Our daily fare. (Philadelphia, Pa.) 1864-1865, June 17, 1864, Image 7

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    pipe and chandelier from the Slate Roof house ;
curious writings; inaugural of Penn as first
governor of Pennsylvania; “Extra Bulletin,
fourth edition,” announcing same platform
adopted by the Penn Nomination Convention ;
Penn's letter of acceptance ; and the copy of
a telegram, viz. :
Philadelphia, 3mo 10th, 1090. j
Gulielma Maria Springett Penn, l
sth Avenue Hotel, N. Y., )
I will join thee to morrow. I start in the
eleven o’clock train to-night—fast line—Cam
den and Amboy. Wm. I’enn.
Tableaux vivant—Penn family at tea —Con-
traband waiters.
Bill of Fare: Slippery Elm Tea, Aerated
Bread, Tomatoes, Ice Cream, Strawberries,
Smear Case,
These I believe are the most notable. But I
must close. If you publish this I shall annoy
you again,
Come on. Dare say we can “ stand it ” as
long as you can.
The following record of patience under mis
fortunes of a varied and trying nature was
picked up by one of our news-boys just out
side the Penn Parlor:
Dear Sal —l write to let you that lam wel
and happy in Philadelfy, also have had all my
close stold. There is a great many prety girls
at the Sannetairy, but dont think I look at
thum. I miss you too much, indeed I begin
to think that sepperation from you is very like
another world called Deth.
Ever yours,
Authenticity guaranteed. At least ’twas
found so.
Who says that the Fair is’nt kept clean.
Germans call girls “brooms”—how they sweep
is set forth in the following, by one of our
Fairies
Said tlic Mayor of our City “It much mo distresses
Our streets are so dirty, no brooms and no men
“Never mind,” said tho girts, “we have all our new
dresses,”
Tlioso good littlo girls of the City of Penn.
“ Organdy, silk, barege and grey grenadine,
No need is there surely of brooms or of men ;
Only let us alone and we’ll sweep them all clean,”
Said those good little girls of tho City of Penn.
SHAKBPEARE ON THE SWORD.
An artist ctlls our attention to the very
spirited Drawing of the Sword ; he ranks it
among the best steel cuts of the day. Price
only one dollar. He remarks that Shaks
peare, in the matter of the “Two Gentlemen
of Verona,” had a leaning one way:
“ Vouchsafe me, for my meed, but one fair look,
A smaller boon than this I cannot beg,
And less than this, I am sure, you cannot give”-
but, for the artist’s part, he is contented to let
the people decide who shall draw the sword
frota the sheath, with the sheath, and leave a
large amount for the Sanitary—say ten thou
sand dollars —
“And less than this, I am sure, you cannot givel”
Otje ZDaaily Fare.
TRIALS OF A COMMITTEE MAN.
Mr. Editor: —lt is to be hoped that the
Sanitary Commission will appreciate the labors
of the ladies and gentlemen who have been
acting on the committees of the Central
Fair. Those who have not actually been “in
the harness” and performed the manual labor
of working up the commercial mind to the
donation pitch, can hardly comprehend the
many and manifold petty annoyances and vex
ations which have hindered us in our labors of
love and charity. Let me give you a few in
stances of my daily experience while acting
as a member of the Committee on .
Having every evening, for a fortnight previous,
been employed with my wife, her two maiden
sisters, five children, and my grandmother, in
writing circulars, folding, enveloping, address
ing, sticking, and stamping the same, and hav
ing duly posted them all at the nearest lamp
post, I started off, one misty, moisty morning
—that weather being, in my judgment, admi
rably adapted for keeping my “ constituents ”
at their places of business—and commenced
my calls upon them in alphabetical order.
With a mingled feeling of nervous appre
hension and shyness at the unwonted occupa
tion in which I found myself engaged, I timidly
entered the magnificent warehouse of Storeum,
Prophet & Co., and inquired if any of the firm
were in and disengaged. A florid, bustling in
dividual advanced, and seizing my hand with
cordial greeting, at once placed me on the pin
nacle of auspicious hope. “Sir,” he said, on
hearing my name, “I am delighted to see you
—you have arrived most opportunely. We
never —no, sir, never had so large and elegant
a stock of desirable goods as at the present
moment. If you will step up stairs I will
show you samples of such as are now landing
Ex ‘Rover,’ Ex ‘Queen of the Isles,’ and
Ex ‘Julius Cmsar’—this way, sir, if you
please.” At the first interval of breathing
space, I hastened to say to Mr. Storeum that
I would not trouble him to display his mer
chandize to me, but that anything he himself
might choose to select would be acceptable, &c.
Wayfarer.
Storeum’s expansive countenance concen
trated itself into a profound stare of incompre
hensibility, until after a pause he exclaimed,
“ My dear sir, you really do not mean that we
shall select your goods ! You of course know
your own wants and customers best.” “Cus
tomers!” I replied, “I have no customers, —
you do not, I hope, mistake the object of my
visit; I am no purchaser, but am simply so
liciting donations for our Great Central
Fair which is to take place on the .”
“Fair!” replied Storeum and his suavitcr in
modo suddenly became transformed into an at
titude of melanoholy disgust, “ Fair, sir, I’ve
nothing to do with Fairs and dont mean to
have, and as I am particularly busy just now,
I’ll wish you a very good morning.” Exit
your humble servant, crest fallen as a new hat
caught in a shower. After walking a while
under the concealing canopy of my umbrella,
absorbed in reflecting upon the deteriorating
influence of commercial life in general, and
the expediency of Central Fairs in par
ticular, I found myself searching the signs for
the name of the second hopeless individual in
my list of contributors. At last I found it,
and with my lesson in adversity freshly in
mind, determine to adopt a different mode of
attack.
With fear in my heart, but with the sem
blance of indomitable courage in my eye, I
entered the counting-room and commenced in
this wise : “ Mr. S. Sawder, I believe—ahem!
—Mr. Sawder I sent you a few days since a
circular from the Committee on * * *
for the Central Fair. I take it for granted
that you intend contributing to this vast be
nevolent object: an object, sir, that redounds
to the glory of the Federal Union—a cause,
sir, etc., etc. Before you reply, sir, I beg to
state that if you should, from any possible
cause, see fit to decline, you will be a solitary
exception to your fellow-citizens and the trade
in general; that is, sir, with one other single
instant, for in one single instance only have I
met with a refusal to contribute to this mag
nificent charity Mr. S. Sawder looked
upon me with a sort of Christian resignation,
and clasping his white elongated fingers, half
dozed his benignant eyelids, and delivered him
self in this wise: “ I doubt not, my dear sir,
that tho object of this enterprise is fully
deserving of the encomiums you so happily
apply to it. In fact, Mrs. S. Sawder, and I
myself, have frequently selected the case of the
sick and suffering soldier as the topic for dis
cussion in the quiet circle of my domestic fire
side ; but, alas! sir, charity begins at home.
The gains of my business, and I admit they
are by no means small, are devoted to the
education of my children, to the adornments
of the social sphere, to the cultivation of those
virtues and graces which so eminently”—at
this juncture I made my escape ; wisely judg
ing that the style and value of the contribu
tion likely to be made by S. Sawder & Co.
would not require much space or attention in
the Central Fair.
I will not burden your columns, Mr. Editor,
with a detailed account of my visits on that
memorable first day of my committee work.
It will be sufficient to say that the task was at
first most discouraging. Mr. Small Taters
said that “business had been bad” last year,
and he could not afford to give any thing. lie
was smoking at the time a regalia cigar which
never cost less than 25 cents, and sporting a
pin consisting of a carbuncle, set in diamonds.
Then there were'Messrs. Slaughter & Co., who
wouldn’t give because they thought “ the Ad
ministration was too slow, and didn’t push on