Salt Lake evening Democrat. [volume] (Salt Lake City, Utah) 1885-1887, 1885-11-03
FEATURES OF THE COCKTAIL.
Those Who Gulp 1t During the
Morning Hours and How They
Gulp 1t.

There is an unspoken apology in the
voice of the man who calls for drink in
tue morning. He never looks the bar
tender in the eye. Bold he may be in the
afternoon, and brave as mother-in-law
when the shades of evening have fallen,
but in the early morning hours there is a
sneaking air about the way he calls for a
cocktail that inclines the white aproned
servitor to be familiar and to bully him.
He doesn't lock arms with boon COM
panion and JOLLY call for his favorite
beverage with that air of proprietorship
in the premises that rings through his
talk in the afternoon. He doesn't give
minute directions as to just the right
amount of lemon and suggestion of
| more sugar that characterizes him at
night. He sneaks in, asks meekly for a
cocktail, submits to being charged too
much for it, and tries to glide out looking
unconscious all the while. But still every
class does take its morning drink in spite
of warning footsteps in the sands of the
bar that tell how other good men have
gone before. 1t is a peculiarly American
custom.
The man who has taken morning
drink every day for years and years is the
5 O'Clock drinker. Sometimes they
shorten this and call him tramp But
the terms are synonymous and reading
interchangeable. He sleeps behind the
barrels outside the door, is reused up be-
fore daylight by kick, and sweeps out
in a sleepy sort of way for drink that
is poured out for him. This is the Bowery
saloon, of course.
Even Bowery saloons have side doors
as naturally as policeman has morn
ing appetite, and the side door is as easy
to find as girls lips in the dark. The
policeman is the only patron that takes
the trouble to rumble at the Sunday door
on week day. He doesn't look ashamed,
because unlike other morning drinkers,
he does not have to call for his particular
vanity. Of course if you do not call for
drink you need not pay for it. He holds
up two lordly fingers and the minion be-
hind the bar brings something in glass,
there is an authoritative gurgle and all is
still except distant clock that marks
the successful effort by striking the lucky
number Z.
An hour later truck-driver comes
boldly in at the front door. He is boss of
his ward. There was primary meeting
down at Flannagan's last night, he tells
the saloon man, and his head feels little
queer this morning. Better mix some
thing for him to keep the reins steady in
his hands. So little of the red liquor
goes into glass and the horses outside
wonder why they have to work SO niue.
harder that day 1t is only Just be-
fore the election that he does that sort of
thing.
The o'clock drinker is usually clerk,
and he takes his medicine in a down town
saloon. "Gimme cocktail-plenty bit
ters," he says, as he fishes out quarter
from mass of pennies, dollar bills and |
he finds jumbled together |
in his pocket. 81 haven't had any break
FAST" he apologies with nervous laugh,
"and Pm late at the office, too. Went |
out with some of the boys last night and /
feel doosid stoopid this morning. Guess
the cocktail will straighten me out" and
chewing the lemon peel he goes on his
way.
Even solid men sometimes do not enjoy |
their breakfasts, and swear little at the
cook and come down town without eating
much Such an one is the well known
business man. He says carelessly to his
chief clerk that he guesses he will step
out and get another paper, or something
of the kind, and next minute he stands
before big mirror looking at the reflec-
ton of prosperous merchant taking
10 o'clock cocktail all alone. 1t is sad
sight and he hurries back to the Office
with sorrow in his heart, and lemon-peel
in his mouth.
The young man who can afford to wear
l. .v1, Il off TO oly
his matutinal drink as late as II o'clock.
He doesn't have to bear the scrutinizing
gaze of beastly bartender. His valet
knows what he wants, and brings it be-
fore he is fairly awake. And the gilded
youth gulps it down, drops back on the
pillow and dreams that he is a giraffe,
with throat as long as the North river,
down which an endless cascade of cock
tail is gloriously fowing.-New York
World.