Where she now stands, under what name
she is admired or criticised, history does not inform
us; but I like to think she may adorn the shrubbery of
some suburban tea-garden, where holiday shop-girls hang
their hats upon the mother, and their swains (by way of
an approach of gallantry) identify the winged infant
with the god of love.
In a certain cabman's eating-house on the outer
boulevard I got credit for my midday meal. Supper I
was supposed not to require, sitting down nightly to
the delicate table of some rich acquaintances. This
arrangement was extremely ill-considered. My fable,
credible enough at first, and so long as my clothes
were in good order, must have seemed worse than
doubtful after my coat became frayed about the edges,
and my boots began to squelch and pipe along the
restaurant floors. The allowance of one meal a day,
besides, though suitable enough to the state of my
finances, agreed poorly with my stomach. The
restaurant was a place I had often visited
experimentally, to taste the life of students then more
unfortunate than myself; and I had never in those days
entered it without disgust, or left it without nausea.
Pages:
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119