The _Southern Traveler_, published by the Rust brothers, Richard and W. E., had moved into a new building just around the corner of Levee Street, and that, some people felt, might help to sweeten the atmosphere. They were in the process of giving this a fair chance when the amalgamation of Lafayette and New Orleans was proposed. So now, it appeared, the matter was moot.
Anyway, on this particular day, at this particular hour, the two Laytons' attention was diverted by the arrival, from opposite directions, of two parades. One, headed by top-hatted horsemen, red bands across their chests, issued from lower Rousseau Street. The blasts of the familiar brass band were the unmistakable label of the merry Germans, who for this occasion were arm in arm with their neighbors of the Irish Channel section of Lafayette, the streets closest to the upper limit of New Orleans and nearest the river, Felicity, St. Mary, Adele and Nuns. The German families congregated for excitement at the Lafayette Ballroom, St. Mary corner of Bellechasse. This day produced a delightful excuse for excitement at the Lafayette, not that an excuse was generally necessary. The merriment there was known to last as long as the poker game in the back room, which was eternal. William Toy, the blue-nosed editor of the _City Advertiser_ and ardent temperance crusader, often thundered in print about these "sounds of revelry by night" and by morn, too.
The Lafayette was in contrast to the more sedate ballroom run by Mr. Jacob Kaiser, Josephine corner of Chippewa, across from the back of the Orphan Boys' Home. This was more of a coffee house, where political meetings were held, and only on Saturday night did its hall echo loud and long. Early Sunday morning the good ladies of the Roman Catholic Church congregation barely had time to clean out the hall before early Mass. This was before St. Mary's Church was built by the Redemptorists.
The other retinue, made up mostly of squeaky two-wheeled carts toting frosty barrels of conviviality for the celebration, snaked along Rousseau Street toward Jackson. This parade had no brass band, but it had collected more of a crowd than if it had. Mr. Kranz had thoughtfully supplied the refrigerant from his popular ice house on Soraparu, just off Rousseau, and the Lafayette Rum Distillery on Levee, between First and Second Streets, had provided the rest of the refreshments.
