The third Monday in January is the date Mrs. William Astor has appropriated for her annual ball, which is fast becoming the high point of the season. An invitation to this society event signals that a person has been decreed by the hostess and her so-called gatekeeper, Mr. Samuel Ward McAllister, to have a satisfactory pedigree and to be untainted by the stain of newly minted money. Those of humble origin, whose wealth is attributable to commerce, will never enter that hallowed portal. This year, a number of those omitted from the guest list left the Metropolis in advance of the great day in search of fresh country air, having been advised to do so by their physicians, who had been advised to advise them to do so! We know of at least one prominent family who, having failed to persuade Mrs. Astor’s gatekeeper of their right to an invitation, took the extreme measure of crossing the Atlantic to avoid the accusation of having been snubbed.

As ever, this year’s glittering occasion was attended by the cream of New York society, with the hoi polloi being kept at bay by the policemen drafted in to conduct the traffic which clogged the avenue from nine in the evening. Owing to the ladies’ continuing allegiance to the crinoline, the gentlemen perforce arrived on foot at the red-carpeted sidewalk, while the so-called weaker sex traveled with their maids and their metal cages in carriages.

Mr. William Astor was once again absent, apparently enjoying the solitude of his yacht—unlike his spouse, a self-professed poor sailor, Mr. Astor prefers the high seas to High Society! All the mundane details of the great event—the various toilettes, descriptions of the glittering jewelry adorning the ladies, the order of the dance and who partnered who with what level of skill and dexterity (or lack of it!)—can be found in other newspapers. Suffice for us to say that the ladies were beautiful, the gentlemen distinguished, and the notoriously baffling (for the uninitiated) German dance was performed.

The cost of the evening must have made even the rich Mrs. William Astor’s eyes water. Five hundred bottles of champagne were consumed. That is more than one per guest, assuming the hard-worked staff refrained from imbibing, at over four dollars a pop! The famed Midnight Supper consisted of hot and cold service. The menu included cold quail, tongue, and a variety of force-meats, all of which sound much more appetizing in French.