There was lots of fun in those days. No one had much to do but to enjoy
life and boost Fort Worth. They did both to the extreme limit. A man
could and did wear the same suit of clothes year after year and no one
commented on his frugality or poverty. Women wore the same dresses to
church, Sunday after Sunday, and no one was found to criticise. The
girls, and there were pretty girls then as now, not so plentiful, only
because there were not so many girls, wore the same dresses (that was
before they commenced wearing "gowns" in the daytime) to all society
gatherings without apology or explanation.
They did not find it necessary to cut their dresses for high water or
low in the neck in order to display their physical charms. There were
dances in the court room, in a hall over a livery stable and at private
residences, occasionally. They danced the cotillion, lancers, Virginia
reel. The tango, bunny hug, turkey trot and other fancy stunts were
unknown.
There were picnics on the Clear Fork in the daytime and by moonlight,
when the moon was in commission. Everybody was happy and tried to make
his neighbor happy. Good old days.
The practical joker had plenty of time in which to indulge in his fun.
One of the best of these was on General Peers, who kept the Commercial
Hotel, at the corner of Fifth and Commerce streets. As usual, every one
was on the qui vive for railroad news. One day John S. Hirshfield had a
spurious telegram delivered to the General, purporting to be from the
private secretary of Jay Gould, the then president of the Texas &
Pacific, announcing that Mr. Gould and a party of capitalists would
arrive on the stage that afternoon and asking that provision be made for
their entertainment. It was signed by "Tom Collins," at that day the
cognomen for all imaginary and fictitious persons. But the General did
not know this and proceeded to buy up all the turkeys in the market and
all the other delicacies to be had. He was instigated to invite about
fifty of the more prominent citizens to dine with Mr. Gould. The plan
was for each of the invited guests to pay for his dinner so that the
hotel would suffer no loss. Along in the afternoon, Charles Fallbush,
who traveled for the wholesale liquor house of Day & Co. came in from a
western trip, dusty and travel stained and was introduced to General
Peers, as Tom Collins, the Secretary of Mr. Gould. Fallbush explained
that he had driven over from Dallas ahead of the party to see that all
arrangements were made for the entertainment of his chief. The scheme
was working beautifully until "Tuck" Boaz, not being advised that the
invited guests were to pay for the dinner and not wishing the General to
suffer such a loss gave the game away.
The "tender-foot" was an easy mark for the practical joker and many of
the "tales that were told" about the condition of affairs in Texas were
the result of the jests played on men unused to the customs of Texas. On
one occasion a man by the name of Robinson, who traveled for the Hall
Safe and Lock Co., badgered his friends about being afraid of Indians.
At that time there was not an Indian in Texas, but, of course, he did
not know that. He was persuaded by some of the traveling men who then
made the western territory to accompany him on a trip out west. The man
consented and went as far as Comanche. They laid over there on Sunday
and the stranger was regaled all the day with stories of the
hair-breadth escapes that members of the party at the hotel had made in
the recent past. The "tender-foot" was not afraid of Indians. About the
middle of the afternoon the party dissolved, one at a time until only
the stranger and the drummer he was with were left in the hotel. Then a
suggestion was made that they two take a walk up the banks of Indian
Creek, which runs by the town. He was glad to go. Was not afraid of
Indians. Oh no. About half a mile from town those who had gone ahead
suddenly rushed out of the mesquite firing their pistols and yelling
like mad. The stranger was told to run for his life--and he did. His
companion soon fell to the ground calling on him to run. He ran into
town and under the hotel. The Democrat published a column or two about
the event and sold Robinson one hundred and fifty copies at ten cents
per. He mailed them to every one of his acquaintance east of the
Mississippi and was a hero, until the next issue told the truth about
the event. He did not order any extra copies of that issue.
These are sample bricks of what was going on most of the time, and will
suffice to indicate that life was not a burden to those who were waiting
for something to turn up, and who knew how to enjoy their enforced
idleness.