[CHAPTER III]
THE HOLBORN
The American Comedian and myself stood at a club window and looked out on London. He was rehearsing, and so enjoyed the rare privilege of having his evenings free to spend as he liked. I had no business, except to get myself a dinner somewhere, so we agreed to eat ours in company.
The difficulty was to decide where to dine. The Comedian dined at one club or another every day of his life before going to the theatre, so a club dinner was out of the question. Not having a lady to take out we agreed that we did not care to go to any of the "smart" restaurants: we wanted something a little more elaborate than a grill-room would give us, and more amusing company than we were likely to find at the smaller dining places we knew of.
I think that the suggestion to dine at the cheap table d'hôte dinner at one of the very large restaurants, to listen to the music, and look at the people dining, came from me. Our minds made up on this point, there was the difficulty of selecting the restaurant, so we agreed to toss up, and the spin of the coin eventually settled upon the Holborn Restaurant.
In the many-coloured marble hall, with its marble staircase springing from either side, a well-favoured gentleman with a close-clipped grey beard was standing, a sheet of paper in his hand, and waved us towards a marble portico, through which we passed to the grand saloon with its three galleries supported by marble pillars. "A table for two," said a maître d'hôtel, and we were soon seated at a little table near the centre of the room, at which a waiter in dress clothes, with a white metal number at his buttonhole and a pencil behind his ear, was in attendance waiting for orders. The table d'hôte dinner was what we required, and then I noticed that I had to ask for the wine list, and that it was not given me opened at the champagnes, as is usually the custom of waiters.
The menu, which on a large sheet of stiff paper peeps out from a deep border of advertisements, is printed both in French and in English. This is the English side of it on the night we dined:—
SOUPS.
Purée of Hare aux croûtons.
Spaghetti.
FISH.
Suprême of Sole Joinville.
Plain Potatoes.
Darne de saumon. Rémoulade Sauce.
ENTRÉES.
Bouchées à l'Impératrice.
Sauté Potatoes.
Mutton Cutlets à la Reforme.
REMOVE.
Ribs of Beef and Horseradish.
Brussels Sprouts.
ROAST.
Chicken and York Ham.
Chipped Potatoes.
SWEETS.
Caroline Pudding. St. Honoré Cake.
Kirsch Jelly.
ICE.
Neapolitan.
Cheese. Celery.
DESSERT.
We agreed to drink claret, and I picked out a wine third or fourth down on the list.
The Comedian said he was hungry, and I told him that I was glad to hear it, for it might check the miraculous tales which he generally produces at meal-times.