the innocent wine-shops of South Fifth Avenue, such
as the Brasserie Pigault, which Bunner introduced to the readers of "The
Midge" with a quaint conceit. The sign of the little cafe from without
read: "A LA VILLE DE ROUEN. J. PIGAULT. LAGER BEER. FINE WINES AND
LIQUEURS." But its regular patrons knew it best from within, from
the warm tables they liked to scan the letters backward, against the
glass that protected them from the winter's night. It was a quaint
haunt, where gathered Doctor Peters and Father Dube, and Parker Prout,
the old artist who had failed in life because of too much talent, and M.
Martin, and the venerable Potain, who had lost his mind after his wife's
death, and Ovide Marie, the curly-haired musician from Amity Street.

But the prize exhibit, the _piece de resistance_ of that old Bohemia of
the French Quarter to the south of Washington Square was the Restaurant
du Grand Vatel in Bleecker Street. Not only the French strugglers, but
American artists and authors in embryo used to dine there substantially
and economically. As Mr. Rideing described it: "The floor is sanded, and
the little tables are covered with oil-cloth, each having a pewter cruet
in the centre. A placard flutters from the wall, announcing a grand
festival, banquet, ball, and artistic tombola in celebration of the
eighth anniversary of the bloody revolution of March 18, 1871, under the
auspices of the 'Societe des Refugies de la Commune'--'Family tickets,
twenty-five cents, hat-room checks, ten cents'--from which we gather
that the 'Restaurant du Grand Vatel' has some queer patrons. The
landlady sits behind a little desk in the corner. She is a woman of
enormous girth, with short petticoats which reveal her thick, white
woolen socks; her complexion is dark, her eyes are black and deep, and
large golden rings dangle from her ears."

The regular patrons begin to come in. The poor professor, after his
unprofitable labours of the day, enters, and bows to the landlady, who
is cordial or severe in her greeting according to the items on the
little slate which records her accounts. He begins his meal. "He has
_soupe aux croutons_, _veau a la Marengo_, _pommes frites_, a small
portion of _Gruyere_, and a bottle of wine. He eats appreciatively after
the manner of a _bon vivant;_ he uses his napkin gently and frequently;
he glances blandly at the surroundings; watching him, you would suppose
the viands were the choicest of the season, exquisite