 | STATISTICS. Saratoga in 1901 |  |
STATISTICS.
“How many young ladies have allowed
their hands to be held willingly?” I
asked of the “statician.”
“1152,” he answered.
“How many unwillingly?”
“None.—Yes, twenty by their
husbands.”
“How many unmarried ladies
have been kissed there?”
“1391—all willingly?”
“How many married ladies have
been kissed there willingly?”
“976—mostly by young lovers.”
“How many wives have been kissed
willingly by husbands?”
“482—but they were other ladies' husbands.”
“Where do these kissers and kissees mostly come from?”
“New York and the Clarendon.”
“What gentlemen have occupied this bench the most for the
last ten years?”
“My statician now opened his book mysteriously, and I read
the names: W. H. C—, J. F—, Mr. G—ves, F. L—d,
O—r, L—stone, —F— Z—ga, C— S—th, E. A.
H—d, J. C—on, P. G—nat, F. J—son, G. L—aw,
F. M—an, J. S—in, O. Ark—urg and 2200 others.—
What a record!!
“How is the proper way to occupy this bench with a sweetheart?”
I asked.
“Never tell?”
“N-e-v-e-r!”
“Well, saunter along with a large daily newspaper, spread it
over your laps, holding it with one hand, while your sweet-heart
holds it with the other. This leaves to each a hand free under
the paper. These hands will naturally seek each other, and there
you can sit and defy detection from the most observing. Such
cases I never watch. They defy detection.”
Now, for the good of humanity, for the benefit of scolding
husbands, loving brides, spooney lovers, and the great army of
flirters at Saratoga, I plead for more benches in the park—more
seats for two persons—more seats close together. Then love will
not have to struggle so hard for a manifestation—then Cupid will
be invited to the shady park and wedding rings will make
the chief commerce of Saratoga. Amen.
| STATISTICS. Saratoga in 1901 | |