The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1875-09-04

Up and DON, ana 1 Ticc
Mcdaniel ad Morrisey and Mr.: Belmont
were smokix aud looking on. The race
track locke like q Louisiana plantation
| on Christina morning. The little darkcys
were spunelg oG the horses and swearing
lust asfthe' d. on week days, only 'hey
had on cleu shirts.
Why ont you horscmen ever oet on u,
my horse, Price ? asked Mr. be,moh' ol
Price M.Grath? You never bull my
stock. ..,
Whv. vcs We do, Mr.. Belmont, l bet
on yomr horse at the last race, and
And NV horse lost. and you lost your
ronn, Tr;ce said Belmont sympathcti.
caiiy.
NJ; oct your horse would Iosc anu
he di /, and won two hundred dollar-
said MI. NcGrath.
Its all perfectly natural, sail McDan-
iel a little while after, to have religion
without Price, for we've had Price without
rcl giou for years and years.
SUNDAY ON THE BALCONY.
From the race track I rode back to the
bntel. l wanted to find place for rest
and meditation. The balconies were filled
with worldly minded young ladies and
! gentlemen. They tramped up and down
in low necksand short sleeves witt, sweep
ing trains b.hind. The tickled goddess
of Fortune vas everywhere. She lined
the sof 3, topped all over the chair 8, stood
| up in the elevator, and gossipped and
lautirtd and scandaIiz d her ncighbors.
Sentimental young gentlemen" were whis
pcrinp love in the flushed faces of flirting
girls. Dashing widows were listening to
saucy double etendrCs from rapid Union
Club n,en before gosg TO Morrisscy sand
old maids were coiparing prd'grccs or
estimating the revcrcs Of coming
bachelors. All was worldly confusion.
How could rcAcc and rest?
,J,ittle girls came along with bouquets.
They Wutk them into my face with their
swcet"Won't --yers-pleasc--buy--sir?'
Young men trying to get chance to pro-
pose, wanted to Introduce me to their
swecthcart'- sister. k'rriagc men wanted
to let me carria .,reak tho Sabbath
with. Boys v" .eto buy water ILL
lea, and ollm. ed to talk politics
and stock. Con .rcc-wickcd com
nercc was everywhere. The fumes of
Racchus filled my nostrils. Worldly
opera music, grated my ears, ard court
train dresses trailcd before my eyes.
What could l do?
, What could |, poor, lone Christian
orphan do? | could not rest. could
not get away from wicked fashion and
frvolity. l wanted sleep Finally an
idea struck me found IL retired nook in
dark corner Of tir balcony, \ wrote n
placard--a sort of personal kcep-otf- the
grass placard, and pinned it on my back.
while bent my head down on the railing.
| held one of John pauls dismal letters
before my eyes to'havc 4 sornnfcrous ef-
feet ON he. On the placard was written :
I'M A CHRISTIAN JOURNALIST
LET ME- REST AND MEDITATE.
I'M TRYING To BE GOOD.
NO FLOWERS WANTED.
NO USE FOR A CARRIAGE.
KEEP YOUR WATER Lilies Ar HOME.
SHUT Up!
IDCN'T WANT TO TALK HORSE, OR
DUNCAN & SHERMAN.
Ifell asleep while the great fashionable
hullaba loo wen, on around me. An hour
Afterward / awokc, only to find my watch
gone and MY diamond sleeve buttons sto-
len. A bootblack was rubbing violently
al my patent l-'ther boots, and waiter
was brushing ny coat. Ihcy we're bound
that should break the Sabbath. But I
would not do it. and rather than do it
rather than stay there and break the Sab.
bath, said, "lll get up and 60 down to
John Morrissey's and amuse myself till
twelve O'Clock at night by moving 'tuoncy
around innocently Oh white aud red cards.