The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1902-07-13
FICTIONS OF THE TOWN.

IL was past o. AS the men ana women
and boys and girls poured out of the Wash
ington-street stores each took a long
breath-glad TO partake freedoms air,
even of the Washington-street variety.
At the corner of Illinois street the crowd
of homeward bound humanity seemingly
massed for a moment and in little groups
OF twos and threes turned in various di-
rectiors. most Of them to the north. AS
they wendell their way boys scufled in an
effort TO throw each other into the gutter;
girls giggIed at everything in general and
nothing in particular; young women met
young men at conspicuous points-of
course by accident; men bought papers,
turned to the sporting page, commented
to their companions as they walked along.
Brawny young fellows, covered with foun-
dry CRIME, carrying little Katherine lunch
boxes, wearing blue and white muslin caps
advertising brands of chewing tobacco, and
hanging to their lower lips were cigarettes
of graduated tobacco twisted up in pa
pers. They walked and talked faster than
the rest of the crowd as they zigzagged
their way through, in anticipation. possibly,
of a mill they were going to pull off that
night in some pugilistic bower over a drug
store in their neighborhood.
A hackman or two drove up and took
their stand on the Levee. A lunch wagon
hove in sight and cast anchor for the night
over on the Kentucky-avenue point. and all
the dogs of the Levee simultaneously
emerged from their cool hooks around
street showcases and stairways, stretched
the afternoon sleep out of their bodies
by arching their backs, went over 10 the
Il -. ~
was nothing doing as yet, and as they
had a precedent for the belief that some
one would throw out the remaining con-
tents of a lunch box, they turned their at
tention to the surge of humanity and fol-
lowed along in the street with their tails
in the air, now and again casting side
chances over their backs as a precaution
against being moved down by an automo-
bile.
Suddenly a man came out from Irons
alley. He stood for a moment looking at
the crowd and bordering on which way to
go. He was very tired, he was very tired
indeed. His Panama was over his ears.
his crash coat looked like he had wadded
it UT to wash windows, he walked on the
bottom of his pants and his plated shirt
looked like a bar rag. He Joined the ma
jority and turned north; stepping high as
he wendell and threaded through the NOV
ing knots of people. Arriving at a saloon
in the middle of the block between Market
and Ohio street he stopped, for he was
very tired, very tired, indeed. He held
on by the awning rope and expectorated
several times with difficulty and apparent
pain. He made several oratorical efforts
for the passing multitude; he could not
articulate or gesticulate as he was very
~tired-very tired, indeed. The boys gathered
around him for a good view of the effects
of the rum Demon girls were seized with
a fresh fit of giggling; the young women
said what a shame;" the men remarked.
Il wouldn't want his jag this hot day."
and the brawny fellows with the muslin
caps paid no attention to him at all.
A young negro came along. He wore a
long black Prince Albert coat, a fancy
vest the texture of carpet, and little rivu-
let's of Precipitation from under his black
stiff hat marked all sides of his face and
closely shaven head. His celluloid collar
and cuffs shone like the glaze on a water
pitcher. His body moved faster than his
legs as he walked for his feet were as big
as fiddle cases. IS he caught sight of the
tired gentleman he chuckled in an
uncertain key and exposed a row of
white teeth set in blue gums. He
walked just inside the door of the
saloon, putting his black hand up to
his mouth, exposing a row of pink claws,
and called out. Fred. Fred: Oh. Fred!'