Tuesday, December 31, 2019
Monday, December 30, 2019
Balloon Ascent from Smith's Island June 20, 1874 by Signor Pedanto - Inquirer 22 June 1874
About two weeks ago Signor Pedanto. the Italian acrobat, finished a silk balloon capable of holding 4000 feet of gas, and soon afterward got it in readiness for inflation. It was his first attempt at ballooning, and after several unsuccessful trials he made another attempt from Smith's Island, on Saturday afternoon, which was attended with success. The balloon took a southwesterly course, and hung over the southern portion of the city about three-quarters of an hour. It gradually became smaller and smaller, and was finally lost to sight while in the air Pedanto executed a number of feats on the trapeze. About six o'clock the aeronaut descended at League Island, much pleased with his success.
(Public Ledger Almanac - 1875 - recount of 1874 events)
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Row at Ridgway Park (Smith's Island) - Inquirer 18 July 1882
ROW AT RIDGWAY.
A Fight on the Island Renewed on the Boat
—Blackjacks Used.
Chief among the attractions of Ridgway Park this week is the bicycling of Miss Louise Amainda and Miss Elsa Bluman. In the afternoons they are matched against each other, in five races of two miles each. At night the exhibition is a very singular one. Both girls drive the tameless bicycle, one succeeding the other, against a trotting horse ridden by H. F. RusselL These attractions drew to the Island yesterday a large number of people. Order was well maintained up to about ten o'clock, when the special police of the place caused the arrest of Frank Crawford living at No. 505 North Front street: Edward Conway, of No. 1030 South Tenth street; William Whitman, of No. 2012 North Twelfth street; Alfred Crawford, of No. 137 Noble street, and Michael Nill, of No . 505 Diamond street. These men and several others went over to Ridgway Park early in the evening, and, it is said partook rather freely of beer, and became rather lively from its effects. One of the party in a jovial manner threw a chair, which struck Crawford. This made the latter angry, and he remonstrated with the man in rather sharp terms.
An officer, hearing the angry words, rushed upon the men and grasped Crawford by the coat. The latter declined to go with the officer, when he drew a blackjack and began pounding Crawford over the head with it. His friends interfered and tried to rescue him from the officer, who called for assistance. Several officers responding a general row ensued, and blackjacks were freely used All of Crawford's friends were severely handled
Crawford was badly cut about the face and received several ugly scalp wounds. The five men were taken to the Central Station, where, at eleven o'clock last night, they were given a hearing before Magistrate Ladner, who held them for another hearing. Bail being furnished they were released about midnight. The affair caused considerable excitement.
( Inquirer 18 July 1949 )
RIDGWAY PARK
Where tn the Delaware River was Ridgway Park situated? When was it removed?
T. C.
Park was located on originally part of Windmill Island, on the Pennsylvania side of the Delaware River opposite the area of Spruce and Pine st., this city. John Smith acquired the island In 1817 and when, in 1838, a canal was cut through the Island to permit passage of ferryboats, the lower half retained the name Windmill Island and the upper half was named Smith's Island. The Smith family sold Smith's Island to Jacob E. Ridgway and it became known as Ridgway Park. Transferred to the U. S. Government May 29, 1890, the islands were removed between 1891 and 1897 to improve navigation in the Delaware River.
( Inquirer 27 Inquirer 1945 )
RIDGWAY PARK
Please print a brief history of Ridgway Park, one-time resort on an island in the Delaware River.
G. H. K.
Ridgway Park was located on Smith's Island, formerly Windmill Island, on the Pennsylvania side of the Delaware River opposite Philadelphia's business section. John Harding, a miller, built a wharf and windmill on the island in 1746; in 1817 John Smith purchased part of it and the property remained in the Smith family until 1879 when purchased by Jacob E. Ridgway, thus the origin of the three names attached to the place. In 1826 a bathing resort was established on the northern end of the island and from then until about 1890 the island remained a summer resort. During its heyday the place was known as Smith's Island but with Ridgway's acquisition of the property, it became Ridgway Park. In addition to bathing the resort also boasted a restaurant, beer garden, musical entertainment and occasionally even a balloon ascension or a tightrope performance was offered. The island's willow trees, planted in 1840, were among its well known features. Between the years 1891 and 1897 the island was removed to improve the navigation of the Delaware River.
( Inquirer 3 June 1879 )
Deed Recorded.—The deed by which Mr. Thomas G. Smith transfers to Mr. Jacob E. Ridgway the property known as Smith's Island has been recorded in the office of the Recorder of Deeds in this city. As described, the property transferred consists of what is known as Smith's Island wharf at Delaware avenue, between Chestnut and Walnut streets; also, part of Smith's Island running south of a line running east and west across the island, which would be parallel and of the same coarse as the south line of Chestnut street. Also, part of Windmill Island, bound on the south by a lot which is situated partly in the range of Walnut street, containing two and a-half acres. $55,000 was the consideration.
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Sunday, December 22, 2019
Christmas in Staten Island - Chili Pepper Lights on the Tree - Angel on the Side
Son and daughter in law put up the tree this year. I love the Chili Pepper lights on the tree. Been using them since we lived in Arizona.
Territorial era New Mexican herb/medicine (//shrine) cabinet to the left. Bought it on side of road in Tucson from an itinerant carpenter who said he salvaged it from a house he helped tear down there. (He needed gas and or beer money.)
Angel on the side. Bought for a larger tree in Arizona.
Happy Holidays to All.
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Friday, December 20, 2019
A Chicago Santa Claus in Philly - Inquirer 27 Dec 1892
Colonnade Hotel SW Corner 15th and Chestnut Streets Free Library of Phila. (1896) |
A CHICAGO SANTA CLAUS,
M. H. CHARLES MAKES HAPPY
ALL THE PEOPLE AT THE
COLONNADE.
Presents for Everybody That Will
Long; Keep the Donor's Name In
Pleasant Remembrance.
Santa Claus, Mr. Pickwick and Croesus, all combined in one, apparently registered at the Colonnade on Saturday morning, when a gentleman from Chicago, M. H. Charles, appended his name to the list of guests. Mr. Charles is a member of a great produce firm in Chicago, and was drawn to this city with the expectation of passing Christmas with an old friend.
Circumstances prevented this, and after the first moment of disappointment he proceeded to make himself happy by contributing to the happiness of those around him.
At the hotel, it is said, he was the most lavish and generous guest the house has over sheltered. After ascertaining the names of the few children in the house he purchased elaborate playthings, which were sent to their rooms on Christmas morning; every employe of the house with whom he came in contact has reason to remember his generosity; every waiter in the dining room received a present; each hell boy, each porter and such of the maids as were fortunate enough to come within his range of vision were remembered.
Although a total abstainer, he insisted upon paying for wine for all who would partake of his generosity. There are few in the place now who will not concede to the city of wind and beef the proud position of the colossal city of the age, and the visit of Mr. Charles has secured a curious revulsion of sentiment in regard to Now York's defeated claim to the World's Fair.
The gratuities dispensed by the generous guest amounted to more than $200, and caused many of the permanent guests to feel rather shamefaced. Mr. Charles left last night on the Southern express for Memphis, where he will attend a New Year's family reunion. During the sixty hours of his visit to the city he continued to build a monument which will endure as long as the present employes remain at tho Colonnade.
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Christmas on the Pullman Car - Inquirer 27 December 1892
Photo: no date, Museum of the American Railroad, Frisco, TX |
CHRISTMAS ON
THE PULLMAN CAR
The Time of Year When The Porter
Reaps His Harvest
All Pocket-Books Dwindle Before
the Blue-Capped Man.
He Makes Enough In Fees During
the Holiday Season to Maintain
His Reputation for Opulence.
Even the Millionaire and the Free
Rider Come Down.
A well dressed colored man who was known to be neither a Gloucester sport nor a politician created a little ripple of excitement in a Chestnut street saloon, late yesterday afternoon by flashing a big wad of bills when it came his turn to pay for the drinks. He was flush, and proud of it, and was ordering the best in the house with that distinctive liberality which is the invariable outcome of easily-gotten wealth. The proprietor of the saloon tipped a few confidential words to an inquisitive reporter and the mystery was solved. The flush man was a Pullman car porter.
Now, inasmuch as the general public has long since recognized the fallacy of the newspaper humorist's gag relative to the Pullman car porter rolling in opulence, and has discovered that those industrious knights of the whisk-brush are in reality among the hardest-worked and poorest-paid men in railroad circles, it became a matter of interest to the inquisitive reporter to find out just why one of that fraternity should be displaying wads of "long green" in high-priced saloons at this season. The facts as unearthed wore these:
THE PORTER'S HARVEST TIME
Christmas is the Pullman porter's harvest time. It is his millennium, which, unlike the millennium of ordinary people, comes once a year, and is of a more satisfactory nature than the ordinary run of millenniums on that account. It is the time of year when not only are people's hearts more open and more ready to pay a financial consideration for the little attentions of those about them, but when, also, the railroads are thronged by home-returning people whose minds and purposes are full of the great festival and its good cheer. The porter reaps the benefit of this universal feeling.
"Why, I expect to make my monthly salary thrice over within the next twenty-four hours," said one of them at Broad Street Station last night just before starting out upon a night run to Chicago, "although the bulk of my receipts are over, and during the past week I have salted away in the bank a roll big enough to keep want from my family when the slack season sets in.
THE MILLIONAIRE COMES DOWN
"Why, bless me, what would we porters do on our salaries of $16 per month if it were not for Christmas and the few occasions throughout the year when we happen to strike generous parties? Christmas is really the only time in the year when we make any money. Everybody gives to us then. There are plenty of regular riders, like drummers and theatrical people, who never think of giving me more than a quarter all tho rest of the year, who will out with a five dollar bill or even more at Christmas.
"But the best of all is to see the way the big business men and millionaires come down. I could give you the name of a big New York banker who goes to Chicago an average of twice a month, and who always religiously gives the porter a ten cent piece when he gets to his journey's end. I have him with me on my last trip East a couple of days ago, and he came down with a tenner as good as gold. Even the people who ride on passes go down into their pockets for us during this time of the year, something which they will never do at any other season. And the women give us a dime or a quarter when we brush off their coats without asking us how much it is."
All of which goes to verify the old legend that Christmas mellows human nature, and taketh away all restraint from men's pooketbooks.
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Thursday, December 19, 2019
Monday, December 16, 2019
Friday, December 13, 2019
John H Clark - Olympic Saloon / Theatre / Ring / "Academy of Art" - Liquor License Revoked - Inquirer 16 June 1883
Lippincott's Monthly Magaizine - January 1892 |
CLARK'S LICENSE REVOKED
The Proprietor of the Olympic Concert Saloon Beaten in Court.
The case of John H. Clark, proprietor of the Olympic Concert Saloon, at Eighth and Vine streets, against whom a rule had been taken to show cause why his license to sell liquor should not be revoked, was heard in the Quarter Sessions yesterday. In support of the rule it was argued that the saloon was advertised as a place of amusement, and that theatrical exhibitions were given there, a violation of the act of July 9, 1881. On the other hand, it was contended that the place was not kept as a place of amusement, as contemplated by the act of Assembly, inasmuch as Mr. Clark simply gave exhibitions of boxing and dancing, of which he was a professor. The judge decided that the respondent's place came within the meaning of the act, and he accordingly revoked the license.
The plaintiff in this case is Mr. George K. Snyder, Sr., chief of the Good Ternp'ars' League. He was represented by Moses Veale, Esq, while A S. L. Shields. Esq, appeared for the defendant. In the latter's answer it was admitted that liquor was sold on the premises, but it was not a piece of amusement in the meaning of the act of Assembly; it was an academy of art. To this counsel for the plaintiff presented one of the bill posters, calling attention to an event to come off at the saloon. This was a settler, and the judge at once revoked the license. In the case of Ward & Hastings there was simply a revocation of the license, and nothing farther was done. But in the Clark case further proceedings are to be taken. It was suggested to the judge that a penalty should be imposed for a violation of the act of Assembly, and the answer to that was that the usual course should be taken in the nature of a complaint before a magistrate. This Mr. Snyder intends to do. The second section of the act referred to makes a violation of the provisions a misdemeanor, punishable by fine or imprisonment.
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Thursday, December 12, 2019
Kilrain vs. Sullivan - July 8, 1889 Outside New Orleans - The Sun - 9 March 1909 - Remembrance of Twenty Years Past
The Sun - 9 March 1909 - Remembrance of Twenty Years Past
"It was a twenty-foot ring with the finest inch and an eighth Manila rope strung around the enclosure. There were eight heavy post driven many feet into firm soil. Whew! It was hot that morning when the sun burst forth with all its fury. Every man was hatless and coatless, and those with umbrellas were lucky indeed. It was just 120 degrees before the fight began, and the New York delegation suffered the tortures of Hades as the wine and the juleps oozed out of their skins. We didn't have to wait long, however, for the fighters soon made their appearance within the roped square. Kilrain came first, followed by Charley Mitchell and Mike Donovan, who were his principal seconds. Bat Masterson was his timekeeper and Denny Butler his umpire.
(The National Police Gazette 27 July 1889)
Sullivan had a whole pack behind him - Billy Muldoon, Mike Cleary, Joe Coburn, Jack Barnett, Major Hughes, Liney Tracey and Dan Murphy. Tom Costello was the big fellow's umpire. John Fitzpatrick, who was afterward elected Mayor of New Orleans, was the referee. Sullivan and Kilrain each put up $1,000 with Fitzpatrick on the result.
(The National Police Gazette 27 July 1889)
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Wednesday, December 11, 2019
Third District Police Jurisdiction - (Fifth Ward) - Chestnut to South / Seventh St to Delaware River - 1887
Noll's Map of Philadelphia - 1890 |
The Third District Station-House is on Union (Delancey) Street below Fourth. It was built in 1880, and cost $18,000. The boundaries of the district are from Chestnut to South streets, and from Seventh Street to the Delaware River, and within its limits are several banks, trust and deposit companies, the general offices of the Pennsylvania and the Philadelphia and Reading railroads, the Custom House, Independence Hall, Carpenter's Hall, the Corn Exchange, Commercial Exchange, the courts of the city and county, Dock Street Market and the Fish Market, Fitzpatrick's Bonded Warehouses, St. Peter's Protestant Episcopal, St. Mary's and St. Joseph's Roman Catholic churches, many wholesale stores, and on Dock Street below Walnut the " Blue Anchor Tavern," which is one of the oldest buildings now standing in Philadelphia, having been built of bricks imported from Holland in 1719.
Sunday, December 8, 2019
The (German) Maennerchor Ball (Mardi Gras), Academy of Music, Tuesday February 27 - Inquirer 1 March 1900
The Maennerchor Ball never begins until after midnight. No man who ever attended one ever maintained the contrary. Paradoxical as it may appear, the average patron of those balls does not go there to dance, nor even to look upon the dance floor, however brilliant the spectacle which may there be set before his eyes. Save to a few people the ball is misnamed. It is a ball, of course; but not primarily. Gently speaking, it is a rout. The police are there, but they are not offensively in evidence. They have their orders, and would loyally execute them: but as things happen they are not often called upon to exercise their authority, and in the morning, when heads are clear and the liver begins to assert its right to work, if it can, even the antagonists of the night before are glad that they talked and did not fight.
But this year the supper room, the scene of the highest revelry always, was also the scene of a fight a few moments after the doors were thrown open. There had been too much wine, of course - not all bought in the form of supper tickets, but gathered in that wild quest for reasons why a man who wanted to be good should not go home on Maennerchor Ball night. A married man, of course, is meant. The scenes on the stage shift rapidly, but not quite as rapidly as at the Maennerchor Ball. There are not so many shifters. But they tell me that one blow was struck - what a fool a man is to imagine that he can make his, way in this world on his muscle, prizefighters barred—and the other man was willing to strike, too. But.the management would not have it. Not the management of the Young Maennerchor. They don't happen to be that kind of people. 0nce a year they give their ball. They are always glad to have their friends attend that function, but would infinitely prefer to have them stay at home to coming there and making trouble. Therefore no fights. In two minutes the combatants in Tuesday night's fracas were hustled out, and the incident was closed. It never should have started.
She was a blonde, and her rivals affirmed that she bleached her hair. Maybe she did. It looked like straw to me. But perhaps I don't know. At any rate he was drinking, and, if surface indications count for anything, he belonged to her. A case of joint ownership, no doubt. At the table at which they sat was a friend of both who had once alluded to the "bleached blonde." No reference to this allusion was made in the conversation, which led up to the incident, but "all of a sudden" as they say on the stage, he walked up to the lady; with the conscious air of proprietorship and began to take the hairpins out of her hair. There was no noise or disturbance of any kind. The people at the next table hadn't the faintest notion of what was going on. Then, when her golden hair fell, in shining ringlets down her back, he turned savagely, to the man who once had made.an allusion to the "bleached blonde" and said: "There, confound you, say it now." The other man had been drinking himself - what's the trouble with the Prohibitionists, anyhow? —and for an.instant did not know exactly what the other meant. Then, recollecting himself, he said: "Why, if you want me to say whether or not I think that the lady bleaches her hair, I will frankly say that I think she does.'' The argument ended there with a word which cannot be embodied in this report.
It was down in the basement where Gambrinus is king and hurrah for the next that dies! When they don't drink their beer there they have a trick of emptying their glasses on the floor, which enables them to go home as sober as if they had said they would not take another, but in the meantime staid old fellows like myself are apt to get wet feet. And there are others, all the time. One of the others this time was a girl in red tights. It dawned on her in a minute. With a scream she exclaimed: "Oh, my feet are getting wet," and deliberately took off her red slippers and sat with her feet dangling in the beer plant on the floor. That was to dry her feet.
They said—did you ever notice how many things they said?-—that he was old enough to know better, and he looked the part. But he was twenty-one exactly twenty-two years ago, and has a clear right to think for himself. If he can, of course. That's different. And still, in that gown, what could the poor man do? It was a candid sort of gown itself. Not for an instant did it make the slightest pretense of revealing or concealing its wearer's charms. And she had charms, too. About three inches below her shoulder there was something like a band about her arm which may have been meant to hold up the waist, but if that was the purpose, it signally failed in its accomplishment. She said herself that she had invested the savings of six months in the gown, and there was no reason to question her word. And it wasn't a case of "what fools these mortals be," either! She has already covered the cost of the gown twenty times over in the form of diamonds from the man who was old enough to know.
He thought she could not kick, and when the lights were low he held up his shining silk hat and gave her a chance. There was no waste of time on her part. She had been trained in that business. In a second there was the rustle of some lingerie, the gleam of dark hose, a report which might have been mistaken for the explosion of a cannon, and the silk hat sailed gracefully but none the less swiftly to the ceiling and then landed in the mingled beer and water on the floor. Down stairs again, There's fun there, unless you have a bad disposition. Then it's better to go home. A dress suit doesn't look well in a police court at 7 A.M.
Within less than an hour something like twenty-six empty champagne battles stood on their table. There was nothing cheap, about that crowd. The women were quietly clad, but the men had diamonds. to pawn or burn. For more than two hours the fairest of the fair had been stopping at their table—why shouldn't they, as long as the wine went round?—dropping a kiss here, and an invitation to the next pink tea there, until, for the truth must sometimes be told, everybody at the table, from the millionaire broker to the poorest fed man at the board, manfully owned up to having as much as he really cared to handle. Then a momentary hush fell upon the assemblage. Perhaps some of them were thinking of the homes to which they should have gone, and others of the homes they had lost. Anyhow, there was a pause. Then a beautiful- girl, she could not have been more than eighteen, shot up, and, grabbing a bottle of wine that had just been opened, gave this toast: "Boys, I'm drunk and I'm glad of it. Have a drink with me." She went out before the lights did, but that's none of our business.
It was only an orange and a lady, with a very low cut gown, and a bad man with too much wine. Bad men get that way sometimes, they say, but his aim was good, and, for a moment or two after the orange struck the dividing line between the corsage and, you know the rest, it looked as if the other fellow was very tired and did not realize what had happened, and the managers again were on the lookout to prevent trouble. there would be something better than anything that Sharkey and Fitzsimmons could do. Two causes conspired to avert that calamity. The other fellow was very tired and did not realize what had happened, and the managers again were on the lookout to prevent trouble.
They looked like Romeo and Juliet, but, for some cause or another, had not brought their balcony with them. It was a pity. The moonlight shone from their very eyes. There was the glimmer of the star's soft rays in their champagne-colored cheeks. She had just kissed him in full view of the audience, and then her glance fell upon somebody else. "Excuse me a moment," she exclaimed, calmly, and just as calmly walked over to the party of the third part. At 1 o'clock she was eating supper at the Walton with number three, and the other fellow was still holding her cloak. He hasn't got even that - now.
A house is not necessarily empty because you think it is. For particulars consult the stars. Ten minutes after the lights on the dancing floor had been turned out two mites of humanity - not any of them count for much in the sum total of human existence, were snugly ensconced behind the palms that stood on the rear of the stage. Her notes we're as cooing as those of the dove and her request was just as modest. "This is Shrove Tuesday," she said, with a half smile. "Let's go around to Dennett's for ham and eggs."
It was very wet down in the basement, where the foaming malt was dispensed free of charge. Groups of Indians, Filipino girls, Hungarian peasants, et cetera, and scores of the jeunesse dore, with their sweethearts, imparted a decidedly risque effect. It really didn't matter whether your name was Jones or Brown. Identities were lost in the scene of revelry, and the engraved cards were as much out of place as a blizzard in the tropics. Sometimes tho girls were being Hobsonized by some other fellows. But that didn't appear to create a sensation. It was a case of living in glass houses for most of the crowd. Off from the basement were a half-dozen recesses. They were exceedingly well patronized. With a table in the centre for the foaming glasses and a marked absence of light, the revelers made merry. Frequently from the recesses came a shower of garters, some silver-buckled, for which there would be a scramble. Then it was a drink for the fair owner of the stolen article, with the song:
"Fairest maiden, thou hast a slender, waist.
"A slender waist is thine love, and the arm that clasps is mine, love."
Back of the scenery was a favorite place for the thirsty dancers. Leading a small party, on one occasion, was an out-of-town clergyman whose vocation, with a single exception, was unknown to the merry crowd. He had the flask, and it was soon emptied to the time of
"Come, every jolly good fellow And fill up your glass,"
with the parson leading in a rich basso voice. But that was not the only trip. There were many of them. Each occasion the dominie was popular enough to flirt with a different girl. It was long after 3 o'clock when the last carriage rolled away from the frowning fortress on Broad street. It is curious how long it takes these drivers to get back from the other place when they solemnly waver that have not been anywhere except "waiting around the corner."
By the end of all things comes some day. She was in decollete costume too. Eyes as black as midnight and hair.of the color of the ravens wings. Slightly unsteady in her gait, but who cares for that after a night like this? In entering the carriage she got on familiar terms with her silken gown, and, well, it was a mercy that she did not break her neck in the fall. As she gathered herself together for the final plunge there was a smile upon her face and a dreamy look in her eye. "Not quite as lively as some Maennerchor balls," she murmured, "but I had a good time, and the others can take care of themselves." In another year, but that's twelve months hence; what's the use of worrying about that now?
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Saturday, December 7, 2019
The Balls Before Lent - Inquirer 5 February 1885
The balls that take place before Lent are:
Monday, 9th, Germantown German.
Tuesday, 10th, Mamnercbor Ball Masque.
Wednesday, 11th, Third Rose Ball.
Friday, 13th, Second Assembly.
Monday, 16th, Last Fortnightly Dancing Class.
Monday, 16th, Catholic Charity Ball.
Tuesday, 17th, Germantown German.
Tuesday, 17th, Young Maennerchor Ball.
— Rules for Maennerchor Ball, February 10:
No admission to the parquet circle or dancing floor without masks or in costume before twelve o'clock P. M.
The doors open at seven o'clock; the grand march will commence at nine o'clock: the ball will close at three o'clock A. M.
Carriages will set down heads south and take up heads north.
Masks must be removed at twelve o'clock.
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Thursday, December 5, 2019
Wednesday, December 4, 2019
Tuesday, December 3, 2019
Monday, December 2, 2019
Palatial Bathing Pavilion - Atlantic City - Oswego Daily Times - 18 July 1898
Oswego Daily Times - 18 July 1898
PALATIAL BATHING PAVILION.
The large and elegantly-appointed bathing pavilion on the Boardwalk near Ocean avenue, which was formerly conducted by Kipple & McCann, has this season been purchased by I. Whilden Moore. The pavilion is adjacent to the new art store, in conjunction with which Mr. Moore will look alter his new enterprise. The pavilion contains one thousand bath-houses for surf bathers, and eighty additional ones for those who desire to take the hot water surf baths. They are all sumptuously appointed with every comfort, and are larger and better ventilated than any others on the beach; in fact, it is safe to say they excel any on the Atlantic coast from Florida to Maine. The prices are moderate, being 25 cents for the ordinary surf bath, and fifty cents with the extra fine new bathing suits. The rates for the hot water surf baths are forty cents each, or three for one dollar. Mr. Moore, who is proprietor of the building in which the pavilion is situated, as well as the one next door, will at the beginning of next season build three extra stories directly. above the present building, which is to be utilized as a first-class hotel, and which will be the only one of its kind on the Boardwalk. Men with such enterprising spirits as Mr. I. Whilden Moore are sure to succeed, and Atlantic City has in him a citizen who will not alone do much to build up the prosperity of this popular resort, but whose name will in time be synonymous with "Atlantic City's prosperity."
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The World 13 Sept 1892 - Denny Butler Mistaken For James J.Corbett on Streets of New York
King's Handbook to New York City 1893
(The World - 13 Sept 1892)
CHEERED DENNY BUTLER
A Crowd in Cortlandt Street Mistook Him for the Champion.
There is no very striking similarity in the personal appearance of Denny Butler, the assistant boxing instructor of the New York Athletic Club, and James J. Corbett, champion pugilist of the world. Each has a smooth face and a dark complexion, but there the resemblance ends.
Yet yesterday three or four hundred persons went nearly wild when they saw Denny Butler in Cortlandt street, and sent up cheer after cheer for him, believing him to be the conqueror of John L. Sullivan. It happened in this way:
Denny and Mike Donovan were delayed in Jersey City for some time after the "Corbett Special" arrived, and did not come to this city with the rest of the party. After they had seen that their baggage was all right, they came over on the Cortlandt street ferry. For several hours a crowd had been waiting in West street opposite the ferry-house for Corbett to appear, and the passengers of each boat were eagerly scanned. So when Prof. Donovan, and his assistant, Prof. Butler, got off the handsome ferry-boat Washington some one yelled "There's Corbett!"
The effect of these words was magical. The Crowd rushed madly across the street and almost carried Butler off his feet. "Three cheers of the Champion!" another enthusiast shouted, and they were given with a will. The pair sought temporary refuge in a nearby saloon. After a few minutes they came out and started for the Sixth avenue "L" station. The crowd went before, after and around them, and kept the cheering up all the way to the station.
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