Saratoga in 1901 | ||
Love and geography.
Miss Clara Bowers says
to-day that she hopes to
fall in love with a bald-headed
man. She says
such a head would be such
a nice place to draw monograms
on, and then it
would make a nice globe
on which to draw maps
for the children.
Congress Hall, July 19.
The races have come and gone!
The cars, yesterday, were full of
thoroughbreds — both men and
horses—bound for the metropolis.
John Harper has returned to the
“bed and board” of Longfellow,
and Morrissey, like the Arab,
“has folded his tent and silently
stole away” to his roulette and
rouge-et-noir.
WHAT WE DO NOW.
Yesterday we went to the races
—and bet; to-day Congress Hall has become a studious,
reading household.
“What are you reading?” I asked of a literary young
lady who come down with a lap full of books this
morning.
“O! I've got all the sensations—here is `Dame Europa's
School,' here's `The Battle of Dorking,' here's `Ginx's Baby,'
here's `Milbank,' here's `The Franco-Prussian
War'—in a nutshell, and
here's `Bret Harte's poems.”'
“Which is the best?”
“Well, `Ginx's Baby' is a very
pleasant satire.”
Saratoga in 1901 | ||