Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1911-07-16

keeper there has come look Of
grief, and he dances in I'M
~ spoken anguish. The unmistak-
able stamp of care has furrowed
the forehead of him who deals In sand
witches and pies. and the keeper of the
dainty teahouse sheds bitter, briny tears
as she languishes in the rear of the es-
Establishment. All are searching-search-
ing with a perseverance worthy Of Parsi-
fa1-for that new sublime food which will
gladden. the palates of the public and
persuade them. if only for a moment, to
cease their unending vail.
For, with the arrival of the summer
months of sitting heat and molten as
phalt and breezes that scorch like a
furnace blast. the public Of the National
Capital ceases to be gastronomically nor
NAL. Any restaurant keeper will tell you
so. The fattened person who in December
gorged himself with mutton chops and
mince pie wanders despairingly in, looks
around the place. signs deeply and goes
out The hectic citizen picks up the
menu. thinks he will have an omelette.
decides an omelette is too hot. orders ham
sandwiches, objects to the ham, and
finally strolls out after having inspired an
ambition toward suicide in the waiter
who has been listening to his multifarious
protest.
at is too hot to eat" they universally
protest. Cant you give me something
cool?'
ice cream" urges the waiter, nobly
restraining a desire to throw dishes.
That only makes US feel worse after
ward" they wall.
why not crabs?' suggests the waiter.
Don't they give you hives?" is the next
question.
This invariably results in a warm de-
bate, during which the patron refers to
fifty-seven medical books to prove the
relationship Of crabs to hives, and the
waiter offers himself as exhibit A in the
negative.
Then why not steak?" suggests the
waiter at last
This is unfortunate.
"Thundering moons bellows the pa
tron. What do you think 1 ann"
Occasionally the waiter. who by this
time is exhibiting preliminary symptoms
of nervous prostration. tells the patron
in few terse, we'll chosen words just
what he does think Of him, and the pa
iron marches Indignantly out. More fire.
quently the waiter Gains him and pours
iced tea into his quivering system.
Cajoling the lunch-stricken public into
eating when it doesn't want to eat has
become an art with lunchroom pronrie-
tors-a science over which they sAend
many long and weary evenings. If any
special dish is found to be a success or
even partial success. 1t is Immediately
accepted as law and gospel by rival es-
adjustments. Take, for instance, the
sion 1Onp q whan dairy
lunch proprietor struck the golden
thought Of rice pudding.
Now, considered in the solid light of
reason. rice pudding is not SO much. 1t
tation and gaudy display For this very
reason the tired public fell upon its neck
and welcomed it as the king Of foods.
The lunchroom proprietor sold pan after
pan of rice pudding. Receipts sprang up
and business was rushing. Then the
other proprietors. who had been enviously
watching. began to plagiarize. Rice pud-
ding became as general as the music
you take home and try over on your
piano.
And then the public, the heat-distracted
public. became weary of this subtle food.
forsook it in search of something new,
and allowed it to take it's mournful place
among the neglected staples of the sweet
summer time.
X
From this and similar instances the
lunchroom proprietors have garnered tenn
porary harvests Of small change. There
is the noted case Of pie a la mode-a
marvellous combination of ice cream and
pastry. Or the historic Lillian RUSSELL
composed of ice cream and canteloupe,
which so firmly established itself several
years ago. might be referred to. All Of
which only relieves the situation tenn
porarily.