The Washington herald., 1909-10-17

II you feel that you need a vacation
and yet hate TO part with much Of your
hard earned money. you might emulate a
friend Of the writer who had the time
Of his life on the Bowery in New York
for S1-bo OF course, your railroad fare
would be extra, but once you arrived
at the Grand Central station you can
have rip roaring, roistering period Of
three days away from the cares OF busI-
ness for $50; and mind you. there won't
be anything selfish about It, either.
You can roll around like prince, eat
Ing your three full meals a day. sleeping
by a window at night, playing pool or
billiards when you please. smoking and
yes, drinking bit. too. If you choose,
you can VISIT a theater every night
getting your daily shave and topping it
or with shampoo and massage, and
still have enough to send vacation pos
tails to your family and friends. and
enough to hand lifts to panhandlers
and TO tip waiters-and all for S1.50. Saws
the Cleveland Plain Dealer.
II you would like to know how to do
It. no matter whether you contemplate
attempting it or not. here is the way:
Immediately upon your arrival at the
Grand Central station in the morning.
take the Third or elevated for the Bow
cry. about Canal street. There you will
find the Evergreen Hotel where YOU can
rent your apartment" You'll be able
10 get one at this season for 10 cents
night facing the avenue-that is the
Bowery. There won't be any bevelled
edges mirrors. telephones, brass bath
tubs and so forth, but you will get a
place to sleep. Register your full name
and Cleveland as your home, and au-
nounce a three days visit. That's 30
cents gone.
II the stains OF travel have not been
removed, take bath-no one cares.
There is a public bath tub In the hotel
and you'll have no trouble in getting Il
exclusively. This dOne-it Will be about
nOon-stroll down the steel covered steps
Of the hotel and drop in the next
door. great sign reads Best Meal IN
the City-5 cents"
Everything Severely Plain.
A great barraok-like interior, rudeIy
furnished with tables" which look like
a section Of a country baseball stand.
stretches back 100 feet No pictures
adOrn the wall. Everything is plain
Eight great cards-the menu-are nailed
70 the wall. You see what you want at.
once.
"One upr' and you whlrl about. You
would suspect the little man behind the
counter was a bartender
Three more up-that's fouri Hash.
double il! Make II over againl"
Not a sound answers these short. quick
mathematical yelps from the front Of the
shop. No one speaks. the subdued whis-
per Of the patron through the broken
glass window being scarcely audible.
Then you look around On the wall you
read:
Hamburger, Holbrau. Bread and Cof-
fees Cents"
sole Victoria. Bowl Coffee and Bread
-5 Cents"
Liver. fried a Ia Del. Coffee and
Breads Cents"
Hash and Beans. Boston or Chicago
) Cents"
Bowl Mothers Coffee and Fine Dough-
NUTS Cents"
No Napkins or FinEerbOvIs.
Here surely is food and choice. And
Il comes from a canvas inclosed kitchen.
steaming hot and served by a waiter in
an apron! Knives, fork. spoon, coffee
and bread are placed with the meal"
but the napkins are necessarily over
looked IN the rush, and there are no fin
gerbowls.
One thousand Boweryites feed here
every day. The furnishings are boards
nailed TO resemble tables and chairs.
Over the table is nailed an oilcloth.
There's no heat but you don't care. A
dismantled stove is near the cashiers
min aTrrr~ hrrs
Gsver speaks to his customers. They
return the compliment. He doesn't look
for tips He works swiftly and effective
ly, serving hundreds and making no
noise. excepting that Of his heavy shod
boots tramping between the rude tables
and the Kitchen"
Then you join the spectral figures, eat
Ing peacefully, almost motionless You
purchase enough meal tickets to last
three days and sally forth. the inner
man satisfied. That's IS cents more gone.
Downstairs Is the barber-his sign SAYS
so. He'll trim your whiskers or shave
'em of for cents, and toss in a sham-
poo and massage for 5 cents more II
you're extravagant, and don't mind get
ting your face full Of glass and clinkers
That's fully "a cents more gone. You
don't tip the barbcr-he'd drop dead. Re
freshed, II alive your mind on pleasure
bent turns to the theater. Another door
away and you find the Hamlet" with
choice vaudeville bill and all the lat
est songs and dances''-by graphophone.
Three nights OF this--fOr yOu must be a
sport and go TO the show every night
adds up Is cents more.
Drinks at Cut Rntes.
Next day you repeat the eating and
sleeping process and get acquainted with
the bartender down stairs. and he whis-
pers that guests are in on ten drinks
for-16-cents basis. You can fan for that
inducement easily. 1t surely win helm
you enjoy the respite from Office cares.
Then there are cigars-small, stoeie
like ropes. but they're cigars and you
get eight for 4 cents. You can't smoke
more than eight in three days, so don't
buy more. That's probably 10 cents more
spent in dissipation.
Then you remember that you're enjoy
ing yourself and you hand out tips" to
five panhandlers. who dope you out as
Summer" Your five acts Of philan-
thropy aggregates cents-then the buns
know you're not Andrew Carnegie in
disguise OF course, force OF habit pre-
vents you from leaving the unclubly
waiter, who never gets an order mixed
or suggests a plate. because you give
your order as you enter, and the waiter
almosts has IL at your hand when you
sit down.
Anyhow, you're too generous TO forget
him, and there's cents. He gets II.
You sit about for half an hour and il
costs you 10 cents 70 play some pool
Then you find your bank account gone,
and your credit threatened and you leave
Tor the Grand Central depot It's not a