It was at a time when the
moral sentiment of the metropolis, expressed through ordinance and
special legislation, had declared itself against a certain form of
"variety" entertainment, and had, as usual, proceeded against the
performers, and not the people who encouraged them. I remember,
one frosty morning, to have encountered in Washington Park my
honest friend Sergeant X. and Roundsman 9999 conveying a party of
these derelicts to the station. One of the women, evidently, had
not had time to change her apparel, and had thinly disguised the
flowing robe and loose cestus of Venus under a ragged "waterproof";
while the other, who had doubtless posed for Mercury, hid her
shapely tights in a plaid shawl, and changed her winged sandals for
a pair of "arctics." Their rouged faces were streaked and stained
with tears. The man who was with them, the male of their species,
had but hastily washed himself of his Ethiopian presentment, and
was still black behind the ears; while an exaggerated shirt collar
and frilled shirt made his occasional indignant profanity
irresistibly ludicrous.
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