Richland beacon. [volume] (Rayville, La.) 1869-1890, 1873-08-09
How Evans Has Changed.

In one of Henry WattersOn's recent
letters to the Louisville Courier-Journal
he laments the growing licentiousness
of the British metropolis, and thus
pleasantly writes Of famous coffee
house: There once was, and there still
is, in this particular quarter of London,
famous coffee-house, which the old
wits and beaux were wont to visit, and
which Thackeray celebrated in the
second chapter of the Newcomes, known
as Evans. When ] first knew Evans
it was rough place, facing the market
without any show or ornamet whatever.
NV recollection is that no fee was
charged at the door. You entered
great old room hung round with old
portraits of old habitues, and furnished
with rough deal tables and chairs. The
bill of fare was limited. You got
chop and potato and a pewter OF ale;
nothing else. But these were peerless,
prepared and served in an Incompatible
way. You sat down at table; neatly
dressed waiter came and laid you nap
kin as white Is snow, and pewter plate
as shiny as silver, and knife and fork.
Then he went away and presently re-
turned with two little shiny pewter
globes, smoking hot, and Pewter
tankard. The air began to glow and
grow odorous. The globes parted /; in
one there was a chop and in the other
there was potato. The waiter caught
up the potato in q napkin, gave the
napkin twist and emptied bag Of
-four in your plate. He twirled the
tankard and out poured a stream of
foan,y amber. All the Vhile q droll,
Old-fashioned concert was going on, old
songs, old dances, old glees and old
choruses, with one moral, Be kind to
the weak and poor, be generous and be
jolly, eat heartily, sleep soundly, love
God and serve the king. Not chem
isette was to be SEEN There was one
place in London at least where a man
might be free and easy without having
to break the seventh commandment. A
more virtuous, q more upright and ele-
waiting, more uncouth, cleauly, primi-
tive and delightful entertainment could
not be devised. The other night, !
bethought me of Evans. So, making
my way out through the tobacco smoke
and strumpets of the Alhambra,
strolled down there, finding it without
any trouble, for a great flaring sign, in
glittering gas Jets, Evans" now illu'
inmates the entire market place. Pay.
ing my shilling at the door, I enteyed
to find not the jolly old deal board
commonplaces, the smoke-stained beams
and rafters, the old portraits, but 9
magnifcently furnished and frescoed
apartment, fitted up like cafe chantan
in the Champs Elysees, gorgeously
lighted, and quite as SPLENDID and I'M
natural as Bob Acres after his entrs
into polite society. The music, how
ever. proved to be unc" "anged and good
the chops still excellent, and, on the
whole, the evening passed of pleasantly
enough. But it was not Evans of old
The wire-covered boxes ranging round
the main hall were occupied, and
Lchancing to look innocently into one ot
them, 1 distinctly saw a young mar
kissing a young woman. Perhaps Il
was his sweetheart, but it was enough
to satisfy one that the glory of the
place has departed. Its glory was itl
LONELINESS and its geniality, its quaint
and hearty humor, its chops, potatoes
and ale. It was a place in which ont
could mellow and overflow about hi
mother, about his sister, and even abou
his wife and his mother-in-law. 1t wa
q place where a man felt himself to b.
safe. Women were not tadmitted. tioOt
ones did not care to go; and middle
aged gentlemen do not care for thi
other sort. But all that is set asi ie
and Evans is like the rest, mer
musical restaurant. Next year, I dar
say, the walters will wear short re-
frocks, and smirk and ogle like the bar
girls in the Haymarket.