[p. 4]
The Rows of Yesterday
Providence does provide for the lame and the lazy, and against every form of intolerable weather. Yesterday was a day of extraordinary heat--a day when thermometers came into general and extensive use, when fans went up in the market, and leanness was at premium. The heat was sweltering. Good people looked dismally faint; bad people called for brandy and water, as if the fire were to be quenched on homeopathic principles. Meanwhile there were brewing up town such rows as clear the air, and at the same time make men careless of what the weather is.
There was, first of all, the grand row at the Metropolitan--of which elsewhere we have spoken.
Then there was at Hope Chapel another matter of like sort, growing out of another cause, however. Strange to say, there were no women in the case. The point of the difficulty was, that according to the Constitution of the State Temperance Alliance, whenever a Society which is not auxiliary to it wishes to be represented in the State Alliance, the delegates for such purpose must be appointed by the Vice-President for the district in which such semi-auxiliary is located. Now the City Alliance has not been officially recognized as an auxiliary, yet has always acted as if it were one. In short, there presented themselves two sets of delegates from this quarter claiming seats. To settle it, a row was kicked up,--this is the remedy for all metropolitan diseases now-a-days. The end of it was, that the set democratically appointed, and led off by Mr. LUCIAN BURLEIGH, was admitted, while the set appointed by the Vice-President, and led off by RENSSELAER HAVENS, Esq., was ejected. Wonder that between such good men there possibly could have been a difficulty, but the Grand Rumpus at Metropolitan was not sufficient to cool off heated citizens. This also was needed.
Row number three was a very jolly affair, a regular break-down at the Tabernacle. The women had their rights and more beside. The cause was simply that the rowdyish diathesis is just now prevalent. True, a colored woman made a speech, but there was nothing in that to excite a multitude. She didn't speak too low to be heard,--she did not insult them with improper language. Nor did the rowdies respond at all insultingly. They did not curse,--they only called for half a dozen on the shell. They didn't swear, they only hurried up that stew. They did wrong, however. If we had our own way, every rascally rowdy among them should have Bloomers of all colors preaching at them by the year,--a year for every naughty word they uttered, a score of them for every hiss. Out upon the villains who go to any meeting to disturb it. Let anybody, who can hire a house and pay for it, have his say, and let none be disturbed. The sensitive can stay away. But for us,-- let us be thankful that for such hot weather there is something to arouse us, something to season our insipid dishes, something to spice our dull days with. Mem. It was cooler in the evening.