Martinsburg independent. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1875-1900, 1876-09-02
RecolIecfians 0fthe Centen.
NAL.
BY GALE P~ARTrNGToN.

unaDle 10 nnu a Wrltlng penn
Well, i have then.
= was in that predicament just
five minutes ago.
j just now had a thousand and
one things to tell you of the CEN
tenial-things of interest too,
mind, but could not find my pen.
Three weeks ago, when I packed
up my picadillo for a trip north,
/ put my pen carefully away, as /
thought, but find it / couldn't, for
two long hours.
That drawer of mine, who could
have found anything in it any
how? Rusty horse shoe nails,
used to pick kernels out of walnuts
in winter time; stumps of cigars
that were lent me when / had
friends; letters from my mother
there, / was going to write girl
that would have been a mistake
certainly, for / never have had
such an article; rows of pins; in
fact. everything a steady bachelor
needs in spring, summer, autumn
and winter.
But I'm keeping you too long.
Let me see if / can't recollect
something of the centennial; for
who's interested about what /
have in my drawer?
Pm not interested myself. A:e
you?
Having purchased twenty-five
cents worth Of five cent cigars, a
second hand sandwich and a pint
bottle of perfumery for my hand
kerchief, / entered the smoking
a at Jersey City and calmly
watched a young mans mustache
who sat beside me.
tried one of the Jersey cigars.
1t wouldn't draw any more than
a prayer meeting when a circus is
In town. l kept calm, recolIect. /
tried another cigar. Not a draw.
Still calm. / lighted another. 1t
grew red, then white with heat,
but no smoke. Not quite so calm
as before. Each cigar had q smal
wrapper Oh it which read, "centen-
Hial cigars"
That satisfied me. Everything
to eat drink or smoke, at the CEN
tennial. is a fraud Why, l almost
became a fraud myself during
three weeks.
But I'm glad / didn't.
Nothing transpired during my
trip to Philadelphia. Its true, /
might say there did, but in this re-
spect I'm like Beecher, tell the
truth C?) and be willing to swear
to it.
At Philadelphia! ali, at Phila-
delphia! When quite near the city.
four or five BOstonians who had
never seen the city of brotherly
love, took a carpet factory for the
main building of the centennial.
One who seemed to know more
than the rest-those yankees know
every thing-called a waste lot
where some women were sitting
ashes, Fair Mount Park. l was
afraid to speak, they look Hayes
and Wheeler all over
Private-u'm writing this at
night. What sign is it to hear a
dog cry. One opposite is crying
most m%ournfully. Perhaps for the
coming defeat of III & W.
Of course / was hungry.
/ entered a saloon and called for
clam soup.
o, but / like clans and bread
and butter.
A tall man that pronounced yes,
"yis," came up, stood picking the
mourning from his finger nails
and asked what I'd have. / told
him the second time. Then going
behind a bar he told a man, that
told a woman, that told a negro,
that told the cook, that a fellow
out there wanted clam soup.
After the expiration of a half
hour, a blushing maiden OF seven
teen summers and as many win
tiers, entered with a dirty tray.
While she was hunting among
the hungry guests for the fellow
that wanted the clam soup / took
a good look at this centennial
cook. She hadn't dressed herself
to make an impression, that's sure.
A least she didn't make any on
me. I'm easily impressed too.
She wore an apron-I believe
that's what they call it, isn't it ?
which l am sure had not been
washed since the day Grant and
Dom Pedro started the machinery
agoing at the Centennial. Her
sleeves were greasy and so was
her face. Enough of the girl, now
for the meals.
The clam soup had been made
the st. Louis Convention,
consequently it was as strong as
the Democratic ticket. The bread
bore nnmistak able marks of hav-
play d it's part in satisfying
Tho hnnnar f.f snmn mn1oo-nJla Low