
those young fellows who, at the
former private balls this
Winter, have drunk too
recklessly of the champagne and
grabbed too hoggishly at the
free cigars. Mrs. Astor
instituted something of a reform
in this sad matter by furnishing
the great supper room with tiny
tables, at which the ladies sat
for refreshment and were served
by the men. This device kept the
former offenders employed during
the time of eating and drinking
and in the restraining presence
of femininity. There were no
temperance influences at the
other ball which I have
mentioned. On the wicked
contrary, everything possible
was done to encourage inebriety.
I have said that the house of
this second congregation was
fashionable, and so it is, if
occupancy as a rule by very
polite and wealthy folks is
enough to make it so, for it is
the Academy of Music, home of
Italian opera in New York. But
the directors ask no questions
of anybody who comes along with
$1,200 with which to pay the
rental for a night; and the
tenant this time was the keeper
of the infamous Prospect Garden,
who brought together in a
masquerade the lowest wretches
in town and such men as cared to
look on the indecencies.
LORD GARMOYLE WAS ONE OF MRS.
ASTOR'S guests. it is
difficult to write much about
New York's ultra fashionable
sociability without mentioning
Lord Garmoyle once more, so
constant and unique is his
participation. His aristocratic
standing in England was a
sufficient passport for entry
into circles which purport to be
difficult of access, and he
receives five times the
invitations which time and his
personal slowness permit him to
accept. But he is somewhere or
other every night; and the odd
fact is that, while his
sycophants hug him they make wry
faces over his s shoulder. In
plain terms, he is an object of
ridicule. The American instinct
of humor cannot be wholly
suppressed by an acquired taste
for titled Britons. At the clubs
too, he is a welcome visitor;
and yet it was in the wealthiest
and largest of them, the Union
League that he was practically
joked in the neatest and most
artistic manner. He sat there in
a group of young fellows. close
by lounged several hard headed
old chaps, to whom he was a mild
diversion. One of these was idly
turning the pages of an
illustrated book on
architecture. "By heaven, that's
the ugliest gargoyle I ever set
eyes on," he suddenly exclaimed.
Garmoyle was almost agitated and
his companions turned red at the
supposed criticism of M'Lud. But
a subsequent reference to a
dictionary has taught them that,
though they may happen to be
equally ugly, a gargoyle and a
Garmoyle are not the same.
THE OPENING OF THE ATHLETIC
CLUB'S NEW HOUSE was a
brilliant ceremony, too. There
was dancing, in which some of
the girls who had members for
waltzing partners must have felt
as though they were in the arms
of cast iron men worked by steam
power, for it was natural that
the cultivators of muscle should
desire to illustrate their
progress, and it was but once in
a dozen turns that some of the
lighter belles fairly rested
their soles on the floor. And
there were puny chaps, moreover,
who, in imagination, arose to
the brawn of the occasion and
explained to their gentle
friends the workings of the
gymnastic machinery with a
proprietary air which seemed to
say: "I could astonish you by
croaking the joints of that
thing if I didn't think it
impolite to show brute force in
your presence."
HOW DO THESE ITALIANS AFFORD
SO MUCH FOOD for so little
money? I can enlighten you. The
most careful purchaser I ever
saw was a man in the great
Washington Market. He was going
from stall to stall, literally
nosing out bargains in fish,
flesh, fowl and vegetables. His
sense of smell was his guide in
making purchases. He sought
things that were not yet in
decay, but would be on the
morrow. In that way he secured
very low prices. The articles
which he bought at half rates,
or still lower, were those which
the dealer would have lost
altogether if not sold that day.
The quantities purchased were
considerable, and I was curious
to know what was to be done with
them. "He is the caterer for one
of the table d'hote dinners,"
said the butcher of whom I
inquired. "They buy mighty
close, those fellows. They can't
be fooled in the least. They can
tell by sniffing at a turkey
that it isn't tainted yet, but
will be in a few hours; and
having bought the fowl at a
fraction of the market price for
prime best, they get it cooked
and down the throats of their
customers before the process of
rotting has time to fairly
begin. it is the same way with
all they buy. How else could
they make any money?"
MR. CLEVELAND ENDED HIS VISIT
TO TOWN with arduous hours
of listening to the advice and
information which, in accordance
with his invitation published
before he came, uncounted
politicians have given to him.
The entry of mere cranks was
made difficult by Secretary
Lamont, who received all callers
in an anteroom and decided
whether to let them go into the
President elect's presence.
Scenes of persistence, amounting
often to altercation, have been
almost incessant. But there was
no hindrance to the man who,
careless in manner and confident
in speech, introduced himself
tot he sentry as Senator
Garland. If Lamont had known
Garland he would have promptly
excluded the chap as an
impostor, for he did not in the
remotest resemble that
gentleman; but, as it was, the
bogus Garland was politely
ushered in. Once seated at Mr..
Cleveland's table he boldly
declared himself to be no
politician but the inventor of a
machine for spirit telegraphy.
His device consisted of a short
telegraphic line, with the end
for mortals running into an
ordinary receiver, while the end
for ghosts was attached to an
apparatus by means of which
invisible operators could send
or get messages. He had drawings
in a bulky roll, and he urgently
invited Mr. Cleveland to go with
him to see a model. What he
desired was Government aid to
bring out his invention. His
talk was so wildly entertaining
that he got full ten minutes of
Mr.. Cleveland's time.
IN THE WAY OF THEATRICALS,
we are admiring and ridiculing
Booth and Barrett. Admiration is
dominant, of course, but
occasionally we have to laugh it
their in tensest tragedy. We do
this to Barrett, for instance,
when he gallops, snorting like a
frightened pony, as Cassius,
from the scene of Caesar's
death. It is absurd. As for
Booth, for a moment in "The
Apostate" he was guyed like any
other actor who had suddenly
become comical in the midst of
intense emotion. It happened at
a juncture when he thought he
had fooled and cajoled the
unwilling maiden to his purpose.
Then she turned on him with new
and unexpected disdain. He was
crouching in an attitude of
mingled cunning, expectation and
exultation; but on hearing her
adverse decision he sprang quite
clear of the floor, grimaced
frightfully and yelled
"Damnation!" It was as though he
had dropped a fifty pound weight
by accident on his tenderest
corn. The audience broke
instantly into a roar of
merriment.