l.

Caspar Weinpusslacher called in person. He asked, reproachfully:

"How it comes, Mr. Rutchers, that your best friend--"

"Weinie," interrupted H. R., "this will cost you two thousand five
hundred tickets for your thirty-cent meal. You are put down as one of
the best three restaurateurs, together with Perry's and the
Robespierre."

"But say, Mr. Rutchers, two thousand five hundred--" began Weinie,
trying to look angry at the extortion. He was rich now; he was even one
of the sights of New York.

"Three thousand! That's what your haggling has done," cut in H. R., with
the cold determination that made him so formidable.

"All right!" And Caspar ran out of the room. A terrible man, this. But
Frau Weinpusslacher would be in society now.

"I trust you will not be misled by _newspaper scientists_ into fool
dietetics," wrote McAppen Dix, M.D., the hygiene expert of an afternoon
paper.

H. R. promptly stopped reading the letters and told one of his
stenographers, "Reply to all telephone inquiries that the personnel of
the commission has not yet been definitely decided upon."

The three highest-salaried chefs in New York, their emoluments duly
quadrupled by the reporters after eating sample ideal luncheons, the
three best restaurateurs, and the three leading experts on stomachic
functions had their names printed as "Probable Public Menu Commission"
by the afternoon prints.

Doubtless in order not to be accused of plagiarism each afternoon paper
published a different set of names. Tentative menus also were given, to
be repudiated by H. R. and by indignant competitors in the next
morning's papers.

That is how, in its glorious march to charity, all New York began to
take an interest in menus. It was the first symptom of an awakened civic
conscience and intelligent humanitarianism. "Tell me what you eat and I
will tell you what you are," long ago observed Brillat-Savarin. H. R.
wrote it for the reporters. It furnished the text for learned editorial
sermons.

When Andrew Barrett ventured to express his admiration, H. R. murmured:

"Plausible, persistent, and picturesque."

"I don't quite get you," said Barrett.

"Watch me and learn," retorted H. R.

Other men have disregarded persistence, but H. R. did not. He kept up
the firing; no broadside, but one big gun at a time--once a day. As a
result, the H. R. plan for feeding the hungry of New York assumed a
serious aspect. The right bill of fare would change pote