flames an’ I’m the sufferer—nip back, rush ‘em on, rush ‘em off, rush ‘em out, rush ‘em in.... A couple kicks on the partition, nip back, three buzzes, an’ there you are—first feature, which naturally comes on last. In case of emergency, the show must go on. If necessary, borrow a lipstick, paint your nose ved—one-two-three—an’ get up on my stage an’ tell funny stovies. Or do paper-tearing—miv the Situations Vacant page Daily Telegraph you can tear out a doily, or a row dancing dolls, miv a runningcommentary. Remember Fowlers End ain’t Buckingham Palace. If you tear paper, tell the doorman to shout from the back, ‘Oi, Dad, don’t tear up the tablecloth till I read the football results!’—an’ there won’t be a dry seat in the ‘ouse. You’ll see.
“An’ always remember not to forget this: When in doubt, talk very slow; it makes up for not having nothing to say. Otherwise, when in doubt, talk very quick; it gives you time to think. But above all, when in doubt, shut up; then somebody else in doubt will talk and make a fool o’ himself. If everything else fails, tread heavy on somebody’s foot an’ shout, ‘Where you going, can’t you?’
“Now look at the dressing rooms.”
Sam Yudenow took out a large key and opened a side door adjacent to a mean little shop front—a deplorable, a repellent shop front made up of three gray panes of smeared glass rattling in Gothic frames. All the woodwork was painted in a singularly unsavory shade of blue. There is blue, and blue. Some kinds of blue remind you of babies’ eyes, Mediterranean skies, sapphires, or flowers. Other blues suggest midnight and deep melancholy. But the blue of this place was of such a quality that, if you had seen it anywhere else, your first impulse would have been to call a doctor. It was something like the color of the lips of an asthmatic plumber dying of lead poisoning who has put himself out of his misery with cyanide. At every join in the woodwork there was a bubbly bluish-white froth of putty and poisonous paint expelled in a last gasp. The window frames on the floor above were of the same hue, only paler. Those of the second floor were gray streaked with orange. But on the fascia over the window was fixed a long glass plate, deeply engraved or countersunk with bold Roman letters in bright gold, which said: cafe cosmopolitan. Over the door, on a heavy wrought-iron bracket, hung a sign: RESTAURANTVITELLIUS. Yet on the lintel of the shop door some palsied hand had painted in pale orange,in small letters: S. Yudenow Licensed to Sell Tobacco. Behind the left-hand panel of the window I could see a plaster-of-paris ham, a celluloid bowl of wax fruit, and a pyramid of dummy cigarette packets half unstuck. The center panel was chaste, in the Japanese style—there was only a frying pan painted silver in which lay two slices of cardboard ham, a wooden tomato, a clay cutlet, and a lacquered red sausage. Over these goodies hung an appetizing vapor of cotton wool suspended on a bit of string nailed to the ceiling. The panel on the right was full of dummy chocolate bars and empty tobacco tins; but there was also a large gilded frame embossed Hotel Carlton-Waldoria, containing the menu of a special banquet given by the American Ambassador in honor of the Chinese statesman Li Hung Chang in 1897. Lower left, a photograph of a Greek wrestler autographed with a cross; a Vanity Fair caricature of Lord Palmerston; and an ostrich egg. Toward center, a printed card: COSTAS. LADIES AND GENTS TAILORS AND REPAIRS, APPLY WITHIN. Right, again, another card:
!!!BILL OF FARE!!!
SPECIAL THIS DAY!!
Eggs 1
Fried ” 1
Boiled
3d!
2d!
2d!
"2 Fried"
2 Boiled
5d!
5d!
Sausages 1
2
3d!
6d!
Fish
Chips
Fish & Chips
Egg & Chips
5d!
3d!
8d!
6d!
Meat Pie
“ & Chips
Tea
Coffee
Cocoa
3d!
5 1/2d!
1 1/2d!
2d!
2d!
VALET SERVICE ON REQUEST
COME AGAIN!!!
And over all a burned-grease odor, as of Landru’s
“An’ always remember not to forget this: When in doubt, talk very slow; it makes up for not having nothing to say. Otherwise, when in doubt, talk very quick; it gives you time to think. But above all, when in doubt, shut up; then somebody else in doubt will talk and make a fool o’ himself. If everything else fails, tread heavy on somebody’s foot an’ shout, ‘Where you going, can’t you?’
“Now look at the dressing rooms.”
Sam Yudenow took out a large key and opened a side door adjacent to a mean little shop front—a deplorable, a repellent shop front made up of three gray panes of smeared glass rattling in Gothic frames. All the woodwork was painted in a singularly unsavory shade of blue. There is blue, and blue. Some kinds of blue remind you of babies’ eyes, Mediterranean skies, sapphires, or flowers. Other blues suggest midnight and deep melancholy. But the blue of this place was of such a quality that, if you had seen it anywhere else, your first impulse would have been to call a doctor. It was something like the color of the lips of an asthmatic plumber dying of lead poisoning who has put himself out of his misery with cyanide. At every join in the woodwork there was a bubbly bluish-white froth of putty and poisonous paint expelled in a last gasp. The window frames on the floor above were of the same hue, only paler. Those of the second floor were gray streaked with orange. But on the fascia over the window was fixed a long glass plate, deeply engraved or countersunk with bold Roman letters in bright gold, which said: cafe cosmopolitan. Over the door, on a heavy wrought-iron bracket, hung a sign: RESTAURANTVITELLIUS. Yet on the lintel of the shop door some palsied hand had painted in pale orange,in small letters: S. Yudenow Licensed to Sell Tobacco. Behind the left-hand panel of the window I could see a plaster-of-paris ham, a celluloid bowl of wax fruit, and a pyramid of dummy cigarette packets half unstuck. The center panel was chaste, in the Japanese style—there was only a frying pan painted silver in which lay two slices of cardboard ham, a wooden tomato, a clay cutlet, and a lacquered red sausage. Over these goodies hung an appetizing vapor of cotton wool suspended on a bit of string nailed to the ceiling. The panel on the right was full of dummy chocolate bars and empty tobacco tins; but there was also a large gilded frame embossed Hotel Carlton-Waldoria, containing the menu of a special banquet given by the American Ambassador in honor of the Chinese statesman Li Hung Chang in 1897. Lower left, a photograph of a Greek wrestler autographed with a cross; a Vanity Fair caricature of Lord Palmerston; and an ostrich egg. Toward center, a printed card: COSTAS. LADIES AND GENTS TAILORS AND REPAIRS, APPLY WITHIN. Right, again, another card:
!!!BILL OF FARE!!!
SPECIAL THIS DAY!!
Eggs 1
Fried ” 1
Boiled
3d!
2d!
2d!
"2 Fried"
2 Boiled
5d!
5d!
Sausages 1
2
3d!
6d!
Fish
Chips
Fish & Chips
Egg & Chips
5d!
3d!
8d!
6d!
Meat Pie
“ & Chips
Tea
Coffee
Cocoa
3d!
5 1/2d!
1 1/2d!
2d!
2d!
VALET SERVICE ON REQUEST
COME AGAIN!!!
And over all a burned-grease odor, as of Landru’s
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