 | CHAPTER II. Saratoga in 1901 |  |
2. CHAPTER II.
C'est un programme de la Renaissance.
Yesterday was a dreary day. Mr. Wheatley postponed the
races that the rain might go on undisturbed. Saratoga gathered
her 10,000 guests within doors. The merry laugh went on in the
hotel parlors despite the howling tempest without. Those who
patronized the shooting galleries and rode on the revolving
wooden horses in front of the Clarendon were careful to carry
umbrellas. Giddy misses and thoughtless young gentlemen, who
do not believe in punishment after death, played euchre for
caramels in the great hotel halls, while the more sober clergymen,
smoked their cigars in solemnity, read my religious sermon of
yesterday, and talked about the races. Senator Bayard, Senator
Robertson, and Simeon Cameron played draw-poker, with
nothing to mar their pleasure but the storm and the absence of
General Nye and General Schenck. Bernstein played dance
music in the parlors, remorseless young women amused us by
dancing the round dances, while the old ladies “killed time” on
embroidery, or talked about the years gone by when they were
the belles of Saratoga. Some of them showed photographs of
themselves in point lace capes, twelve button gloves and diamond
necklaces, and then lectured the young ladies on the extravagance
of the times.
Mrs. General Greene, who was married forty years ago in a
about the economy of Sallie Ward and Madame Le Vert.
Time moves on.
This is a common thing with Time. Twelve o'clock came.
| CHAPTER II. Saratoga in 1901 | |