Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1906-02-18

moSphere, as We two Americans at once
thought of our theater.s at home.
We seated ourselves decorousIy in d size
pew, for the seats here are boxed In and
nave high backs suggestive of a church.
long table that might seat dozen was
before US and al the end of ii in the cor
rer was the picture of DR.. Johnson, whose
fame Is so closely connected with this old
place.
Beneath the painting sat group OF men
smoking over their whisky and soda, one
of them. the editor Of AN English ma ga
zine owned by an American: the other a
big blond essayist who is making people
think new thoughts. and the third, a
bright-eyed little man with rather wild
gray hair and soft necktie.
He looked Whistieresque and his accent
had a touch of Scotch to 1t that was fas-
cinatfng. We found later it was Herbert
Railton, one of LOndons cleverest archi-
tectural artists, who has an almost in
spired way of taking an old gateway or
an arch in some dingy lane and turning
ii, with the magic of his pen, into a fairy
doorway or palace entrance, so myst-
cally does his personal view of it endow
it with ltghtness and grace making iron
grating and rails delicate as the tracery
of a vine the touch fine as thread lace.
Were Railton to picture our American
cities how quickly we would begin to UNI
derstand the beauties of some of our
buildings that only~a few of us compre-
bend now and none of us as this man
would. Here is a distinct case of the art
list expressing himself rather than the
thing he draws.
We felt a little embarrassed at first. The
sex feminine rarely visits the Cheese al
this hour of the day. London women DC
not go there, but Americans never miss 1t;
these decorous. dignfed, absurdly decent
and deferential walters always understand
though and quickly put us at our ease.
VIC laaruaJ fltat we 1,ioI,t have hat
evening chops or steak with potatoes and
toasted cheese. On Saturdays there is a
| famous pudding served, pudding famous
| the world over; but it is a winter pudding
not tuned to May buds and arbutus
blooms.
| Ordinarily the fare is the simplest, and
| the story is told by George Augustus Snla,
| of one who once asked for boiled egg
"A heggi" exclaimed the walter; IF
| Halbert Hedward imself wur to come in
| ere, e couldn't ave hegg.
So we order chops, and the waiter serves
| us with one each. Informing us delicately
| that another is to follow. hot when the
| first is finished. Then there are potatoes
| with the skins on and bitter beer In pew
| ter tankards. Finally the cheese is
| brought on, and we feel as though we
| were in the third act of a play
| Now from the corner, the Scotch voice
| has begun TO inquire solicitously with
| apologies and queries as to the smoke-if
| II annoys us-if 1t can be endured, and. OF
| course, we know what we are expected to
reply.
And while we like his voice and his hair
we are Just a trihe timld until Ermen-
garde with grand throwing down of the
properties tells him the simple story OF
our lives.
I'VE are Americans She says, and she
SAYS it with an air. 1t at once explains
| our daring and our uneonventionality 1t
repeis criticism and also commands re-
spect Ermengarde Is really a very clever
girl.
Then we begin to hear the story of the
Cheese from this latter day group of
Cheesites all ardent In their cult, which
we find out is like that of Omar--those
who go there are bound in fellowship. 1t
is the haven where Artistic Londoners so
when they want to get away from Art
the purple cow, the sunfower and the soul
--all rife there now
So they drift to this old tayern-one of
that famous group the Cock. the Mitre, the
Bears Head and the Mermaid mentioned
often by the poets. who, so the stories go,
sat here at this very old table where now
we sit.
The list reads like hall of fame. Shakes