There is nothing to them in the daytime, and the heavily carpeted floors and snowy-clad tables burdened with silver and glass are practically out of commission. There are a few waiters on duty, but no one ever heard of them being overworked, even with the rush of the merry-merry after a matinee.
These money-makers begin to rouse up a bit about the time the average man of business affairs is finishing his quiet dinner at home, but the time to go there if you want to see things, and by things I mean the sights and celebrities4, is after the theatres have let out the evening performance. Then, if you amount to anything, you will have a table where you can see and be seen, and you will feast upon a bite that will cost you nothing less than a ten-dollar bill, not including wine.
It’s only a dream after the lobster course
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The shining lights of this world are in a class by themselves, and include the bookmaker with a loud voice—a trifle heavier than his bank roll; the gambler, soft of hand and manner; the sport who has done something or other at some time or other to entitle him to a passing recognition; the detective sergeant5, who is a necessary evil, and who mixes in for business purposes of his own, and not for the purpose of doing the work for which he is paid by the city; then, last of all, the actor—star or semi-star.
They order as if the cooks in all the world were working for them alone, and the waiters were employed for their exclusive benefit. They are epicures6 and gourmets7 by force of circumstances, and the circumstances are a roll of bank bills about the size of a man’s wrist. Most of them have risen to a mushroom-like affluence8.
The money came quickly, and they are spending it just as quickly.
They know the difference in wines simply because of the price, and they order that which sounds the best, so for that reason a stream of the juice of the grape floods a bunch of uneducated palates and floats high-priced food that would kill a man with an ordinary digestive apparatus9.
Not one in a hundred of these men were to the manor10 born; their lives were cast in stony11 places and what they are they made themselves by sheer force of will, or else they accepted the golden wreath of opportunity and knew which road to take when they came to the forks.
At a table near the wall is a man who twenty years ago was a bootblack of the city’s streets.
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From river to river there was no spot on which he could put his finger and say:
“This is my home.”
He grew up like a blade of grass sprouting12 between stones, and he fought tooth and nail for his life. He knew what kicks and cuffs13 were, and if his memory isn’t bad he knows yet.
He blacked the boots of a man with florid face, a heavy gold chain across his vest, and a mammoth14 stone blazing like a headlight in his scarf, and because this boy was bright of eye and keen of wit his customer, whose business was politics, took a fancy to him. Had this little nomad15 been born with a gold spoon in his mouth he could not have fared better, nor could his prospects16 have been more alluring17, for a politician, you know, is a man who, when he goes to bed at night, hangs his trousers on the bedpost, and when he wakes up in the morning the pockets are full of money. At least, that is my idea, and if I am wrong just let some of the leading politicians of to-day contradict me, and tell me truly how they got theirs.
While this man is eating his lobster a la Newburg, and sipping18 the wine that cost him $5 a bottle, I’ll go on with the story.
For about two weeks he blacked his patron’s shoes, and then one fateful morning the man with the bull neck said sharply:
“Chuck that box away, son, and come along with me.”
He didn’t wait for the boy to take the cue and act on it, but he gave the box a kick with his square-toed boot that sent it to the middle of the street, and then he led
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the boy to a clothing shop where he had him fitted out with everything a fellow that size ought to have.
He saw possibilities in this youngster, and he figured that it would be a wise move to have some one as close to him as his shirt, and upon whom, in time of trouble, he could depend with absolute certainty.
A good bed, good food three times a day and money in the pocket serves often to make a marvelous transformation19, and it was so in this case, and the erstwhile bootblack forgot in a moment that he had ever shined shoes or performed any menial services for any human being. He was swept along on the tide of prosperity with his patron and he scoffed20 at poor things and poor people, as might have been expected. He was aggressive to everyone except his source of income, whom he followed and fawned21 upon like a hound.
The work he did was criminal, but he did it cheerfully, even though a hundred could have sent him up the river with a word. His morals were as flat as a desert, and he grew into a selfish, egotistical, arrogant22, blatant23 man whose friends were friends by force of circumstances, and not by reasons of any virtues24 that he possessed25, or of any real liking26 they had for him.
In the course of time the big man with the neck of a gladiator died, and was buried in a manner fitting his life. A ton of flowers followed him to the six-foot hole which had been provided for him; a few bottles of wine were drunk by his cronies to drown their grief and to toast his successful debut27 into that new and unknown world to which he had gone, and that was all.
The bootblack, who had taken himself seriously, and was fond of calling himself a gentleman on all possible occasions, for no other reason apparently28 than that he
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wore the best clothes that money could buy, took possession of his patron’s effects, rifled his safe, his desk, and appropriated to himself everything that was of the slightest value, and then developed into a short card man.
So he sits there to-night, eating lobster and talking to a woman who, between you and me, is worth looking at more than once.
By an old and familiar, as well as extremely simple, process she had taken his name. It was a trifling29 matter, settled in a moment over a small bottle, and her only speculation30 was as to whether he could suitably provide for her.
It was a very good investment for him, for she has proven to be a very useful little lady in more ways than one. She knows a lot of real nice boys, and when they get very sporty she tells them about a good game where good fellows may be found. She is the kind of a woman who would make a sport out of a church deacon, consequently she fits very snugly31 into the life and trade of our friend the shoe-shiner.
When you get to know her passing well she will tell you how she was educated in a convent, which she left to visit a wealthy aunt in Pittsburg. While there she became engaged to marry a rich broker32, and so on, and so on, you know, the same old story. The stage figures in it, too, because there is always a fascinating glamor33 about the other side of the footlights.
She has been in comic opera and she has a lot of expensive photographs of herself in theatrical34 poses, but no matter how well posted you may be you fail to recall her name, even though she was an understudy for Lillian Russell, “when Lillian was good.”
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If you let your glance rove across the room to a table close by one of the central pillars, you will see another type of woman, and this one is worth studying.
She will never see her fortieth birthday again, although she looks about thirty-two. That may be art, or it may be an inherited physical characteristic, but the fact remains35 that she is still young enough and good looking enough to attract a man.
She is a veritable star and her singing and acting36 are flawless.
The fine old gentleman she is chatting with is the head of a very ancient and very distinguished37 family of New York, and she is under his protecting wing.
That is a remarkable38 feature of her career; she always selects with painstaking39 care, nice old men, with families.
And for that there may be a good and sufficient reason.
While you are watching her and noting her rather dainty ways, which are perhaps a bit too dainty for one of her age, listen to the little story I am going to tell you about her.
Not so many years ago, but just about the time when she was in the zenith of her career, she met just the same kind of a man she is talking with now. She had had a great deal of experience with old men and she took advantage of all she knew to make him like her.
She succeeded—hence this story.
The old fellow was all right, and he knew what was necessary under the circumstances, and he made good with characteristic rapidity. The first thing he did was to buy her a handsome brownstone house on a quiet side street, fill it full of handsome furniture, and
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then he blew himself in for a neat little brougham and pair for theatre use.
So far, so good, and the play went merrily on.
And now comes a spectacle, or a melodrama40, or even a farce41, if you like.
He wasn’t her constant companion, because he was clever enough to realize that if she saw too much of him it might be fatal to his chances, so he timed his visits with careful exactitude, and incidentally showered her with gifts—which, after all, is one of the direct roads to a woman’s heart.
But he made the fatal mistake one day of introducing to her one of his old friends, and from that moment there began a fierce rivalry42 between them for the smiles of the auburn-haired actress; it was a duel43 with a lock of hair as a reward; a combat with a smile for the victor, and they both went to work with a will and to the exclusion44 of every other object in life.
When one bought her a magnificent solitaire, she showed it to the other and he promptly45 laid a tiara at her feet, and it was unquestionably the greatest battle of senile old idiots that ever raged.
Separately they took to waylaying46 her on the street from her house to the theatre, and back again, and one even went so far as to buy a magnificent yacht, equip it for a long cruise, and attempt to kidnap her. But that plan failed, and it was just as well that it did, because the man who does eccentric stunts47 of that character is apt to find himself in hot water sooner or later, and in any event reap a whirlwind of scorn from the lady in the case.
Finally, the climax48 came, as it was bound to come, when they met at her house one Sunday afternoon.
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All this may be new to you, but you must remember it was as common in club circles as the Spanish war, and the results of the affair were watched for by thousands of men whose names figure conspicuously49 in the public prints.
They met and they quarreled, and when my lady appeared on the scene these two beaux were on the verge50 of punching each other in good old Queensbury fashion.
“Gentlemen, gentlemen, I beg that you will not quarrel in my house.”
You will notice that she put the accent on the word “my.”
At once there were criminations and recriminations, but with that charm of manner which made her famous, not only on the stage, but in the drawing room, to say nothing of the cafe, she poured oil on the troubled waters.
“I do not really know what your differences are about, but if you will allow me, I would like to suggest that you settle them in some amicable51 way. Here are dice52 and a cup, why not play for it?”
They looked at each other for a moment, and then one said:
“Yes, we will do it, madame, just the thing. Here, I will make the first throw,” and out upon the shining surface of the golden table rolled the three ivory cubes.
They fought it out while she looked on languidly, and at last when it had been decided53, the winner arose exultingly54 and shouted:
“I have won.”
“Won what?” she queried55, curiously56.
“Won what? Why, won you.”
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“Won me?” and she placed her taper57 finger on her breast. “Why, how very charming that is. I ought to congratulate you, I suppose, and I shall certainly let you know when I come back—if you are still alive.”
“You’re not going away?” he faltered58. “When?”
“I sail to-morrow morning at eight o’clock; I go aboard this afternoon. I am going to Europe for a good long rest; mother says I need it, and so we are going together. Good afternoon. Let me congratulate you on being so lucky, and to win me, too. Why, it’s like a romance. How splendidly that would stage.”
Down the street the two old fellows walked, one slightly in advance of the other. At the corner the one who was ahead, hesitated a moment, then turned and waited for the other to come up.
“Tom,” he said. “I don’t know what you think, but I am of the opinion that we are a pair of damned old fools who ought to know better. Let’s go and have a drink.”
The old gentleman who is pouring out that wine for her now would perhaps like to hear that story in all its wealth of detail, but even if he knew it might make no difference.
Of all the thousands of people who go to restaurants there are only a few who do not go for the sole purpose of eating. We have been here an hour and have looked over but two tables, and the story is not half told.
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1
joints
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| 接头( joint的名词复数 )； 关节； 公共场所（尤指价格低廉的饮食和娱乐场所） （非正式）； 一块烤肉 （英式英语） | |
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dubbing
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| n.配音v.给…起绰号( dub的现在分词 )；把…称为；配音；复制 | |
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3
lobster
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| n.龙虾，龙虾肉 | |
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celebrities
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| n.（尤指娱乐界的）名人( celebrity的名词复数 )；名流；名声；名誉 | |
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sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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epicures
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| n.讲究饮食的人( epicure的名词复数 ) | |
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gourmets
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| 讲究吃喝的人，美食家( gourmet的名词复数 ) | |
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affluence
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| n.充裕，富足 | |
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apparatus
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| n.装置，器械；器具，设备 | |
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10
manor
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| n.庄园，领地 | |
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stony
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| adj.石头的，多石头的，冷酷的，无情的 | |
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sprouting
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| v.发芽( sprout的现在分词 )；抽芽；出现；（使）涌现出 | |
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13
cuffs
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| n.袖口( cuff的名词复数 )v.掌打，拳打( cuff的第三人称单数 ) | |
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14
mammoth
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| n.长毛象；adj.长毛象似的，巨大的 | |
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15
nomad
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| n.游牧部落的人，流浪者，游牧民 | |
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16
prospects
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| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
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alluring
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| adj.吸引人的，迷人的 | |
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18
sipping
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的现在分词 ) | |
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19
transformation
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| n.变化；改造；转变 | |
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scoffed
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| 嘲笑，嘲弄( scoff的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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21
fawned
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| v.（尤指狗等）跳过来往人身上蹭以示亲热( fawn的过去式和过去分词 )；巴结；讨好 | |
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22
arrogant
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| adj.傲慢的，自大的 | |
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23
blatant
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| adj.厚颜无耻的；显眼的；炫耀的 | |
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24
virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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debut
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| n.首次演出，初次露面 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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trifling
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| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
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speculation
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| n.思索，沉思；猜测；投机 | |
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snugly
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| adv.紧贴地；贴身地；暖和舒适地；安适地 | |
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broker
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| n.中间人，经纪人；v.作为中间人来安排 | |
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glamor
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| n.魅力，吸引力 | |
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theatrical
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| adj.剧场的，演戏的；做戏似的，做作的 | |
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35
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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painstaking
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| adj.苦干的；艰苦的，费力的，刻苦的 | |
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40
melodrama
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| n.音乐剧；情节剧 | |
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41
farce
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| n.闹剧，笑剧，滑稽戏；胡闹 | |
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42
rivalry
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| n.竞争，竞赛，对抗 | |
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43
duel
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| n./v.决斗；(双方的)斗争 | |
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44
exclusion
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| n.拒绝，排除，排斥，远足，远途旅行 | |
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45
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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waylaying
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| v.拦截，拦路( waylay的现在分词 ) | |
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47
stunts
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| n.惊人的表演( stunt的名词复数 )；（广告中）引人注目的花招；愚蠢行为；危险举动v.阻碍…发育[生长]，抑制，妨碍( stunt的第三人称单数 ) | |
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48
climax
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| n.顶点；高潮；v.(使)达到顶点 | |
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conspicuously
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| ad.明显地，惹人注目地 | |
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50
verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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51
amicable
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| adj.和平的，友好的；友善的 | |
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52
dice
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| n.骰子；vt.把（食物）切成小方块，冒险 | |
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53
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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54
exultingly
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| 兴高采烈地，得意地 | |
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55
queried
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| v.质疑，对…表示疑问( query的过去式和过去分词 )；询问 | |
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56
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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57
taper
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| n.小蜡烛，尖细，渐弱；adj.尖细的；v.逐渐变小 | |
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58
faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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