Life — September 18, 1884 — page 10: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

- LIFE: THE ELECTRICAL EXHIBITION. "TRE much talked of Electrical Exhibition at Philadelphia has at last been opened and will well repay the visitor for his trouble unless, perchance, he happens to be one of the inhabitants of the regions about the recently undiscovered North Pole and is put to the necessity of getting an appropri- ation of half a million from Congress in order to pay his fare thence. Under such circumstances the Electrical Exhibition would be a rather expensive bit of enjoyment. Many and wonderful are the exhibits ! There is the great Electric Record, furnished by a Dyna- mic Individual from Maine, shining forth with exceeding brilliancy, though containing a large amount of positive mat- | ter which is shocking in the extreme. Connected with the Record is a small Motor—not perpetual, but worked by a | crank ; for full directions apply to W. X., Tribune Office—by which the inventor hopes to send his Record to the rear while | It may work, but | some consider it doubtful ; and the inventor himself occasion- | he himself keeps on toward the front. ally indulges in a decided Hypo for very fear of his Franken- stein, Jr. By common consent it is regarded as the most audacious bit of machinery in the Exhibition. Wearied with this last, we turn to the exhibit of a celebrated | Bunting Monopolist of Lowell, called the Streak Light- ning Statesman. This is a small arrangement in which a magnetized ball with a simple spark of electricity as motive power, strikes seven distinct rods at once. The rods are labelled “ Monop- oly,” “ Anti-Monopoly,” “ Friend of the Negro,” “ Love of the Irish,” “ Free Trader,” “* Protectionist” and “ Butlerite.” The curious part of the machine is that whereas the ball touches at the same moment, every single one of the rods, it has never yet been known to get away from the last named. Some people have faith in it, but to a majority of people it is only a homely though amusing toy. Several brilliant lights of pleasing variety are exhibited. By one the way in which a Congressman with $5,000 per annum, can live at the rate of $15,000 and save twice his income, is shown; another professes to throw light on the ways of a New York Alderman, while a third, which cannot fail to prove of inestimable value in these days of financial depression, can distinguish a Bank Cashier from a common petit larcener at once. The various kinds of lightning from forked and streaked, to Presidential and Jersey are shown with all their peculiari- ties. Taking it all in all, the Electrical Exhibition is a most mar- velous affair. THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUB. SOMF. CURIOUS POINTS IN THE NOBLE GAME UN- FOLDED. HEN Mr. TooTeR WILLIAMS entered the gilded halls of the Thompson Street Poker Club Saturday evening, it was evident that fortune had smeared him with prosperity. He wore a straw hat with a blue ribbon, an ex- pression of serene content, and a glass amethyst on his third finger whose effulgence irradiated the whole room and made the envious eyes of Mr. CYANIDE WHIFFLES stand out like a crab’s. Besides these extraordinary furbishments Mr. WILLIAMS had his moustache waxed to fine points and his back hair was precious with the lustre and richness which ac- company the use of the attar of 3d Avenue roses combined with the bear’s grease dispensed by basement barbers on that fashionable thoroughfare. In sharp contrast to this scintillating entrance was the | coming of the Rev. Mr. THANKFUL SMITH, who had been disheveled by the heat, discolored by a dusty evangelical trip to Coney Island, and oppressed by an attack of malaria which made his eyes bloodshot and enriched his respiration with occasional hiccoughs and that steady aroma which is said to dwell in Weehawken breweries. The game began at eight o'clock, and by nine and a series of two-pair hands and bull luck, Mr. Gus JOHNSON was seven dollars and a nickel ahead of the game, and the Rev. Mr. THANKFUL SMITH, who was banking, was nine stacks of chips and a dollar biil on the wrong side of the ledger. Mr. CYANIDE WHIFFLES was cheerful as a cricket over four winnings amounting to sixty-nine cents ; Professor BRICK was calm, and Mr. TOOTER WILLIAMS was gorgeous and hopeful and laying low for the first jack pot, which now came, It was Mr. WHIFFLES’ deal and, feeling that the eyes of the world were upon him, he passed around the cards with a precision and rapidity which were more to his credit than the I, O. U. from Mr. WILLIAMS which was left over from the previous meeting. Professor BRICK had nine high and declared his inability to make an opening. Mr. WILLIAMS noticed a dangerous light come into the Rev. Mr. SMITH’S eye and hesitated a moment, but having two black jacks and a pair of trays, opened with the limit. “TI liffs yo’ jess tree dollahs, Toor,” said the Rev. Mr. SMITH, getting out the wallet and shaking out a wad. Mr. Gus JOHNSON, who had a four flush and very little prudence, came in, Mr. WHIFFLES sighed and fled. Mr, WILLIAMS polished the amethyst, thoroughly exam- ined a scratch on one of its facets, adjusted his collar, skinned his cards, stealthily glanced again at the expression of the Rev. Mr. SMITH'S eye, and said he would “ Jess—jess call.” Mr. WHIFFLES supplied the wants of the gentlemen from the pack, with the mechanical air of a man who had lost all hope in a hereafter. Mr. WILLIAMS wanted one card; the Rev. Mr. SMITH said he'd take about three, and Mr. Gus JOHNSON expressed a desire for a club, if it was not too much trouble. comicbooks.com