THEY THOUGHT IT WAS HOT.
Bunch of Eastern Tourists Complain
of This Lovely Weather.
One hundred and ten tourists spent yesterday in Kansas City and displayed 110 different kinds of advertising fans from fifteen different cities.
"This must be the hottest place in the world," panted a matron from Syracuse, N. Y. , as she sat in front of the Midland hotel propelling a fan which advertised a dry goods store in Salt Lake City.
"It's simply a smother, after coming here direct from the mountains where we threw snowballs yesterday," gasped a lady with glasses and a drug store advertising fan from Seattle.
"We left New York a month ago and are now going home, after a tour of Canada, the Great Lakes, the Rockies and the Pacific coast," said James Kintort of Philadelphia, the manager, as he worked a Kansas City hat store fan.
"We had a fine time in your city, but the party is wilted. My collar looks like a celery three days old."
"It strikes me," sizzled a Boston youth between gusts from his paper fan from Albuquerque, N. M., "it strikes me that if I owned this hotel, I would have the palms placed on rapidly revolving pedestals. Natural palm leaf fans. Do you catch the point, eh?"
"Your car to the depot is ready!" called out Kintort, and the whole party ran for it with flans flying.
"No wonder that bunch is hot," chortled a bell hop. "They've been running like that all day."
