If you do not know Bogle's Chop House and Family Restaurant it is your loss. For if you are one of the fortunate ones who dine expensively you should be interested to know how the other half consumes provisions. And if you belong to the half to whom waiters' checks are things of moment, you should know Bogle's, for there you get your money's worth--in quantity, at least.
Bogle's is situated1 in that highway of bourgeoisie, that boulevard of Brown-Jones-and-Robinson, Eighth Avenue. There are two rows of tables in the room, six in each row. On each table is a caster- stand, containing cruets of condiments2 and seasons. From the pepper cruet you may shake a cloud of something tasteless and melancholy3, like volcanic4 dust. From the salt cruet you may expect nothing. Though a man should extract a sanguinary stream from the pallid5 turnip6, yet wili his prowess be balked7 when he comes to wrest8 salt from Bogle's cruets. Also upon each table stands the counterfeit9 of that benign10 sauce made "from the recipe of a nobleman in India."
At the cashier's desk sits Bogle, cold, sordid11, slow, smouldering, and takes your money. Behind a mountain of toothpicks he makes your change, files your check, and ejects at you, like a toad12, a word about the weather. Beyond a corroboration13 of his meteorological statement you would better not venture. You are not Bogle's friend; you are a fed, transient customer, and you and he may not meet again until the blowing of Gabriel's dinner horn. So take your change and go--to the devil if you like.
There you have Bogle's sentiments.
The needs of Bogle's customers were supplied by two waitresses and a Voice. One of the waitresses was named Aileen. She was tall, beautiful, lively, gracious and learned in persiflage14. Her other name? There was no more necessity for another name at Bogle's than there was for finger-bowls.
The name of the other waitress was Tildy. Why do you suggest Matilda? Please listen this time--Tildy--Tildy. Tildy was dumpy, plain-faced, and too anxious to please to please. Repeat the last clause to yourself once or twice, and make the acquaintance of the duplicate infinite.
The Voice at Bogle's was invisible. It came from the kitchen, and did not shine in the way of originality15. It was a heathen Voice, and contented16 itself with vain repetitions of exclamations17 emitted by the waitresses concerning food.
Will it tire you to be told again that Aileen was beautiful? Had she donned a few hundred dollars' worth of clothes and joined the Easter parade, and had you seen her, you would have hastened to say so yourself.
The customers at Bogle's were her slaves. Six tables full she could wait upon at once. They who were in a hurry restrained their impatience18 for the joy of merely gazing upon her swiftly moving, graceful19 figure. They who had finished eating ate more that they might continue in the light of her smiles. Every man there--and they were mostly men--tried to make his impression upon her.
Aileen could successfully exchange repartee20 against a dozen at once. And every smile that she sent forth21 lodged22, like pellets from a scatter-gun, in as many hearts. And all this while she would be performing astounding23 feats24 with orders of pork and beans, pot roasts, ham-and, sausage-and-the-wheats, and any quantity of things on the iron and in the pan and straight up and on the side. With all this feasting and flirting25 and merry exchange of wit Bogle's came mighty26 near being a salon27, with Aileen for its Madame Recamier.
If the transients were entranced by the fascinating Aileen, the regulars were her adorers. There was much rivalry28 among many of the steady customers. Aileen could have had an engagement every evening. At least twice a week some one took her to a theatre or to a dance. One stout29 gentleman whom she and Tildy had privately30 christened "The Hog31" presented her with a turquoise32 ring. Another one known as "Fresby," who rode on the Traction33 Company's repair wagon34, was going to give her a poodle as soon as his brother got the hauling contract in the Ninth. And the man who always ate spareribs and spinach35 and said he was a stock broker36 asked her to go to "Parsifal" with him.
"I don't know where this place is," said Aileen while talking it over with Tildy, "but the wedding-ring's got to be on before I put a stitch into a travelling dress--ain't that right? Well, I guess!"
But, Tildy!
In steaming, chattering37, cabbage-scented Bogle's there was almost a heart tragedy. Tildy with the blunt nose, the hay-coloured hair, the freckled38 skin, the bag-o'-meal figure, had never had an admirer. Not a man followed her with his eyes when she went to and fro in the restaurant save now and then when they glared with the beast-hunger for food. None of them bantered39 her gaily40 to coquettish interchanges of wit. None of them loudly "jollied" her of mornings as they did Aileen, accusing her, when the eggs were slow in coming, of late hours in the company of envied swains. No one had ever given her a turquoise ring or invited her upon a voyage to mysterious, distant "Parsifal."
Tildy was a good waitress, and the men tolerated her. They who sat at her tables spoke41 to her briefly42. with quotations43 from the bill of fare; and then raised their voices in honeyed and otherwise-flavoured accents, eloquently44 addressed to the fair Aileen. They writhed45 in their chairs to gaze around and over the impending46 form of Tildy, that Aileen's pulchritude47 might season and make ambrosia48 of their bacon and eggs.
And Tildy was content to be the unwooed drudge49 if Aileen could receive the flattery and the homage50. The blunt nose was loyal to the short Grecian. She was Aileen's friend; and she was glad to see her rule hearts and wean the attention of men from smoking pot-pie and lemon meringue. But deep below our freckles51 and hay-coloured hair the unhandsomest of us dream of a prince or a princess, not vicarious, but coming to us alone.
There was a morning when Aileen tripped in to work with a slightly bruised52 eye; and Tildy's solicitude53 was almost enough to heal any optic.
"Fresh guy," explained Aileen, "last night as I was going home at Twenty-third and Sixth. Sashayed up, so he did, and made a break. I turned him down, cold, and he made a sneak54; but followed me down to Eighteenth, and tried his hot air again. Gee55! but I slapped him a good one, side of the face. Then he give me that eye. Does it look real awful, Til? I should hate that Mr. Nicholson should see it when he comes in for his tea and toast at ten."
Tildy listened to the adventure with breathless admiration56. No man had ever tried to follow her. She was safe abroad at any hour of the twenty-four. What bliss57 it must have been to have had a man follow one and black one's eye for love!
Among the customers at Bogle's was a young man named Seeders, who worked in a laundry office. Mr. Seeders was thin and had light hair, and appeared to have been recently rough-dried and starched58. He was too diffident to aspire59 to Aileen's notice; so he usually sat at one of Tildy's tables, where he devoted60 himself to silence and boiled weakfish.
One day when Mr. Seeders came in to dinner he had been drinking beer. There were only two or three customers in the restaurant. When Mr. Seeders had finished his weakfish he got up, put his arm around Tildy's waist, kissed her loudly and impudently61, walked out upon the street, snapped his fingers in the direction of the laundry, and hied himself to play pennies in the slot machines at the Amusement Arcade62.
For a few moments Tildy stood petrified63. Then she was aware of Aileen shaking at her an arch forefinger64, and saying:
"Why, Til, you naughty girl! Ain't you getting to be awful, Miss Slyboots! First thing I know you'll be stealing some of my fellows. I must keep an eye on you, my lady."
Another thing dawned upon Tildy's recovering wits. In a moment she had advanced from a hopeless, lowly admirer to be an Eve-sister of the potent65 Aileen. She herself was now a man-charmer, a mark for Cupid, a Sabine who must be coy when the Romans were at their banquet boards. Man had found her waist achievable and her lips desirable.
The sudden and amatory Seeders had, as it were, performed for her a miraculous66 piece of one-day laundry work. He had taken the sackcloth of her uncomeliness, had washed, dried, starched and ironed it, and returned it to her sheer embroidered67 lawn--the robe of Venus herself.
The freckles on Tildy's cheeks merged68 into a rosy69 flush. Now both Circe and Psyche70 peeped from her brightened eyes. Not even Aileen herself had been publicly embraced and kissed in the restaurant.
Tildy could not keep the delightful71 secret. When trade was slack she went and stood at Bogle's desk. Her eyes were shining; she tried not to let her words sound proud and boastful.
"A gentleman insulted me to-day," she said. "He hugged me around the waist and kissed me."
"That so?" said Bogle, cracking open his business armour72. "After this week you get a dollar a week more."
At the next regular meal when Tildy set food before customers with whom she had acquaintance she said to each of them modestly, as one whose merit needed no bolstering73:
"A gentleman insulted me to-day in the restaurant. He put his arm around my waist and kissed me."
The diners accepted the revelation in various ways--some incredulously, some with congratulations; others turned upon her the stream of badinage74 that had hitherto been directed at Aileen alone. And Tildy's heart swelled75 in her bosom76, for she saw at last the towers of Romance rise above the horizon of the grey plain in which she had for so long travelled.
For two days Mr. Seeders came not again. During that time Tildy established herself firmly as a woman to be wooed. She bought ribbons, and arranged her hair like Aileen's, and tightened77 her waist two inches. She had a thrilling but delightful fear that Mr. Seeders would rush in suddenly and shoot her with a pistol. He must have loved her desperately78; and impulsive79 lovers are always blindly jealous.
Even Aileen had not been shot at with a pistol. And then Tildy rather hoped that he would not shoot at her, for she was always loyal to Aileen; and she did not want to overshadow her friend.
At 4 o'clock on the afternoon of the third day Mr. Seeders came in. There were no customers at the tables. At the back end of the restaurant Tildy was refilling the mustard pots and Aileen was quartering pies. Mr. Seeders walked back to where they stood.
Tildy looked up and saw him, gasped80, and pressed the mustard spoon against her heart. A red hair-bow was in her hair; she wore Venus's Eighth Avenue badge, the blue bead81 necklace with the swinging silver symbolic82 heart.
Mr. Seeders was flushed and embarrassed. He plunged83 one hand into his hip84 pocket and the other into a fresh pumpkin85 pie.
"Miss Tildy," said he, "I want to apologise for what I done the other evenin'. Tell you the truth, I was pretty well tanked up or I wouldn't of done it. I wouldn't do no lady that a-way when I was sober. So I hope, Miss Tildy, you'll accept my 'pology, and believe that I wouldn't of done it if I'd known what I was doin' and hadn't of been drunk."
With this handsome plea Mr. Seeders backed away, and departed, feeling that reparation had been made.
But behind the convenient screen Tildy had thrown herself flat upon a table among the butter chips and the coffee cups, and was sobbing86 her heart out--out and back again to the grey plain wherein travel they with blunt noses and hay-coloured hair. From her knot she had torn the red hair-bow and cast it upon the floor. Seeders she despised utterly87; she had but taken his kiss as that of a pioneer and prophetic prince who might have set the clocks going and the pages to running in fairyland. But the kiss had been maudlin88 and unmeant; the court had not stirred at the false alarm; she must forevermore remain the Sleeping Beauty.
Yet not all was lost. Aileen's arm was around her; and Tildy's red hand groped among the butter chips till it found the warm clasp of her friend's.
"Don't you fret89, Til," said Aileen, who did not understand entirely90. "That turnip-faced little clothespin of a Seeders ain't worth it. He ain't anything of a gentleman or he wouldn't ever of apologised."
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situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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condiments
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| n.调味品 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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volcanic
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| adj.火山的；象火山的；由火山引起的 | |
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pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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turnip
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| n.萝卜，芜菁 | |
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balked
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| v.畏缩不前，犹豫( balk的过去式和过去分词 )；（指马）不肯跑 | |
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wrest
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| n.扭，拧，猛夺；v.夺取，猛扭，歪曲 | |
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counterfeit
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| vt.伪造，仿造；adj.伪造的，假冒的 | |
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benign
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| adj.善良的，慈祥的；良性的，无危险的 | |
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sordid
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| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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toad
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| n.蟾蜍，癞蛤蟆 | |
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corroboration
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| n.进一步的证实，进一步的证据 | |
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persiflage
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| n.戏弄；挖苦 | |
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originality
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| n.创造力，独创性；新颖 | |
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contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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exclamations
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| n.呼喊( exclamation的名词复数 )；感叹；感叹语；感叹词 | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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repartee
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| n.机敏的应答 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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lodged
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| v.存放( lodge的过去式和过去分词 )；暂住；埋入；（权利、权威等）归属 | |
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astounding
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| adj.使人震惊的vt.使震惊，使大吃一惊astound的现在分词) | |
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feats
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| 功绩，伟业，技艺( feat的名词复数 ) | |
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flirting
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| v.调情，打情骂俏( flirt的现在分词 ) | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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salon
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| n.[法]沙龙；客厅；营业性的高级服务室 | |
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rivalry
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| n.竞争，竞赛，对抗 | |
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privately
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| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
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hog
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| n.猪；馋嘴贪吃的人；vt.把…占为己有，独占 | |
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turquoise
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| n.绿宝石；adj.蓝绿色的 | |
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traction
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| n.牵引；附着摩擦力 | |
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wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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spinach
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| n.菠菜 | |
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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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chattering
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| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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freckled
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| adj.雀斑；斑点；晒斑；（使）生雀斑v.雀斑，斑点( freckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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bantered
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| v.开玩笑，说笑，逗乐( banter的过去式和过去分词 )；（善意地）取笑，逗弄 | |
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gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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quotations
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| n.引用( quotation的名词复数 )；[商业]行情（报告）；（货物或股票的）市价；时价 | |
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eloquently
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| adv. 雄辩地(有口才地, 富于表情地) | |
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writhed
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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impending
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| a.imminent, about to come or happen | |
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pulchritude
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| n.美丽 | |
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ambrosia
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| n.神的食物；蜂食 | |
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drudge
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| n.劳碌的人；v.做苦工，操劳 | |
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homage
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| n.尊敬，敬意，崇敬 | |
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freckles
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| n.雀斑，斑点( freckle的名词复数 ) | |
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bruised
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| [医]青肿的，瘀紫的 | |
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solicitude
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| n.焦虑 | |
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sneak
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| vt.潜行(隐藏,填石缝)；偷偷摸摸做；n.潜行；adj.暗中进行 | |
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gee
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| n.马；int.向右！前进！，惊讶时所发声音；v.向右转 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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bliss
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| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
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starched
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| adj.浆硬的，硬挺的，拘泥刻板的v.把（衣服、床单等）浆一浆( starch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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aspire
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| vi.(to，after)渴望，追求，有志于 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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impudently
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arcade
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| n.拱廊；(一侧或两侧有商店的)通道 | |
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petrified
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| adj.惊呆的；目瞪口呆的v.使吓呆，使惊呆；变僵硬；使石化(petrify的过去式和过去分词) | |
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forefinger
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| n.食指 | |
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potent
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| adj.强有力的，有权势的；有效力的 | |
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miraculous
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| adj.像奇迹一样的，不可思议的 | |
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embroidered
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| adj．绣花的 | |
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merged
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| （使）混合( merge的过去式和过去分词 )； 相融； 融入； 渐渐消失在某物中 | |
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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psyche
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| n.精神；灵魂 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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armour
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| （=armor）n.盔甲；装甲部队 | |
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bolstering
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| v.支持( bolster的现在分词 )；支撑；给予必要的支持；援助 | |
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badinage
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| n.开玩笑，打趣 | |
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swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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tightened
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| 收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
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desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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impulsive
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| adj.冲动的，刺激的；有推动力的 | |
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80
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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81
bead
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| n.念珠；(pl.)珠子项链；水珠 | |
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82
symbolic
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| adj.象征性的，符号的，象征主义的 | |
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83
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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84
hip
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| n.臀部，髋；屋脊 | |
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85
pumpkin
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| n.南瓜 | |
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86
sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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87
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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88
maudlin
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| adj.感情脆弱的，爱哭的 | |
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89
fret
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| v.(使)烦恼；(使)焦急；(使)腐蚀，(使)磨损 | |
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90
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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