Morning journal and courier., 1880-02-11
Price Four Cents.

! girl, very big basket; full of washing; calico | frock; long legs, emaciated ostrich feathers
 Tn seedy hat. Mother possibly washed and
 ironed that linen to-day. Father possibly at
 a corner groggery Con business"
 Swing. creak Next. Stout, rotund man, red-faced, sandy moustache, smoothly shayen genuine New Yorker about town horse racer cock-fghter, rat-pit, billiards. F. R. Go-as you-please, frst-nighter turtle. souper. club l man, generous liver, we'll satisfied with this world-and the next if it's only similar. Married and goes out regularly O nights Con business.
 Convenient place, the Fifth Avenue. to grapple with existence, isn't it Southern climate inside. For mid-winter-any tenn perature you desire-as much or as little pri-
 vaey as you wish. Telegraph at your elbow
 to call your aunt in New Orleans or London
 stock ticker at the other for indicating vour financial rule or ruin-railway ticket office at the right for rushing you anywhere over the the republics S3, 600 miles of railroad-all the news Of the day at this counter-cab or car riage office at that--gloves, hats, neckties,
 parasols and umbrellas through this door
 barber shop through that-tailor next-biI- lizards down stairs-palatial parlors up-free papers from all over the land this way-bar and inspiration close by for married men Con business" Money does it all money smooths out every wrinkle. Money oils every joint. Money here leads you through marble halls. green pastures and beside quiet waters Mon ey makes the mare go, the horse go, the colt go, the COW go, the car go, the carriage %. Is not the love of money then the love of life. say at the Fifth Avenue? Is it not the love of ease, comfort, luxury amusement, variety, warmth, and all the good things pluekable at this caravansary9 And why, then, is the love of money the root of so much evil?
 Bang, bang, swing, squeak go the storm doors Enter one man, depart two-enter three men, depart one-enter two men, depart I,o1f Inz .II<. he comes. Glass of fashion, mould of etc. Latest thing out-kids, scarf pint is his sisters ulster? Young man in the dandified heyday and youthful era of existence-a bank clerk, clothing house cashier, an active sales- man-scion of New York's upper-middIe class any of these-all-or none at all But he approves of life on general prinoiples-it's about the correct thing-it's all before him newly gilt-can explain it far better now than twenty years hence-his contemporaries. male and female, all in youths richest f1ush-aIl in purple, fine linen, silk satin, $1O stockinps fur lined silk cloaks, rings bangles, chatelaines blanketed poodles-all in the every night ball, opera, reception, or theatre going stage of existence, and he never eats 8 dinner at less cost than $1, and why should these things ever fade? N. B.-He told his mother an hour ago that he must go out Con business"
 Bang. squeak, bang. Enter next-an older mana man who knows more, but not wiser
 
 hair, bowed shoulders, cane, nose subdued rublcund, eyes somewhat aqueous, manner uncertain and devoid of purpose, glancing in many directions-does he seek long lost son, or daughter, or friend of his youth2 He threads his way through the crowd to the heart of this house, it's pulsating point, its centre of motive and executive power-the hotel clerks counter-the nerve centre of the hostelrie-the combination of bells, gongs, orders, keys, servants, cash, bills, questions and answers at the rate of thirty to the min ute. He adjusts the glasses, inspects the hotel register, ponders long over it regardless of four men waiting to do likewise behind him, turns away, shuff1es through crowded corridor, into reading room, down stairs into billiard room, peers into every corner, brings up in palatial barroom waits-why waits he? He waits for some one to ask him to drink his nights work-old New Yorker-has in like manner sifted already score of hotels and saloons, will so sift more-dread- ful bore-knows everybody-long, purpose less stories-more drinks, longer the stories- he bores with an alma method in his mad ness-he bores for drink. Yet he once dap pered in and out of fashionable hotels. Kid gloved, scarfed, tight-booted. He changed rigidly with every change of fashion and lived on the gilded side of life, and thought it all as it should be, and asked ditto stylish girl to marry him, and she did, and they be- gan their double life on the ground floor, and o~SAAJ the second third, fourth, fifth story, and ever going east, east, east--o1, the least side,' and to night she is worn old woman, hopeless, aim1ess, all the old brightness of life snutfed out, the wick cumbered with soot and ashes, and she waits not for his shufling, uncertain step on the dark, dingy stairway and hall, not for his connubial nightly growl and grumble, not for his alcoholic laden breath-but for the end. Yet he condescends to tell her. too, that he has been out Con business" And what am I doing here in this democratic pal ace, this abode for the prosperous republican, more luxurious, more costly, 8 home better adapted to every human want, need, desire or whim, than medieval emperor, king or duke ever dreamed of in their cold, damp, incon- venient, waterless, gasless, elevatorless, tele- graphless telephoneless, stock-tickerless, brandy smash and cherry cobblerless palaces? Why tarry I here, when the being whom promised to love, honor and obey, labors and waits in her lonely home? Why? Because am exercising my masculine privilege and I am seeing men lon business"