Rensselaer Union, Volume 10, Number 19, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 24 January 1878 — Fun Among the Members of the Philadelphia Commercial Exchange. [ARTICLE]

Fun Among the Members of the Philadelphia Commercial Exchange.

The first half-dozen or so of the members of the Commercial Exchange who reached the Board yesterday morning constituted themselves a committee on reception. Armed with tin horns and the inflated bladders with which Clown so unmercifully pommels luckless Pantaloon, on the stage, they awaited fresh arrivals. As the members reached the top of the stairs they were received with a deafening flourish from the horns. This compliment, as a rule, was acknowledged with a profound bow, which was the signal for the opening of hostilities. The committee would draw the bladders from beneath their coat-tails, and the first blow, given with a hearty good-will, would light on the new-cotner’s hat and send it scurrying across the floor. Away he would fly after it, only to catch it on every side from his relentless pursuers, who would pound away at him until the cry of “fresh fish” from the outposts would announce another victim- When the last man had regained his wind he would enroll himself in the ranks, and mete out to the next unfortunate, with redoubled vigor, the punishment bestowed on him. Hats, especially high ones, were the objective point of attack, and when Stephen N. Winslow, editor of the Commercial List, entered the hall in search of a few items, with a brand-new tile perched upon his head, a mighty shout of “ bounce him” went up as he was in the midst of his enemies. Mr. Winslow speeded around the hall once or twice, in a vain effort to escape from his assailants. His time was good, but there was just so much latent force held in reserve for the newspaper man, and he got the full benefit of it. As he flew down the stairs in escape, three steps at a time, as if to add insult to injury, a gentleman, who had been there, innocently inquired: “Steve, have you been up-stairs?” “ Have I?” he indignantly shouted, “loojeat that,” and, shoving his damaged two-storied head-cover into his tormentor’s face, he rapidly continued toward his office, with vengeance clouding his brow. Toward noon the fun became rougher. Bags of flour were thrown and bursted until the floor looked as if the Exchange had been out in a snow-storm, with no roof to cover it, and, to cap the climax, some one hurled a full-sized foot-ball into the center of the room. For two long hours the members kicked, pushed and scrambled, and upset each other, without fear or favor, until they were completely exhausted and were forced to sit down for repairs.—Philadelphia Times.