AMBLELEG.
See p. [296].
Almost similar was the fate of a bewigged Parisian who was loafing and "mashing" behind the scenes of the Grand Opera. A dancer stood in the wings listening to the prattle of a silly old man. He was protesting heartily his love for the young lady, and was on the point of kissing her hand, when, as he stooped down, she snatched his wig from his head. At that moment she had to appear on the stage, and did so amid laughter and applause; for she carried with her the old fellow's scalp as if by way of trophy. The applause was less loud, but much more humorous on the stage; for the gay old lover and his bald head had to stand a deal of quizzing from those who, like himself, were in the wings waiting for their "little dears" to return.
Since the establishment of garden theatres for the summer months, in nearly all the large cities of the Union, the "masher" finds ample field for the kind of sport he indulges in. A girl in red tights created a great commotion among the swell mashers who frequented Uhrig's Cave, St. Louis, during the summer of 1881, and in that connection there could have been revelations that would carry grief into a few homes and bring disgrace upon not young and irresponsible men, but upon prominent citizens who were foolish enough to be fascinated by the crimson symmetricals. The fraternity have a peculiar way of working a summer garden. The phalanx of mashers begin operations early in the evening. They get to the garden before the lamps are lit, and dust some of the chairs with their coat-tails and pantaloons. They watch the singers as they enter and endeavor to catch some suggestion from them that a mash has been effected. Now and then a soft, gazelle-like glance or a sweet, girlish simper, like the smile on a sick monkey's under lip, gives a token of slight recognition, and then the masher's heart and eye are full of gladness. When the curtain is rung up and the glare turned on, the "mashers" move in a body towards the front of the stage and dust some more of the chairs. Then they fix their eyes like so many lances upon the girls and again attempt to impale hearts. After the performance they move in a double line to the side aisle of the garden, and, opening ranks, wait for the actresses to come out. When the actresses do come out they are obliged to run a gauntlet that would put any but a cast-iron woman with a heavy veil on to the reddest blush. Sometimes a "masher" accomplishes his aim in life and captures a girl, but it is seldom. The professional poser has too wide a reputation and his figure is as clear a "give-away" as the cigar-sign Indian's, so that a reputable young lady who cares anything about continuing to be respected and esteemed by her friends is obdurate to the glances, the moustache, the smiles, the white hat, light pantaloons, bamboo canes, and cheap button-hole bouquets—
The Saturday matinee young man,
The five-cent-cigar young man,
The sweetly susceptible, somewhat disrep'table,
Gaze-and-admire-me young man.
And so it goes on every night. Music and "mashing" so charmingly dovetail themselves to the entertainment that there is as much amusement in looking up one as in listening to the other.