The manager of the dance called a constable who was present, and
told him to arrest the party, and handcuff them and take them to the
Oshkosh insane asylum, where they had escaped. The young men explained
that they were not crazy, and that it was only a new kind of dance, and
they were reluctantly allowed to remain, on condition that they "wouldn't
cut up any more of them city monkey shines, not afore folks."
SUMMER RESORTING.
The other day a business man who has one of the nicest houses in the
nicest ward in the city, and who has horses and carriages in plenty, and
who usually looks as clean as though just out of a band box and as happy
as a schoolma'am at a vacation picnic, got on a street car near the depot,
a picture of a total wreck. He had on a long linen duster, the collar
tucked down under the neck band of his shirt, which had no collar on, his
cuffs were sticking out of his coat pocket, his eyes looked heavy, and
where the dirt had come off with the perspiration he looked pale and he
was cross as a bear.
[Illustration: THE RESORTER.]
A friend who was on the car, on the way up town, after a day's work, with
a clean shirt on, a white vest and a general look of coolness, accosted
the traveler as follows:
"Been summer resorting, I hear?"
The dirty-looking man crossed his legs with a painful effort, as though
his drawers stuck to his legs and almost peeled the back off, and
answered:
"Yes, I have been out two weeks.
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