I suppose they make that candid announcement because it's anything but a pleasure to make way with what they serve there.
The other day when I dined there the waiter came round and asked:
"What are you going to have?"
"I guess a beefsteak—but see here, waiter, not a small one. I'm that nervous to-day every little thing upsets me."
"Pardon me for asking, sir," said the waiter, between the courses, "but what's made your eye black and blue? Perhaps you've been having a little affair with the gloves."
"Yes," I replied, carelessly; "I've been going through an operation at the hands of a knockulist, that's all."
Then I turned my attention to the roast chicken, which reminded me of another affair.
You shall hear it.