 | Eli Perkins (at large) |  |
BROWN'S BOYS AT SARATOGA.
HOW INNOCENT YOUNG MEN ARE DECEIVED.
Saratoga, July 8th.
Yesterday a remarkable
case of misplaced confidence
came out up at the aristocratic
United States.
A kind old millionaire father
was staying there with two
daughters. He was said to
be very wealthy. He himself
talks of putting $500,000 into
a national bank. Under the
circumstances, of course the
Brown's Boys have been very sweet on the eldest young
lady. They (and one especially) have been always on
hand with bouquets and bon-bons. Absolute devotion
are no words to express this young man's polite attention.
Thus the thing has been going on for a week.
All at once yesterday the most devoted young man fell
off. He looked pale and excited. Then he gave up
his aristocratic room at the States, and took cheap
rooms at Congress Hall. Here he looked the picture
of discouragement.
Meeting him this morning I asked him what was the
matter.
Why, Eli,” said he, as he heaved a great sigh, “I've
been over to eat black bass at Meyers's; we've bowled
and breakfasted at Moon's, and I don't know what
we haven't done.”
“Well, Gus, what of that?” I asked.
“Nothing, only I've been fooled—deceived. You
know Miss K—'s father is rich?”
“Yes—a millionaire.”
“And I've been devoted to her for a week?”
“Yes, I've noticed it.”
“Spent lots of money on her for bouquets and drives,
and—”
“And what, Gus, w-h-a-t?”
“Why, Will Clark knows the family. He was groomsman
at the old fellow's first daughter's wedding.”
“Was it a big one?” I asked.
“Yes, a swell affair on Madison avenue. But when
the poor young husband went to get into the carriage
to start on his bridal tour, the old tight-fisted dromedary
of a father-in-law gave his bride-daughter—how
much do you think?”
“Why, I suppose a check for $20,000, Gus.”
“A check for $20,000! Thunderation! The tight-fisted
old fool handed her a $10 bill, and Will Clark
says he'll be blessed if he has ever given her a penny
since; and here I've been wasting bouquets and a
whole week's time on the second daughter, and—”
And then Gus chewed the end of his cigar violently,
and wiped the cold drops of perspiration from his
forehead. He was a broken-hearted victim of misplaced
confidence.
I told him to cheer up. I told him that he was like
all of us—that it goes against the reason of a young
man nowadays to take an old man's extravagant daughter
for nothing. I told him that once we had visions
of supporting our fathers-in-law—of giving them large
sums of money; but now, alas! things have changed,
and fathers who deceive us, as you have just been
deceived, ought not to be allowed to run at large.
They should be instantly arrested. They are confidence
men—stumbling blocks and snares in the pathway
of innocent, confiding young men.
“Alas, Eli!” he sighed, as the big tears rolled down
his cheeks, “when will we poor innocent young men
cease to be deceived by our sweethearts' fathers?
There ain't any more honest love. It is all planning
and plotting, lying and conspiracy, Eli. The old
women lie, and say the girls have large fortunes. Old
men talk to unsuspecting young men about establishing
$500,000 banks. Brothers lie and say their sisters
have large expectations, and the girls—even the girls,
Eli—why, they lie their heads on some sweet Albert's
shoulder down in New York and then come up here
and make believe they are not engaged. They take
our bouquets and bon-bons, and then, alas! they let
us slide down the pathway of life alone.
Somebody should be arrested!
| Eli Perkins (at large) | |