The Birmingham age-herald., 1912-01-26
LONDON IN SHADOW TIME

From the London Graphic
 TSHEY are of the night time, the
 shadow time. these curbstone
 A hotels, called coffee stalls by an un- romantic world. They belong to the cloaked and hooded hours when the world stretches itself after a comfortable din- ner, when the worker draws his chair to the fire, when odd shuffling shapes creep along the curb, their eyes ever down east To the night. and to those whom the night shelters and shields coffee stalls belong by right of association.
 To palace a coffee stall may be refuse, but to refuse 1t is a palace-a palace where shining paraffin lamps cast a com forting glow on the pavement, where stacks of plum bespattered cake and piles of sandwiches make the absence of a penny a thing of shame. Through rain bow hued windows the passerby sees the announcement of tea, coffee or cocoa. Tantalizing, the words seem to taunt him, for the coffee stall holds just enough warmth, just enough comfort to make the vagabonds wish for more. An elbow may rest on the counter, while eyes tired of the darkness feast on the light of the coffee stall. Quite a long time may be spent over the consumption of a penny cup of coffee or a sandwich. Time enough to talk, time enough to jest, in grim, unsmiling way. Time enough, too, to watch the busy vender serving out warmth and comfort and receiving the coin that represents the difference be- tween rich and poor.
 Though the food and associations of modern coffee stalls may be coarse and growing coarser, they still retain a fras- ment of open air cleanliness and romance. Somebody once said that evil was hard to breed under the open sky. It is within four walls, sapped and stifled by the viti- ated atmosphere of overcivilization. that evil hourishes. Why is 1t that workers in the open, rough and profane though they may be, get nearer nature and are finer men than city slaves? Only because they are of the open air. and live so near to real things. realizing daily the force and mystery of creation.
 There are many vagrants wandering the streets who would rather stand by cof- fee stall at a windy corner than sit hud- dled in some cheap eating house. Fhe money spent is neither more nor less. but the association makes all the difference. There is something of gypsy life, of vaga- bondage, surrounding the coffee stall. And so 1t makes its strongest appeal to those with something fine and primitive still lurking in natures warped by the world.
 Food in the open tastes better than any house meal. Picnics have a fascination for all grades and sections of society. And the coffee stall offers a perpetual picnic to those who can pay the necessary toll It may not Imply lobster mayonnaise and champagne, with an expensive cigarette to follow, or the laughable descent of weird insects into coffee cups. But Il Is an everlasting picnic, none the less Some of the picnickers have ceased to re- member anything else. anything better The time has passed when an echo or con vention whispered to their numbed .brains that it is usual to return home after a picni. Perhaps that is just as well, since home is a negligible quantity to them
 A opffee stall and it's merchandise plant ed h heath a roof would be the most hopeJ .ssly prosaic and sordid creaeion The food would become merely unpal- atabI 3, the drink anything but appetizing and ihe associations painful past bearing Rut t.n the roadway with lightA running to anu from it like string of gems. with