The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1935-09-07
Cooked by Wood Fire

OOOkeu Dy hOOu flTe
The steaks were broiled on rack
set in a wood burning stove that had
been in use at the inn since 1875.
The stove was moved down in the
inn cellar for the Epicures' banquet.
Great kegs Of ale fianked the tables
Winter after winter. the Epicures
took their steak and ale in Anton
Millers cellar.
Eventually the inn was torn down
and the Millers moved to 40th-st.
The stove in which the steaks had
been brOiled was used for burning
shavings in the carpentry shop
But father really never forgot the
good steaks and ale cellar at the
inn Hans Miller said, plotting Mr.
Neale and myself down to the myS-
FERROUS depths of the 4Oth-st cave.
The start was proSaic enough;
plain heavy oak door on the other
side of the carpenter shop Office.
1t hasn't been opened in years"
said Mr. Miller. pressing against the
obstinate lock A wave of musty
air swept past us as the door swung
in.
Our candle lickered. You lead
the way" 1 said to Mr.. Miller.
NO, it's all right. You go first"
he said
The clatter of street noises. the
roar of the Third-av L" and the
friendly. cheerful sounds from the
carpenter shop of saving and ham,
mering grew faint and finally faded
away as We descended into the an
Cient cave.
When my eyes grew accustomed to
the ShadOwy, dubious half-light, 1
saw a low-ceilinged. hand-hewn,
beamed room. The stone walls we're
hung with Dutch pipe racks. old por-
traits and Revolutionary guns.
Wooden tables and chairs were
set on the Sand-strewn floor and di-
rectly in front of me. on the stair
rail, rose a grOteSque black figure.
Idol Bought Drinks
What's that?" I cried.
An African idol" Mr.. Miller said,
holding the candle close to the
image The Mariners Institute
was across from my grandfather's
inn. When the sailors couldn't pay
for their whisky in cash, they would
give whatever they'd brought back
for drinks. This idol represented a
good many SwigS of whisky"
Once the Miller family got settled
in the 4Oth-St home. Hans father
made the cave his hobby. He tun-
neled farther under the house, put
rough plankS on the dirt floor and
fitted cObblestones around the fire
place.
A couple of years after Anton Mil
Ter had closed his inn, an Epicure
drifted in the carpenter shop to
talk over steaks he remembered.
The old stove revived memories.
why couldn't we all meet again in
the carpenter shop for another steak
frye he begged.
What's the matter with the
cave?" asked w. S Miller. We'll
move the old stove down there!"
That was in 1897" Hans Miller
said. We've had great parties
herel William C. Whitney said it
was his favorite hideaway Boy! 1
remember those steaks myself"
L bought them" boosted Otto
Iockhart. Hans uncle. when we re-
Jurned to the Office. But those
days are gone. w S. is dead. The
old man is dead And we haven't
used the Dutch Cave in yearsi"
Occasionally. persons who have
heard of the cave call up and ask if
they can rent 1t for parties
"A woman phoned not long ago"
Hans Miller said. What was her
name, uncle?'
Mr. Lockhart looked thoughtful.
Z can't remember off-hand. She
wears diamonds and feather cos
tunes at the Beaux-ArtS Ball-oh, 1
know Mrs. Stanwood Menken-
said she wanted 10 give an unusual
party But We couldn't rent the
cave. It belongs to our family"