The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1893-10-13
PARADISE OF FAKIRS
1t Is Just Outside the Worlds
Fair Grounds on Sunday.
Nothing Like 1t Since the Building Of
,rp Babel-Characteristic Scenes
in Motley ThrOng.

Seeher lnlnkS a Wnlle ABOUT Wnlte deS-
ert whose only blossom is placard reading,
CLOSED on Sunday" and then he gleefully
pushes one fifty-cent admission fee down
In his pocket and goes to the free show on
Stony Island avenue outside the gates.
For Sunday is the fakirs' paradise-the
day when, stimulated by the idea that they
are playing to full house, the fakirs soar
in eloquence or scintillate in wit and coin
money hand over fist. There is variety
there-variety of people and variety of
things. Inside Of six blocks on that street
you. can buy enough smoked glasses to
cloud the sun for every grown-up subject
in kingdom, with dozens of pairs for
the children to break besides. And every
man can have different style of specta-
cles, and every style will be the best.
AS for guide books and sets Of views and
ikenesses of Mrs. Palmer, you can find
them in every shape, size and color, offered
to you in every tongue and at every price
upon the globe; whole mountains of glass
paper weights, with pictures of worlds
fair buildings shining through, start up
before you at every step or so, like Ban
quos ghost. Brand new thoughts on the
subject of aluminium will come to you with
every trinket stand. Verify, the fakir show
without aluminium would be like unto a
lightweight box, tray, penholder or notion
of any sort on Stony Island avenue is alum
mum.
The other day bashful couple stopped
before table full of rings. The man be-
hind the table was student OF humanity,
and picked out wedding ring at once
heavy as flatiron and felt as light as
down. But ii was the color Of brass, and
sas IS fed m ao the aser that pons
the fakir said 1T was aluminium. The bar
gain was clinched; the ring was sold; alum
''Ice-cold lemonade, only fi-i-ve cents!'
screamed the boy at the corner stand just
then. Come on; come on! Right this way
your breath sweet-scours your teeth
-curls your hair-gives you an appetite
But the couple walked right past him. 1t
was a bright. cool autumn Sunday, and the
tuneful song of the 'r-r-red-hot sausage
boy bow 5ts dgr and Warm on was haa tns
the go can sound. There he sat- In his
white cap and coat behind the glowing
saeE and forth rG ap6a the the ro
nickel--fve cents-ha-a-a-af a dime! he
chanted as they drew near. and that time the
young man proposed TO pay for Dotn,
and they INDUCED.
g A VARIETY OF EDIBLES.
Right there the story ends in Stockton
style. Whether they lived or died is not
revealed, nor may we more than guess at
the sad fate of the thousands of people
who buy the thousands Of lunches for sale
along that avenue. "All you can eat for
10 cents!'' is a favorite refrain, but 1t is too
modest. They oubht TO tell us: More
than you can eat In lifetime: Enough to
keep you from bothering to eat again." or.
Souvenir lunches neatly packed; eat one
you'll never forget it,!
For there is no exaggeratIon In these 1.e
think the world contained so many differ
cnt sorts of ham sandwich the COM
nue. can show And people. too. Every
kind of man, woman or child is there. The
dude, with his carved .walking-stick and
from the pocket of his long overcoat; the
grimy little tambourine beggar, lodging
the big. blue-coated policeman; the ragged
believing nothing; the woman who means
TO buy great deal before she goes home,
but is just looking today the mother,
and telling him to Ssh and 'see the pref
tys:" the toddlng white child claspng the
she ought to be over in the park instead;
the briskly-walking Sunday people going
home from service; the sauntering swans
the groups Of idle, dont-care fellows, kill
ing time; and, last of ALL the deacon,hke
gentlemen, who keep one eye turned in
each direction, looking out for friends.
When they chance to see anyone they
know their words, tumbling over. each
felt it was duty to see for themselves
Just how. things were down there on the
Sabbath day.
"A pretty, modest girl strolled down there
with her five-year-old brother. She had
him to amuse, and in her guilelessness she
thought that would be an easy place to do
it. Her name was Mamie. Everybody knew
it because the boy was there. And he
cried because she couldn't buy him all he
saw, and he persisted in diving to the front
row of the crowd of men in front of every
shooting gallery and there calling out to
Mamie to eOme on All the men I,s and
Mamie standing helpless on the pavements
edge. 1t wasn't comfortable.
Are you good marksman?' asked
the gallery Perhaps the keen eyes glanc-
ing from beneath the sombrero she wore
and the way her short hair was brushed
back over the ears suggested the question.
''WeI," sic answered. II don't like to
boast; but Lifting a rifle she sent
bullet through the tiny target hole in mo.
cesson After that she shot the pasteboard
lion and made him roar" Everybody
cheered, while the small boy jumped up
and down With delight and squealed for
Mamie" until she had TO push in through
the crowd and take him out by force.
That was enough of Stony Island avenue
for her; she says it is "horrid place on
Sunday"
A COSMOPOLITAN COLLECTION.
1t isn't a frst-rate region, either, for
the absent-minded girl who is so numerous
at the fair on week days; the one who Is
just as likely to lay her umbrella down
and leave it during a rainstorm as on a
cloudless day. AS she sails down the ave-
nue. she scatters notebooks and souvenirs
and money purses in her wake, and. mys-
ferrous as it seems, when she comes back
to search for them they are not there.
Some woman with q voluminouS cape or
man with a deep pocket has been along
since then, and, as there isn't demand
enough to warrant the establishment of
lost and found counter down there
the probability is that the absent minded
girl Is minus her property.
Did i say the wit was there on Sunday?
He is telling the peanut and popcorn boys
that he don't buy none; amt got no teeth
to eat 'em with" and being otherwise in
tenseiy funny in his own familiar fashion.
How much for them floor mats?' he asks
of the red-capped Algerian, who sits on q
doorstep guarding his precious art tapes
try and he laughs inordinately at the AL
gerian'S rage.
BY the way, speaking of that tapestry. do
you suppose Millets flesh would crawl If
he were here at the gorgeous way his
"Angelus' is woven into those squares. or
wouldn't he so much as recognize the sub
ject?
in good repair before you venture down
that way. If you don't you'll be confused
by the biggest glass of beer on earth" and
won't know where to get your paroles
checked. AS for the ever-present SOU
venir' IL you can mention a single way it
of the class at once
However. few of the passers notice these.
there is SO much else to see. For instance
take that man on the wagon shouting to
the crowd that swarms about him. He is
selling the knife of the world twelve
han rd q n errio