"Coffee like mother used to make," read one. Impertinently intimate
this, professing a familiarity with one's people that would never do
with us. "Try our Boston Baked Beans," pleaded another, quite
abjectly. And several others quite indelicately stated the prices at
which different dishes might be had: "Irish Stew, 25 cents";
"Philadelphia Capon, 35 cents"; "Fried Chicken, Maryland, 50 cents";
"New York Fancy Broil, 40 cents." Indeed the poor chap seemed to have
been possessed by a geographical mania, finding it difficult to submit
the simplest viands without crediting them to distant towns or
provinces.
Upon Cousin Egbert's remarking that these bedizened placards would
"come in handy," I took pains to explain to him just how different the
United States Grill would be. The walls would be done in deep red; the
floor would be covered with a heavy Turkey carpet of the same tone;
the present crude electric lighting fixtures must be replaced with
indirect lighting from the ceiling and electric candlesticks for the
tables. The latter would be massive and of stained oak, my general
colour-scheme being red and brown. The chairs would be of the same
style, comfortable chairs in which patrons would be tempted to linger.
The windows would be heavily draped.
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