From this it was only a step to
speaking of Brooklyn. The secretary explained that the club had
outlined a careful itinerary in that borough for proximate pursuit.
Lawton told that he had at one time written an essay on the effect
of Brooklyn on the dialogue of the American drama. "It is the butt
end of Long Island," he cried, with cruel mirth. Lovers of Brooklyn
in the club nearly blackballed him for this.
With ice cream and cottage pudding, the admirable menu proceeded.
The waiters conferred secretly together. They carefully noted the
cheerful carving of the host's brow. They will know him again. A man
who bursts in suddenly upon a railroad lunch counter and pays for
three such meals, here is an event in the grim routine! But perhaps
the two charter members were feeling pangs of conscience. "Come,"
they said, "at least let us split the ginger ale checks." But
Lawton was seeing it through. Not a drum was heard, not a funeral
note, as our host to the cashier we hurried. The secretary bought a
penny box of matches and lit the great man's cigarette for him.
Endymion, equally stirred, ran to buy the ferry tickets for the
return voyage. "This time," he said, "I will be the ferry
godmother."
On the homeward passage a little drowse fell upon the two charter
members. They had lunched more richly than was their wont. "Oh,
these distressing, heavy lunches!" as Aldous Huxley cries in one of
his poems.
Pages:
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55