Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1890-08-17

| pavilion packed, like sardines in box, by
the police to give room for the endless double
line of promenaders up and down the Mall,
while host sprswls on the grassy slopes in
! coatless, somnolent abandon.
The ear hears the city street vernacular
| mingled with New England. Western and
Southern idiom, along with q tumble of
foreign accents. Then there Is every shade
of color that the human countenance can
assume. The dress of this motley assembly,
too, runs through the whole scale of costume,
often being fearful and wonderful as to
effect. You have the small lord of the
gutter in rags and raptures, whistling the
popular refrain and franticaily applauding
the piccolo soloist; the cash girl in wide sash,
flaming poppies and broken boots; the
Bowery dude in paste diamonds and big
headed walking stick; the rustic with his
shy sweetheart and now and then graceful
figure set off in the latest style of everything,
followed by devouring eyes and whisper Of
delight: "See! there goes an actressl'
A BIT OF PHILOSOPHY.
Occasionally you meet a well-dressed, re-
ined stay-at-home, who surveys the throng
with halfstudious, half-amused air, and
emphatically decides that everybody is out
of town." Stand at the head of the Mall at
the close of Sunday concert and watch the
crowd divide. Scores and scores of young
girls, all with an effort at adornment in
their dress, pass in painful array OF stoop-
ing shoulders, thin chests, awkward gait,
and faces that have only youth and gay
smiles to make them attractive. Scores of
young matrons, whose yisages the pride of
maternity, the assurance of having the cum
ningest baby on the grounds, cannot make
handsome. while the elderly women are
often positively repellant in their ugliness.
Where are all the pretty girls and beautl-
full women that will be seen later in the sea-
son? Gone to the beach, to the mountain,
to the farm, many, it may be, for the day
only. These are our working contingent,
who keep the innumerable wheels of indus
try in motion and have no time to cultivate
grsces. The men are as ugly as the women,
and the social philosopher sees long line
of hard toiling, poorly fed and housed an
cestry, which has brought these painful re-
suits. The reformers should see to it. Folks
are not born right, and lovers of the beauti-
full are defrauded and abused by such sights
in their Sunday rambles.
CUPID HOLDS HIS COURT.
II you want to see real, old-fashioned,
honest, shy, delicious love making don't 90
to the summer resorts. Stay in town, for it
is here in all its L-mean-business and will
you-marry- me downrightness. The August
moon looks down in mellow approval of lots
Of it in the smaller parks, and on Sundays
in the big Central Cupid holds his court
without any thought of a pun-and divides
the honors with the musicians. The pedes-
trian must tread the straight and narrow
path of concrete and keep his eyes to him
self. lest he intereepta tender glance, or see
clasped hands hastily Withdrawn, or STUN
BILE on couple In the midst of declara-
ton under the lee Of fint-hearted rock.
And one easily gets into sympathy with it,
albeit Phyllis has on q last years frock,
worn and faded, and Strephon is in his
shirt sleeves, with soil of last weeks toll
still darkening his finger nails. One touch
of nature makes the whole world kin, you
know, and the park is very attractive, in
its human aspects, even with everybody
out of town."
Whether q girl be rich or poor, bright or
dull, she knows the unwritten law forbid
ding her to say to her lover: "Will you
marry me?" She is technically no breaker
of that law, but very often she violates its |
spirit. She resorts to trick and device to
make man utter the question; and, on the |
other hand, if she be q considerate, good-nat-
ured creature, she will try to prevent it in a