In most colonial towns you may find out restaurants where for ‘a square meal’ you may have the melancholic pleasure of ‘bang went saxpence.’ For the curious Epicurean here is the menu presented to me by the beaming proprietor of one of these enterprising restaurants. The dining saloon, which really deserved its name, was occupied by large tables covered in spotless cloths, on which were spread in readiness for dinner the usual appointments. The display of flowers and plated forks and spoons and the notes of an orchestra playing popular tunes were sufficient to make one wish one’s own dinner hour was at hand. A man, woman, or child might have each and all of –
The only bargain made by the proprietor being that the diner should be able to remove himself from his seat by his own unaided muscular exertions.