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Updated: June 24, 2025
The Captain dressed me up in fine clothes for a month or so, and gave me paint and patches, and took me to the Playhouse with a mask on, and then he got stabbed in a broil after some gambling bout at a China House in Smock Alley, and I was left in the wide world with two satin sacques, a box of cosmetiques, a broken fan, two spade guineas, and little else besides what I stood upright in.
"I hope so," Morris replied. "Now we can make up some of them Arverne Sacques."
"No, Mawruss," Abe replied, "I'm sorry to say we can't, because, by the agreement what Henry D. Feldman drew up, Sammet Brothers has the sole right to make up and sell the Arverne Sacques; but I seen to it, Mawruss, that we got the right to make up and sell every other garment what Louis Grossman originated for them this season." He smiled triumphantly at his partner.
A hundred years, to be sure, is a good while; but though fashions have changed, some old phrases dropped out, and new ones come in; and snuff and hair-powder, and sacques and solitaires quite passed away yet men and women were men and women all the same as elderly fellows, like your humble servant, who have seen and talked with rearward stragglers of that generation now all and long marched off can testify, if they will.
There were also a number of children, and some women, in the streets. These apparently belonged to the poorer classes. Hats and bonnets were scarce among them, though all the women, and many of the little girls, had on close-fitting muslin caps. They wore short, loose sacques, and short dress skirts, made up without trimmings. The boys were dressed in jackets and baggy trousers.
His Arverne Sacques is all right, Barney, but the rest is nix. He's a one garment man. Tell Miss Aaronstamm to bring in her book. I want to send them Boston Store people a letter." A moment later Miss Aaronstamm entered, and sat down at a sample table. "Write to the Boston Store," Leon Sammet said. "'Horowitz & Finkelbein, Proprietors, Gents' got that?
So they submitted themselves to his word, as one of authority, and took upon themselves the sad duty of watching a loved life drift peacefully out, and trying to say, as the end drew near: "Thy will be done." The big rocking-chair, the pretty wrappers, and gayly colored sacques were all laid aside now.
Sunday, June 5th. ... On my return from afternoon service found Mr. Walpole with my mother; they amused me extremely by a conversation in which they ran over, as far as their memories would stretch (near sixty years), the various fashions and absurd modes of dress which have prevailed during that period. Toupees, fêtes, toques, bouffantes, hoops, bell hoops, sacques, polonaises, levites, and all the paraphernalia of horsehair, powder, pomatum, and pins, in the days when court beauties had their heads dressed over-night for the next day's drawing-room, and sat up in their chairs for fear of destroying the edifice by lying down. No wonder they were obliged to rouge themselves the days when once in a fortnight was considered often enough for ridding the hair of its horrible paste of flour and grease. We are certainly cleaner than our grandmothers, and much more comfortable, though it is not so long since my own head was dressed
And quite as fine and quite as quaint were the ladies that followed in their gay flowered "sacques" looped back from bright petticoats and point lace aprons.
Panel's thin voice as she whispered dole-fully to me: "Jaspar is crazy, after all." "No, he isn't," I whispered back. Jaspar continued in a mild voice: "What does a way-up outfit o' lady's clothes cost: sealskin sacques, satins, the best of everything outside and in?" "I don't know." "You've got to figger it out quick!" "Say ten thousand, more or less."
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