ly prepared, while,
in reality, they are poor and unsubstantial stuff, the refuse, perhaps,
of better restaurants. Having finished the edibles, he calls for a
'gloria,' that is, black coffee and cognac; and, sipping this, he
communes with his fancies which come and vanish in the blue waves of
cigarette smoke. His aspect bespeaks perfect complacency--Fate cannot
harm me; I have dined today."

To Mr. Rideing we are indebted for certain items indicating the very
moderate scale of prices at the Restaurant du Grand Vatel. Outside there
was a sign that read: _"Tous les plats,_ eight cents; _plats extra
varies; cafe superieur,_ three cents; _cafe au lait,_ five cents." Here
is a list of some of the dishes and their cost: Soup and a plate of beef
and bread, ten cents; _soupe aux croutons_, five cents; _boeuf_,
_legumes_, ten cents; _veau a la Marengo_, twelve cents; _mouton a
Ravigotte_, ten cents; _ragout de mouton aux pommes_, eight cents;
_boeuf braise aux oignons_, ten cents; _macaroni au gratin_, six cents;
_celeri salade_, six cents; _compote de pommes_, four cents; _fromage
Neufchatel_, three cents; _Limbourg_, four cents; _Gruyere_, three
cents; bread, one cent. Thus, Mr. Rideing figured out, the professor's
dinner, wine included, cost him the sum of forty cents, and with five
cents added for a roll and a cup of coffee in the morning, his daily
expenditure for food was less than half a dollar.

The trails of Bohemia, or of pseudo-Bohemia, have never been so flaming
and flagrant as they are today. From that corner of the Avenue facing
the Arch cross the Square diagonally to the head of Washington Place. A
hundred yards to the west lies the Lane of the Mad Eccentrics. Two or
three years ago the little triangle of a park known as Sheridan Square
was surrounded by structures of red brick that dated from the days when
Greenwich Village preserved something of its proud individuality. Then a
plan of transformation, involving a new avenue, cleared a wide path with
the suddenness of a Kansas cyclone. Bits of the picturesque past went
tumbling down before the onslaught of the demolishers. But in various
nooks and corners that remained there sprang up bits of a picturesque
although probably ephemeral present.

It is easy to regard the Lane of the Mad Eccentrics from the point of
view of metropolitan sophistication; to dismiss the Vermilion Hound and
the Hell Hole and the Pirate's Den and the Purple Pup and Polly's as
clap-trap