On the street he passed a window where a big negro was cooking griddle-cakes, dressed in a snowy apron and a paper cap. He looked so clean and wholesome that Bradley decided upon getting his breakfast there, and going in, took his seat at one of the little tables. A colored boy came up briskly.
"I'd like some of those cakes," said Bradley, to whom all this was very new.
"Brown the wheats!" yelled the boy, and added in a low voice, "Buckwheat or batter?"
"Buckwheat, I guess."
"Make it bucks!" the boy yelled, by the way of correction, and asked again in a low voice, "Coffee?"
"If you please."
"One up light."
While Bradley was eating his cakes, which were excellent, others came in, and the waiters dashed to and fro, shouting their weird orders.
"Ham and, two up coff, a pair, boot-leg, white wings."
Bradley had a curiosity to see what this order would bring forth, and, watching carefully, found that it secured ham and eggs, two cups of coffee, a beefsteak, and an omelet. He was deeply interested in the discovery.