I'm in the midst of a particularly stuporous jet-lagged stupor, so here's a very serious article from 1897 to entertain everyone until my wits return. Oh, those manly Boston dandies!
A few equally serious editorial comments are interpolated in italics.
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Ballroom Heroes.
Some Instances of Bravery Displayed There by Dancing Men.
Boston Daily Globe. December 27, 1897. Pg. 20.
The men who frequent dancing rooms are not by any means so effeminate as some scornful members of the stronger sex would have us believe. Dandies are capable of courage in emergencies, and brave deeds are occasionally performed even in the enervating atmosphere of the ballroom.
While in the act of snatching a kiss from an attractive girl under the mistletoe, a young masher felt a breath of hot air on his face, and, glancing up, saw that the evergreens on the large chandelier had caught fire and were blazing away merrily.
A quick look around the room told him that the other dancers were unaware of the catastrophe, so he drew back a pace, measured his distance, and with one gigantic spring managed to catch hold of the chandelier. Hanging on by one hand, he rapidly pulled down the burning evergreens and cast them to the floor, scorching his arms terribly in the process, but never once flinching.
(Throwing burning boughs onto a wooden dance floor populated in part by women in flammable gowns no doubt seemed like a better idea than, say, shouting FIRE! and clearing the room.)
Beyond a doubt his ready resource prevented a conflagration, but he suffered so much that one of his hands had to be amputated. His beautiful mustache, of which he was inordinately proud, was also frizzled up by the fire.
(The loss of a mustache is really quite as serious to a dandy as having one's hand burned off. Think about it.)
A somewhat similar feat was performed by a conceited but daring young coxcomb in a crowded ballroom last winter. Several laides [sic] had fainted for want of air, and, as the ventilator in the roof would not answer to its pulley, the young dandy volunteered to scramble up the fragile rope and see what was amiss. This was the only practicable method of obtaining relief, for some larking guest had locked the door of the room on the outside, and it was impossible to break it open.
(It is not a problem to be locked in a ballroom indefinitely as long as there is good ventilation so one can keep dancing. And as long as the chandelier doesn't catch fire.)
The young fellow cut his hands almost to ribbons before he reached the ventilator, and even when he got up found it impossible to open it. Undeterred by this, though, he unhesitatingly banged his head through the thick glass, and then slid to the ground, where he fainted from loss of blood. -- (Tid-Bits.
(Severing a carotid artery on a glass plate one has just shoved one's head through will definitely cause some blood loss, yep. But it's heroic!)
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