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Page 14
"Is that the _Leviathan_ up there?" said one of the members,
pointing toward a gray hull on the Hoboken horizon. No one knew, but
the secretary was reminded of an adventure during the war. "One time
I was crossing on this ferry," he said, "and the _Leviathan_ passed
right by us. It was just at dusk and her camouflage was wonderful.
Her blotches and stripes were so arranged that from a little
distance, in the twilight, she gave the impression of a much smaller
vessel, going the other way. All her upper works seemed to fade out
in the haze and she became a much smaller ship." "That would be a
wonderful plan for some of these copious dowagers one sees," said
the irreverent Lawton. "Yes," we said; "instead of a stout lady
going in to dinner, you would see a slim flapper coming out."
Something was then said about a good friend of the club who had at
one time worked for the Y.M.C.A. "What is he doing now?" asked one.
"He's with Grace and Company," said the secretary. The candidate was
unabashed. "Think," he said, "of a Y.M.C.A. man getting grace at
last."
The club found the Jersey City terminal much as usual, and to our
surprise the candidate kept up his courage nobly as he was steered
toward the place of penance, being the station lunch counter. The
club remembered this as a place of excellent food in days gone by,
when trains from Philadelphia stopped here instead of at the Penn.
Station. Placing the host carefully in the middle, the three sat
down at the curving marble slab. The waiters immediately sensed that
something unusual was toward. Two dashed up with courteous
attentions. It was surmised by the club that the trio had happened
to sit at a spot where the jurisdictions of two waiters met. Both
the wings of the trio waved the waiters toward the blushing novice,
making it plain that upon him lay all responsibility. "It is
obvious," remarked the secretary, "that you, Lawton, are right on
the boundary line where two waiters meet. You will have to tip them
both."
The new member was game. "Well," he said, without a trace of
nervousness; "what'll you have?" The choice fell upon breast of
lamb. The secretary asked for iced tea. Endymion, more ruthless,
ordered ginger ale. When the ginger ale came, Lawton, still waggish,
observed the label, which was one of the many imitations of a
well-known brand. "The man who invented the diamond-shaped label,"
said Lawton, "was certainly a pathfinder in the wilderness of the
ginger ale business. This ginger ale," said Lawton, tasting it, "is
carefully warmed, like old claret."
The club sought to keep their host's mind off the painful topic of
viands. "Sitting here makes one feel as though he ought to be going
to take a train somewhere," said one. "Yes, the express for
Weehawken," said the vivacious host. From this it was only a step to
speaking of Brooklyn. The secretary explained that the club had
outlined a careful itinerary in that borough for proximate pursuit.
Lawton told that he had at one time written an essay on the effect
of Brooklyn on the dialogue of the American drama. "It is the butt
end of Long Island," he cried, with cruel mirth. Lovers of Brooklyn
in the club nearly blackballed him for this.
With ice cream and cottage pudding, the admirable menu proceeded.
The waiters conferred secretly together. They carefully noted the
cheerful carving of the host's brow. They will know him again. A man
who bursts in suddenly upon a railroad lunch counter and pays for
three such meals, here is an event in the grim routine! But perhaps
the two charter members were feeling pangs of conscience. "Come,"
they said, "at least let us split the ginger ale checks." But
Lawton was seeing it through. Not a drum was heard, not a funeral
note, as our host to the cashier we hurried. The secretary bought a
penny box of matches and lit the great man's cigarette for him.
Endymion, equally stirred, ran to buy the ferry tickets for the
return voyage. "This time," he said, "I will be the ferry
godmother."
On the homeward passage a little drowse fell upon the two charter
members. They had lunched more richly than was their wont. "Oh,
these distressing, heavy lunches!" as Aldous Huxley cries in one of
his poems. But Lawton was still of bright vivacity. At that time the
club was perturbed by the coming Harding-Cox election. "Which of the
vice-presidents are you going to vote for?" he cried, and then said:
"It looks to me like Debs or dubs."
Endymion and the secretary looked at each other solemnly. The time
had come. "I, Endymion," said the chairman, "take thee, Lawton, to
have and to hold, as a member of the club."
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