Evening star. [volume], March 19, 1916, Page 7, Image 53

About Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972

Image provided by: Library of Congress, Washington, DC

                
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THE Ol.n HEIXE HO*
AX old anrl well maintained r
brick house on the east side
7th street just north of Pa
road has often attracted the '<
tention of the Rambler, and no clou
many thousands of ether Washingtonia
have given this picturesque and old-fas
ioned place a glance and a thought. Th
house stood there when the great hig
way which i>asses l>efore it wan called t
7th street road or the 7th street pike,
name which was discarded in favor
"Brightwood avenue," and which nat
gave way to "Georgia avenue." The hou
is old. but the Rambler, in a spirit bo
of compliment and of truth, must si
that it still looks young. The Rambl
will not say of this house that "it do
not look its age." This is often said of
man. and perhaps sometimes of a woma
V.nt- t ho Pomhlor fools that thr-llD"b 1 Vl
observation may be prompted by tl
kindliest sentiment, yet it is a t-omp!
ment that has within it a bitter tan^.
The Rambler does not know to what ag
this house has attained. Its walls, i
rafters and its roof are sound, and. as
is often said that a man is no older thj
his arteries, it rnigtit just as fairly be sa
of a house that it is no older than i
walls and its roof. It may be that th
house, like so many old men, is proud 1
its a go, but the Rambler believes th;
this particular house will not assume
resentful attitude toward him for writii
jfl
J|| WSBSMSSrwm
ii li'-a :r ill r
f#* * r* *4 * * s*?">
I. l.j...r I. , .; <?
THE M
Hig'h Co
Social < 'orreapondence of The Star.
PARIS, March ?. itMS.
MOST of the high-class Par
restaurants are doing l>ett?
than they did in peace time
Only the night establisl
rnents suffer. The precautions again:
Zeppelin raids and a general sense <
propriety make night life an impof
sibility. which helps the honest appc
tile. No supper after the theater? A
that money is saved for dinner.
A new clientele goes in for ser
?us gormandizing War contractor
pending their newly earned w.-altl
are lost In the mass of inlddle-cla?
families hunting something tasty an
a little brightness, and the tourists an
foreigners who used to he so much i
evidence are replaced by soldiers o
permission, with their wives, sister
cousins and children.
I lunched beside such a party at th
?"afe de la Paix. There were tw
soldiers, obviously father and son
their trench beards replaced by soape
and shining faces ? the fiancee, th
wife and mother, proud as Punch an
still young; a married sister and h<
husband and two growing girls wit
grown appetites.
*
* *
They began with six oysters each, o
the half shell, at 80 cents per dozendearer
at the Cafe de la Paix than *
Maxim's. The four dozen cost $3.2?
but the fish was the grand affair. The
learned from Mlchelet, the maitr
d'hotel, tha* there were turbotin
young, small and tender turbots. whic
could he grilled, slightly breaded an
served with Bernalse sauce, a kind ?
lot mayonnaise with dominating ?s
tragon perfume rjrill a mamma turb?
arid you have a horror, but the turboti
is otherwise. Most of the time y o
? annot get them French fried ~pr
tatoes on the side tPont-Neuf). I tol
you it was a new clientele The
I.now what they like. The fish cos
them $4.SO.
How the growing girls waded inl
Hie gravy of Hie mutton kidneys i
port "Lucile." whispered mamm:
"don't forget there's pheasant!" Tli
roast was not a roast, but one of thos
immense bresse capons, braised, bake
and basted in an oven, w ith truffles a
big as new potatoes, and stuffed wit
a wine-perfumed forcemeat. It wa
c heap at $4.5n. considering its size an
trimmings. They made a course <
Algerian pease at 40 cents per portto
--and then the real lunch began.
They had been drinking a decent re
Bordeaux at $1.80 per bottle, int
which they put a drop of water f<
politeness. With the potted pheasar
and the foie-gras pie they had bottle
of a grand old Medoc whose perfum
camejo me. J call it "potted" pheai
m.in, mui nio V.HCI mar.rs u?in? can at
and tougher meat cooked down to
thick glaze mixed with hashed savorU
and Madeira and cooled aolid roun
the white meat. The pink goose live
held In a like eolld "farce" or stulfini
la sliced likewise. In its luscious pi<
crust.
Foie gras Is scarce and expensive.
} "The grind jpotUag houses of Toi
II-; OFF GEORGIA AVENUE.
ed that it is still a young house and that it
nf will preserve its youth for many years to
come.
rk *
it- * *
ihr It sits far hack from the street, as
,1S though it would preserve its air of exelusiveness
even in this age of publicat
itv and notoriety. This old house seems
h~ to protest against the habit which so
many modern houses have fallen into,
of building themselves flush with the
sidewalk and perching themselves
ne where any man may rub elbows against
se them or strike matches on their front.
'. This old house, if it could get its own
sentiments and convictions into the
* >' newspapers, would probably denounce
er as a vulgar fashion the passion which
,.g new houses have for getting as close
to the curbstone as the building regua
Iations arid inspectors will permit. This
n. house belongs to the period when every
[jg well mannered, dignified and properly
conducted house insisteil on having its
own garden and rejoiced in a name inli
stead of a number. The Rambler is
violating no confidence when he assures
his readers that this old house, comfortably
seated in its own grounds,
i't feels pity, with just a trifle of disdain,
Ul for those misguided houses which
ifi stand up in a row, all so near alike that
ts their sole distinguishing mark is a
is number on the transom or the door,
of The house has a central building
at flanked on each side with a wing. It
a has a plenitude of porches, and the
lg porches have width, length and iron
0i^" ^ :
'^zm*' M%
ij : : ?! ^ : . <! \v.f U
?prp *;** ? j - , ? ^r';?;* ? * ? Yyvvv&?'->, '?*? f
i! ; I J I. : i: - i.:-.,..Li:.. .:J- i*Av. *i
ILLER OCTAGOX HOI?K OX GEORGIA
?sst nf Livi
louse and Nerac buy up all the foie
mas mi the south of France." says
,3 Michelet. "while from Strasburg there
y is nothing. Kvery wife, mother or
' fiancfe who has a poilti at the front
wants to semi him an earthen pot of
i- foie gran by mail, and a live lobster in
a wet basket if she can find a swift
f messenger returning to the trenches."
r Well." 1 said.
"Well, the foie gras arrives in beau
tjf jI condition, but the lobster?tut,
I tut' That's the reason soldiers on permission
wont eat lobster, thrf sweetest,
the freshest; they can't hear to see
i- it "
r. The restaurant loses money on foie
i, gras.
It loses money on eggs, butter, fish.
5S meats and poultry. A portion of boiled
d ham costs as dear as*a slice of potted
d pheasant or a quail Marie Stuart, yet
n they make money on game Any one
can kill it with a club Ave miles outII
side the capital. l.ack of shooting has
"The great restaurant cellars are full
ift ?.f fine wines," he says. "They will last
until after the war. so the wine list
prices have not been raised. If we had
~~ to buy fine wines we couldn't. We are
id really losing money, but don't know
e it"
. They make !t up by cookery. It Is a
phenomenon. Th?* war has raised the
'r Mandard of cookery enormously. All
h the grand old chefs who had retired on
their money have gone back to work
again. They seem to have carte blanche
to run their kitchens.
"We make it up in quantity," says
n Mfchelet. "The public has time to eat?
? and money. We are encouraged, we are
^ flattered, we are happy. Old Adam, who
t was chef of the Cafe Anglais In 1865, i
' and eighty-three years old last month,
y paid us a visit yesterday and wept? i
e yes, wept?to see the grand old cookery
s booming once more in Paris. With the
' hurried life before the war they had
no time. Now it's a joy to see them
d wallow!" i
*
;;
u My soldier party had a respectable
11 bill. After the cheese they went in for
,j magnificent fruits?tender Chasselas
Y grapes and pears and apples at 40 cents
il apieCe, and worth It. The liqueurs cdst
o 20 cents the tiny glass, and filter cof11
fee 16 cents. With the wines the bill
touched 140 for a family of eight, !. e.,
?e $5 per. I don't call that dear. It Is
^ curious that the mutton kidneys cost
h hh mum h? ine irumpci capon.
Ls f myself can lunch with my mother at
?1 the Cafe de la I'aix for $3 and have
>f plenty. For example: Grilled filet of
n beef with Bernaise and Pont Neuf potatoes,
00 cents; jrirolles (a kind of
"t mushroom), 45 cents; fruit salad in
? maraschino. 60 cents; plum pudding, 60
>r cents; beer, 16 cents; coffee (for one),
11 16 cents, and cover (i e.. cloth and napkins),
24 cents. The plum pudding is
ordered partly because the rum burns
" blue and festive, dancing, you know,
^ and partly because it is made by the
chef and does not come canned from
d Leeds. \
r> Another time I may tackle the sim*
If', pie chicken croquettes at 35 cents per
?- portion?all depends on how the abused
dish is made. Since truffles have been !
cultivated in France, of late years, by
I" planting the spores, the* are within i
railings. Above the roof rises a lookout
or a little observation tower. Many
trees grow around the house. Its lot Is
of about the size of a city square and
the northwest corner is covered with
a rose garden. This garden, with its
wealth of bloom and color, has given
pleasure to countless wayfarers along
the old 7th street road. At the north
side of the house and at its rear are
glasshouses, in which live flowers of
rarity and beauty. The
Uanibler was walking along
Georgia avenue last Sunday and paused
opposite this attrarti\-e old house. He
wanted to go in and speak to it. but
there were restraining considerations.
It requires a certain amount of boldness
to walk up to a city house, ring its
doorbell and ask it the story of its life.
There is always the haunting feeling
that the city house may consider the
Rambler an intruder.
*
* *
Well, when the Rambler saw this dignified
old red brick house, with its
wings and its cupola and its porches,
all settled back in its big garden he
felt that it required nerve to interrupt
such an old house in its Sabbath meditations.
But then there were the hundreds
of rosebushes in the garden and
the greenhouses at the side and rear,
and the Rambler felt that a house so
fond of flowers must be a good and
gentle old house, so, nerving himself
for the encounter, he walked down the
footpath between the broad lawns and
rang the doorbell.
A young man with white hair came
to the door and the Rambler asked
when the house was built, who its
owner was and if it would object to
having its picture taken. "Come in."
said the man. The ice was broken,
and the Rambler and George Field
sank into two easy chairs in the handsome
library of the fine old house. Mr.
Field ami his wife have lived in the
house since 1&S9. At that time it was
owned by two members of Congress
from Kansas who had bought the property
from the Stickney family, and it
came to the Stickney family through
marriage with the bewia family, the
old house having been for years the
home of that Mr. Lewis who was president
of the Seventh Street Turnpike
Company. The Rambler did not have
the honor of an acquaintance with this
family, hut will endeavor to obtain
more information concerning this old
Washington family than he now has.
The Rambler remembers that before
the civil war there were living along
the 7th street road between the Boundary
and Plney Branch the following: J.
Johnson, Mrs. Beckert, W. Belt, E.
jjunasiey, i^nancs Kr. i age, vv . *.*. ?v .
White. W. M. Cammack. J. B. Haw. J.
Holmead, J. E. Winebergrer, J. Homer.
Benjamin Summy, w. Little, A. Rav and
: ' ^ V ? .J ; j
AVENUE.
ng Resul
\ w
lh? r-AO. W ,t nil liritk niAr.lv r.t ? i a ll t
chicken and truffles, the croquette becomes
a glory; and the Perigord sauce
Is the second best In the world?some
even prefer it to the Bernaise.
The Grand Cafe, beneath the Jockey
Club, Is the largest and most beautiful
In Paris, with the highest rent?$25,000
a year. Just before the war they
began refitting it entirely. For a yearit
remained closed. Now it is in full
blast, grandly illuminated, with mosaic
floors, red plush upholstery, white and
gold walls, the famous ceiling paintings,
great waving green plants in majolica
tubs and a big, quiet, cozy afternoon
rrowd just sitting around amid the electric
lights. The grand rotunda, for
which the late Pat Sheedy offered to pay
the entire rent of the establishment to
make It an American bar, is again a
restaurant, with prices a trifle iower
than the Cafe de la Paix.
*
* *
The thermidcr lobster of the Grand
Cafe, for instance, is marked 80 cents
per portion, while the Paix leaves the
price blank. The Maxim management
at the Ambassadeurs marks 80 cents
for its lobster a la Xage (swimming),
but, as I tell you, they're so sick of
lobster in the trenches that no able
ooaiea r rencnman unaer sixty dare be
seen eating It in Paris. It would proclaim
him to be a shirker, who had
never tasted the joys and sorrows of
the front. No man of the fighting line
will ever eat lobster again. When
they turn an opalescent pinkish-blue
with yellow glints, they throw them
at the Germans.
If I had the analytical gift, I would
study how these higher-class Paris
restaurants can be so prosperous while
losing money on lobsters, eggs, butter,
fish, meats and poultry, while families
ba\f to cut down expenses on all
\ t
h 9he
John Saul. Off the 7th street road beyond
the Rook Creek Church road were
the farms of O. B. Taylor and T. Mosher,
and off the 7th street road in the
Piney branch neighborhood were the
farms of Dr. Noble W. Blagden, Mrs.
C. Saunders. William Morrison and
Mrs. S. A. Greeves. About a year ago
the Rambler jotted down some valuable
memoranda which were given him
concerning this territory by William J.
Frizzell. but he lost the notes.
The Rambler is reminded of some interesting
matter relating to the gentlemfltl
11- ll r* n At*. lil-AO ill t U A r\l/l hri Alt"
house in the big; garden by the side of
Georgia avenue west of Park road.
George Field and his brother, Thomas
Field, were propagators, or developers,
or whatever the right word may be, of
that rose which is now famous as "the
American beauty." George Bancroft,
the historian and diplomatist, and John
Brady, a florist, still living in Washington,
and who is also one of the
Rambler's friends, were actors in the
romance of the great American rose
which the whole world now knows as
"the American beauty." A very bitter
controversy arose as to the origin of
this rose when it became rich and fanous.
but the Rambler is not a party
to this war of the rose and his chief
interest in it is that it was born in
Washington and discovered and developed
to its present state of beauty byWashington
men. There is glory
enough for all those men who were
concerned in discovering and developing
the American beauty.
As a great many persons know,
George Bancroft was a lover of flowers
and at his home at Newport had one
of the great rosariums, or rosari, of
the United States. He had brought together
there hundreds of the fine varieties
of roses grown in France, Germany.
Belgium and England. Part of
his collection he maintained in the
grounds appurtenant to his Washington
home on H street. At this point it
is proper to give a few facts relating
to Mr. Bancroft. He was born near
Worcester, Mass., in 1800. He was
educated, or at least be received his
youthful schooling, at Harvard and in
Germany. In 1832 he published a translation
of Heeren's "Politics of Ancient
Greece" and a small volume of poems,
and at that early period in his life was
contemplating writing a history of tlie
United States and was actually collecting
materials.
Three volumes of that history were
published between 1834 and 1840. He >
was appointed Secretary of the Navy
in 1845, but in the following year he
was transferred to England as ambassador
from the United States and
remained in that distinguished office
until 1849, when he returned to New
York and began to prepare for the
press the fourth and fifth volumes of
his history, which appeared in 1852.
The sixth volume appeared in 1854. the
seventh in 1858, the eighth volume followed
soon after and the ninth volume
was given to the public in 1866.
* *
In 1867 Mr. Bancroft was appointed i
minister from the United States to
Germany and held that post at the j
court of Berlin until 1874. In the latter
year the tenth and last volume of
lifs history was published, but. an additional
section, whicli first appeared
as a separate work, was published in (
1882. (Jn returning from Germany in
1875 Mr. Bancroft took up his home in
Washington and died here January 17, !
1891, in his ninety-first year.
Mr. Bancroft's gardener in Washing- '
ton was John Brady, and John is still
with us. known to every florist in
Washington and to thousands of other ^
citizens. Brady had some plant hot- '
houses at his own home, 915 25th 1
street, and a great many rosebushes
which he raised here were front cuttings
from the Bancroft roses. Bancroft and
Brady were good friends as employer ?
and employe, and Mr. Bancroft did his
gardener many kindnesses. In the
Bancroft garden was one rose which
attracted the particular attention of
Brady, and he and Mr. Bancroft often
conferred about it. The gardener
thought he saw in it possibilities,
though the hush was not vigorous, and.
despite all effort, its health continued
to decline.
It was quit** well settled in the minds
of Mr. Bancroft and his gardener that
this particular rose was "La Madame !
Ferdinande Jamin," a French rose j
which had been transplanted to Ger- ,
many, and for a considerable time was 1
cultivated there. It languished in i
Germany, and a prominent rose grower *
in Hamburg gave a hush to Mr. Ban- {
croft, and that particular bush was |
said to be the last specimen of "I^a i
ts in Go<
"5L 7
f' Tl
W AR CONTRACTORS SPENDING TH
these items?and the mass of cheaper '
restaurants almost neglect new cus- a
tomers, hoping they won't come again, r
Our butcher charges 16 cents each for c
n
FEEDING THE TRI
c$mb
Madame Ferdinande Jamin." Tt was
set out in the H street garden, but
no care could make it a robust plant.
Only the eye of an expert on roses
could have seen possibilities for development
in that rose. Brady took
the plant to his own hothouse that he
might the better nurse it. and from it
he obtained cuttings which grew very
well. ,,
George Field and Thomas Field,
brothers, had greenhouses on the old
Douglas property, opposite Rawlins
Square, the site of the new building
for the Department of the Interior.
The Field brothers and Brady were
acquaintances in a business way. From
Mr. Field the Rambler heard the following:
"John Brady, at the time I made his
acquaintance, was a jobbing gardener.
My late brother and I had just started
in business as florists. We sold Brady
cut flowers to supply his trade. One
day he brought the much-discussed rose
to our attention, suggesting that we
try it. The one he brought us. a very
small plant, we tried, and the following
season felt as though we could
try some more. We therefore offered
to take what he had. and he furnished
us twenty-four plants, for which we
paid him $2 each, a large sum in those
days for a rose plant. We later found
that he still had. a larger plant than
any he had sold us. and for this plant
[.offered him $5. He accepted the offer.
When the question of a nam? for
the rose came up. as* Mr. Brady assured
us he had raised the rose from
seed in Mr. Bancroft's garden, we considered
that he had a right to name it.
which he did. There was a popular
Kuropean rose at that time called
'the beauty of France.' and I suggested
that the new rose be ailed
'the beauty of the United States.'
That was rather a long name, and
Brady said, 'Call it the American
beauty.' Rater we learned that the
rose did not originate in the Bancroft
garden, and that it had been known
in France and Germany, but only as an
outdoor rose of free blooming habit
and poor color. My brother and I
watched the rose and developed its
good qualities as far as our limited
means would permit, selling such plants
and flowers as we could. It was not,
however, until the plants came into
the hands of expert rose growers under
glass that the wonderful qualities
were developed."
Mr. Field, during tv.A ;- ^- -
-----o aumiiiisiraiion
of President Grant, was in charge of
the White House greenhouses. When
he and his brother set up their establishment
off RawLins Square on the
land at the northeast corner of 19th
and E streets they specialized in I>a
Prance roses and did a great deal toward
making that a very popular rose in
Washington. The greenhouses at the
rear of the old brick house on Georgia,
avenue are devoted to the culture of
orchids and there grow the dark magenta
cattleva with deep maroon lip.
which is the favorite flower of the
wife of the President and was such
for a long time previous to her marriage.
For years she has been buying
the blossoms from retail florists and
probably even today she does not know
where they are grown. Mrs. Wilson's
favorite flower, the orchid cattleya,
came from Brazil. Growing back of
the old brick house are thousands of
the white lelia. an orchid which was
brought to the United S5to.lc? from the
Pacific coast of Mexico, the orchid
vanda?light blue with a border of
dark blue around the lip?which was
brought from India, and white cattleyas.
Washington does not consume all
the orchids grown in those greenhouses.
and shipments are made to
cities as far west as Chicago and St.
Louis and as far cast as Boston. Some
time the Rambler is going to rummage
around among those strange and wonderful
flowers that grow at the back
of the old brick house, but just now
he must turn to another subject.
WHEN* one speaks of the Octagon
House it is assumed that he refers
to that house at the corner of New
York avenue and 18th street, erected
by Col. John Tayloe, and which was
begun in 1798 and completed in 1800.
That is a very interesting place. Glenn
Brown in a historical sketch of the
house wrote this:
During the process of the erection of the
Dctag'Mt House Gen. Washington often visited
the building. He took a lively interest in
the house, it being the home of his friend as
(veil as one of the finest residences in the country
at that time. After the year 1814. the British
having burned the White House. President
Fames Madison occupied the Octagon House,
md during his occupancy the treaty of Ghent,
ivhb-h closed our second war between the
United States and Great Britain, was signed
jy him in the circular room, which is now used
3d Eating
1
EIR NEWLY EARNED WEALTH.
premier" mutton chops, yet I can have
far bigger, better, tenderer real "En- ?
rlish" chop at the Grand Caf?*, all
ooked, served and smothered in fresh
0RsL-__
EXCH HEROES. r
/
as the secretary's office of the American Institute
of Architects.
But ther^ are other octagon houses
in and around Washington. Long ago
the Rambler told the story of the Lingan
octagon house, off the Foxhall
road, west of Georgetown. The Foxhall
octagon house, near the Highlands, has
long been one of the features of the
city. On Georgia avenue, about a
square west of the Field place and between
Quiney and Randolph streets, is
11 ui in*: uiu HIIII i ii i*-i r?i i i>K vi. i.inuii
houses of Washington. It is on the
vest side of the street and on land considerably
higher than the street. It was
built more than seventy years ago hv
Benjamin Sum my. who lived to be over
ninety years of age. lliR descendants
are many and a large number of them
are living in Washington. A large
acreage was appurtenant to the house
when the Summys lived there, and Benjamin
Sum my was a farmer and gardener
of ability and means. He built
the octagon house of rock and cement
and it is in a good state of preservation
today. There is a considerable
tract of garden land on the south and
vest of the house even now. but the
city is crowding upon the old house
from all sides. The property went out
of the possession of the Suminy family
about 1877 and a Mr. Conradus and his
family occupied the place for about
seven years. In 1 884 the property was
bought by William Miller, who lives
there today with several members of
bis family. Mr. Miller was horn on
Capitol Hill. He married Miss Heine, a
daughter of William Heine, who owned
and operated fields adjoining the Summy
place on the west as a truck farm.
The old Heine house still stands in the
midst (if new houses on Shepherd
street, a few yards west of Georgia
avenue. The present owner. Vincent K.
Howard, has had the place for five
years and has modernized the interior,
but has let the exterior remain as in
the days of Ileine. Mr. Howard is an
amateur florist, and the garden at the
side and front of his house is one of the
summer show places of that part of the
city and one of the beautiful flower
gardens of Washington.
The 7th street octagon house has a
two story porch around it. and like so
many other old houses it has a cupola.
In it are fourteen rooms, and one room
which was the Summys* kitchen has
eight doors and two windows. One can
lose his bearings in the quaint halls
and stairways of this house. The
grounds at the front of the house are
planted with trees and shrubs, and
some of these, notably the hemlock
trees, were set out by Benjamin Summy
when he was a young man. The deep
well off the northwest side of the house
is still in use. and the Rambler found
refreshment there. It is an interesting
place to visit, and young Miller, who
. jK Ml
f w!
m. |
r,^~-HIH
?fv :'x <* :
,- - ' - ' '.,7. 'v,'^h'4C ,.> ;' V**?''
[ * A ' '
HOME '
>' in the
H
M \ fill :
1
young green beans, for 35 cents, scarcely ,
double the cost of my nasty little raw
sliver. The butcher asks 14 cents for a
veal cutlet, and then Louise spoils it.
The Grand Cafe serves it St. Cloud, with
the garniture and rich meat jelly, for 30
ents, scarcely more than double, again,
the raw abomination. And when you I
set to certain fish, it's more so. River t
trout, in the shops, retail 20, 30, 40 cents j
?ach, according to size. The Grand Cafe
serves middle-sized ones, Meunier?aim- 1
pic butter and white wine sauce?for 40 1
ents apiece, with parsley trimmings. t
soiled potatoes, a bouquet of carnations
md fairy lamp on the table. "
Why, a Savoy omelet costs 80 cents. ?
Fet. at home, first-class, "boiling eggs" v
^ost 7 cents each, and there must be,
rarely, three eggs in a Savoy omelet. r
*** I
The higher restaurants, in truth, have li
iome cooking beaten to an inquiry. |
In our family we pay the butcher 57 \
*ents per pound for calf's liver, 40 h
ents for beef kidneys, 50 cents for pork j
hops, $2 for a decent chicken (entire)
md 32 cents per pound for skinned and t
ut-up warren rabbit (with the head, to
ruarantee it is not cat; but who know (1
f it be the right head!). If it continues, >"
ve shall take to living on pheasant, quail 11
nd partridge! Butter Is from 60 cents
o 48 cents per pound, but we paid that
n peace times. As for flsh, the sole f.
ias gone up, from 50 cents per pound beore
the war to 80 cents at present, the j,
vhiting from 15 cents to 40 cents at ^
resent and the mackerel from 24 cents M
o 48 cents. They are beautifully fresh, it
f excellent quality.
The little restaurants have suffered h
ike home cooking. I was talking to the n
roprietress of that bright little place at o
he Madeleine, where you take the tram tl
or Nuiilly. Mme. Gros has been mar- n
led only two years. She put her dot into p
I
.
' V *'
WELL AND WELLHOl!
stands bv the wellhouse. entertair
the Rambler with good stories ab<
the old house.
*
* *
AT this point the Rambler must fi
his mind of some information
cently acquired. Two weeks ago
wrote of the Van Horn burial plot a
ijt.s tombs adjoining the Beall burial p
at the rear of the Sheriff house nJ
Berining-. At that time he did not kn
who the Van Horns were. <*ol. Josh
Reall. the owner of "Fife." died in 17
He left two children. One of these v
George Beall. who married a Greenfiand
was the grandfather of three lad
whom the Rambler has previou
mentioned?Mrs. Susan Beall You
Sheriff. Mrs. Magruder and Mrs. Hoi
day. Joshua Beall's other child v
Amelia, who married Gen. Rezin Bei
^mkhh
im -. nB Hjon
Mmmb j,.'
yJMi
i&ll^<-"" ^%'^*"-^?'>' *'5* > j?
:-s5&?>V* ' "??5^-~ii'-1^
^'"'*' ;' ^ V
OF GEORGE FIKLD OV GEORGIA
Paris R<
the business, and Gros has been mobi
ized since August. 1914.
"The grand restaurants can buy at ?
advantage," says inadame. "and well-t
do people, who used to count the cos
now flock to them and say: 'Oh. we
we're not going to the races, let's ha
some fine wines and beautiful fruit
There's the profit:'"
Madame has 40 cents per day for r
frigerator ice. the chef and kitchen-helj
wages, the waiters to feed and the re
lo think about. Her husband being ;
the front, the moratorium lets her stai
it off. "Fortunately!" says madam
Kvery morning she opens her sho
sweet, white, clean, and hopes, for goo<
ness' sake, that customers won't com
You see. the place has a lot of "regi
lars. ' who appreciate tlie savory *"?111h
cuisine Mondays, the petit sale (brea
of salt pork boiled with cabbage
Wednesdays the fricandeau, and Frida;
the boeuf a la mode, with its sweet, tit
carrots and life-giving meat jelly. Ai
one is a square meal, and she has n>
raised the prices. She hopes to keep ti
"regulars" for the future. They appn
riato it and help out. as they can, 1
ordering a half bottle of her Fronsac, ?
stewed prunes for 6 cents, or a glass <
Armagnac for 10 cents. Well, an indel
cate unknown newcomer entered ai
abused this state of things, and it was
joy to me to see a Gascon gentlems
named Aristide. who works in the a<
joining shirt store, "set him right." a
though in doing it he upset a sidewa!
table or two, in spite of the head waite
Jules, pulling him back.
*
* *
"Cassoulet of Toulouse" was orderc
:o start with. White beans and goos
jerfumed with slices of dry, red Lyor
jausage, the whole simmered down t
uscious tenderness in a closed earthe
>ot; the dish was invented for Kin
Jagobert, A.D. 628, and has never bee
>eaten. It cost the intruder 18 cent
inert ne sauea into tne Bordelais
jravy of a grilled steak with hi
tread, sopping, dipping, soaking up th
?erfumed blend of expensive mea
flaze, red wine, melted butter, bee
narrow, hashed onions and whiff c
garlic?"meat and drink for 18 cents,
lissed Aj-istide. "again!" For the ma
lad ordered no mineral water, coffe?
ea. wine', vegetable, cheese, liquor o
ittle trifle that might help out th
louse.
Jules, the waiter, brought the mai
lis check.
"What's this?" he snorted. "What'
his 8 cents?"
Adolphe intervened.
"The tablecloth is 8 cents if yoi
on't order wine," said Adolphe. "Ther*
ou see it printed (pointing to th
ienu)."
"I'll not pay it." replied the indeli
ate stranger, pulling on his overcoa
n haste and leaving a two-cent tip ii
ull view.
"You'll not pay it!" boomed an apoca
rptic voice behind liim. it was M
ristide. the Gascon gentleman wh(
rorks in the adjoining shirt store, ant
: is a pleasure to see him in action.
"You'll not pay it. but you wear s
fgh silk hat!" he thundered. "You'l
ot pay it, but you'll desolate a houst
f Cassoulet and Bordelaise steak whil<
ne proprietor is in the trenches. Yoi
light have ordered 6 ceitts worth oi
ig's liver pate, or 6 cenfe' worth 01
. . y*? ?- ' T*
Mt ^|
. -;
iUS
SK 0\ THE MM.1.Kit PI.ACK.
?ed who won distinction in the rontmental
>ut army. They had two daughters. uno
was Aletha. who married <"ol. Van
Horn, whom the Rambler understands
was a New Yorker. They had seven
children, and one of these. Kliza M.
1 Van Horn, married Alexander McOor'*
mieK. Daughters of this marriage, th?
he Misses Mct'ormiek. live til a flue old
nd l''a<^ vailed \ andalusta. near the end
?> ' the KoniJworth rar line. Alexander
?ot Met,'ormiok's father <-ame from Ireland.
*ar lie was a lawyer and was a prominent
ovv man in Washington for many years. Ho
iua was secretary to one of the Presidents.
9t?. but the Rambler does not know which
as one. and has not now the time to look
eld it up.
ies One of the Van Horn girls married
sly <*apt. (Jeorpe Emock, who was prom ng
inent for his gallantry in the Confed
ly- erate states military service.~7\ ramjror ? ?I
'- as Confederate Veterans is named for this
Ml, officer. '
J - ~ -$i !
I AVEME. I
jstayrants
?
il- sardines, a pickled mackerel lor 1?
cents, or s cents' worth of apple tart,
in or .*? cents' worth of Gruyere cheese, or
o- a banana for the same price. A stm?t,
pie carafe of St. Georges white wine
11, costs only 12 cents, or of Sauinur 1"?
ie cents. But. no. you want to desolate
s. the shop. There must be no profit'''
It was grand to hear him. l.ate-- I
e_ told the incident to the nephew of Cor,?s
nuchet. who is running the Cafe des
n\ \mbassadeurs for the Maxim manage,tt
inent.
id *
e.
P- The good, rich restaurant director
sighed.
J. "The little, respectable < ustomers
i" cut down expenses." he said. "The
^ little, respectable restaurants cannot
k.g buy to advantage; their expenses are
iy too heavy in proportion, and they sufi>
fer. The workingman will always have
his eight-cent dish of the day and glass
of wine. And we?we higher restau>y
rants?we are actually making money."
^ lie seemed ashamed of it.
Maxim's, in spite of there being no
id night trade, has doubled its business
a in the past year. The Ambassadeurs
j" serves 300 teas every afternoon, and at
l_ lunch and dinner it is a veritable feslk
tival. Vet the prices are so reasonable
r, that old Maxim customers may almost
doubt my word. I admit that fresh
shrimps are marked 5 cents apiece.
The river trout is 40 cents, the fllet.
de sole Orlv, 50 cents; the whiting Col;d
bert, 35 cents. Among the entrees the
Ci Rizotto au Chipolata costs 40 cents,
Ambassadeur's kidneys T>0 cents, and
,s the famous chicken pie TO cents.
:o And so on.
n "We did not start out to make
money," says the great man. "We Sims'
ply desired to be agreeable. It is such
n a pleasure to see them enjoy the cooks.
ery. especially the officers on permission."
"Then, there is truly a renaissance
s of gastronomy?" T queried,
e He raised his arms in benediction.
f "It's their one grand pleasure," he
m said, "waiting for the victory!"
STERLING HEILIG.
? Humor.
e nj^HE late Hopkinson Smith, noveliat
n and painter, was once accused at
the Players' Club in New York of* a
s lack of humor.
"You New Yorkers." said the herJ
culean southerner, "deny my humor
' because it Is directed against you so
often. You are like the tramp?the
- tramp who denied humor to the ChinaJ
man.
"A tramp knocked at the hack door
. of a California villa, and a smiling
Chinaman appeared.
> "'Say, John,' croaked the tramp,
i 'give us a hand-out, for the love o*
Mike, will ye? S'elp me, I'm starvinV
l " 'Like flish,' said the Chinaman, with
1 his amiable smile.
? " 'You betcher sweet life I like fish/
i said the tramp eagerly.
i "'Call Fliday/ said the Chinaman,
f and. smiling more amiablv^han ever,
I he ehut the door." 't