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Show The Ball at Providence On Friday evening last another of the balls given by the Angell Orchestra and Mr. Henry Bullock came off at Providence Hall. It was well attended, and, up to intermission, was as pleasant and orderly as could have been desired. But the genius of "hoodlumism" only slept, at length to awaken, and, we are pained to say, to manifest itself first at the table on the stage, where twenty to thirty persons were eating a supper prepare by Mr. Henry Bullock. The latter became highly indignant at the conduct of a portion of the company while they were seated at the table, whether justly or unjustly we will mot pretend to decide, and expressed his indignation in a very open manner. While the "first table" people were devouring the viands, a huge number were waiting for their turn. To break the monotony, members of the company commenced singing, to an organ accompaniment. By way of chorus, some "hoodlums" present rendered a highly creditable imitation of a dog in distress, and [unreadable] as of a cat in mortal agony, rent the air. Soon after dancing was resumed, a young man who was pretty drunk, undertook to polka with a young lady, and in the attempt fell sprawling on his back upon the floor. The next dance was a cotillion, and by George the same girl danced with him. Soon after this a "hoodlum" with a red face, unkempt hair, pants in boots and wearing the "hoodlum" badge - a red bandana - around his neck, when requested to make less noise, used very insulting language to the constable. If the latter had had any respect for his office, he would have inspired that "hoodlum" with some respect for it, too. This [same] "hood" stuck a bottle of whisky under the nose of a musician and asked him to drink. A large quantity of bad whisky was consumed during the evening, and more than one "hoodlum" drank his "mule's ear" measure. We went to the hall in a wagon with a party of friends, and just as the floor was being cleared for the last time, we donned hat and overcoat, and were on the point of starting after the driver while the ladies were adjusting their wraps, when, glancing towards the door, we beheld the constable dragging out by the collar, our driver! His legs were like "tallowed rags", utterly incompetent to sustain his body in a vertical position. Here was a pretty pickle! A party of ladies - we thanked our lucky stars that we had no partner - had to be conveyed home, but how? The driver was boosted into his seat - he swore he wouldn't let anyone else drive - and a gentleman of the party sat on either side of him to hold him up while he held the lines, and thus we all reached Logan in safety. The Angell Orchestra, with Henry Bullock, are engaged in a good cause, and determined to curtail their invitation list until no person shall be invited who cannot be trusted to observe proper decorum. We look to see some more scratching of the bet before our next ball. In justice to the orchestra and Mr. Bullock we will say that our driver was not invited, and that he only entered the hall as the ball closed, and that they are doing their utmost to make their dances strictly select. |