The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1889-07-07

grave had said to begin today. am SO
eager to begin that it seems like an eter-
nifty till tomorrow. In the meantime I'll
look for lodgings. Tie Astor house is
rather expensive for reporter. l thank
you very much for your kindness, and
hope you'll never have reason to repent
it."
I'm sure 1 never shall, said Mr.. Spar,
shaking the young man by the hand.
Let me know how you are getting along.
Good luck to you"
The old doorkeeper fumbled for his
keys, and let Rush out into the ante
room again; and again he shook his head
deprecatingly as the young man ran
lightly down the winding stairs. Before
dinner time he had found very COM
Portable room with a French family in
West Eleventh street. Everything about
the place was neat as wax, and he bar
gained for a third story room looking
out into a pretty front yard-one of the
few in New York. The landlady, who
was pleased with his frank manner and
amused by his broken French, made
good arrangement with him, which in
cluded a cup of cafe au lait and roll in
the morning. His lunch and dinner he
would get wherever he happened to be.
A newspaper mans lunch is virtually his
breakfast, for if he does not get to bed
before half past 2 or in the morning
he is not likely to be up and out much
before noon.
After writing a few lines home to tell
his mother of his good luck Rush strolled
out into the street, crossed over to Union
square and sat down upon one of the
benches there to think over the situation.
To be sure, he had been at college for
two years, and had worked as an indie
pendent man on The Farmsted Free
Lance, but he had never felt the perfect
emancipation from all restraint that he
realized at this moment. At college he
was little more than school boy, and
on The Free Lance he had lived at home,
but now lie had cut adrift and was about
to set up for himself. With all his Ella
ton touch of home sickness came over
Elul, anu 1OI IL IIIOluCllJ llS leu Il WIFI
desire to take a late train and surprise
the folks at Farmsted Not, of course,
that he wanted to see them so much. but
they would be SO delighted to see him!
However, he gave up that idea and be-
came interested in looking at the people
around him until his country appetite
warned him that it was time to get some
thing to eat
He knew the principal streets and
hotels of New York, but he had only
general idea of the plan of the city, and
OF anything off the beaten track he
knew absolutely nothing, Setting cut
in quest of a restaurant. he walked down
Fourth avenue from Fourteenth street
until he came to place where a sign at
the door announced French and Italian
Restaurant. Table-d'hote dinner, with
wine, rs cents. Macaroni a specially"
Going up fight of stairs, he entered a
room at one end of which black eyed,
curly haired Italian sat at a desk max
ing change. On either side were rows
of little tables, between which dexterous
walters bearing aloft dishes of smoking
viands hurried to and fro. Rush Hurl-
stone was not man to be daunted by a
new experience When he was I'M
familiar with the ways of a place, he
took in the habits of its frequenters at
glance, and did as they did. 1t troubled
him for moment to know whether any
language except Italian was spoken, but,
remembering that many Italians speak
French, he was just about to hail a
waiter in the latter language, when the
man called out to him, in excellent Eng
lish:
''This way, sir, if you please"
Rush seated himself at one of the little
tables and took up a bill of fare, still
firmly believing that he would have to
give his orders in French; but before he
had made up his mind what he would
have dish of steaming> soup was laid
before him. This was followed by fish
and meat, and then a heaped up plate OF
macaroni with its savory sauce, topped
with Parmesan cheese. The only maca-
roni Rush had ever eaten before was the
sort best known in American country
towns, which is covered with slices of
cheese and baked in an oven. The Eng
fish call it cheese pudding" and serve
it after the salad. The Italian spaghetti
was new to him; but he saw an Italian
eating it at an opposite table and fol-
lowed his example with something of
the sensations of Sir Walter Raleigh
when he first lighted pipe of tobacco.
He wound the slippery ropes around his
fork and finally ate them with as much
enjoyment as if seventy-five cent dinners
in italian restaurants had made a part
of his every day life. Birds, salad,
cheese, fruit and coffee followed in easy
succession. Everything tasted good ex-
cept the wine, which was of the watered
California variety; and when he lighted
his cigar-young men did not smoke
cigarettes in those days as they do now
he felt that he had dined well.
Having plenty of time on his hands ne
called for The Evening Post, and when
he had read all the news he looked at his
watch and found that it was half past z.
He had thought it must be at least 8.
What could he do to kill time? Go to
the theatre. or, better, to the opera, if it
was an opera night, for if there was one
thing he loved above another it was
music. Turning to the advertising col
umns of The Post he found that it was
evidently gala night, for he read:
ENGAGEMENT EXTRAORDINARY