I went in to dinner, but not to dine. Oh,
shades of those who have suffered in boarding-houses--
that dining room! It must have been patterned after the
dining room at Dotheboys' hall. It was bare, and
cheerless, and fearfully undressed looking. The diners
were seated at two long, unsociable, boarding-housey
tables that ran the length of the room, and all the women
folks came down to dine with white wool shawls wrapped
snugly about their susceptible black silk shoulders. The
general effect was that of an Old People's Home. I found
seat after seat at table was filled, and myself the
youngest thing present. I felt so criminally young that
I wondered they did not strap me in a high chair and ram
bread and milk down my throat. Now and then the door
would open to admit another snuffly, ancient, and
be-shawled member of the company. I learned that Mrs.
Schwartz, on my right, did not care mooch for shteak for
breakfast, aber a leedle l'mb ch'p she likes. Also that
the elderly party on my left and the elderly party on my
right resented being separated by my person.
Conversation between E. P. on right, and E. P. on left
scintillated across my soup, thus:
"How you feel this evening Mis' Maurer, h'm?"
"Don't ask me.
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