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Updated: June 16, 2025
A large stove stood in the center of the room, and a number of small tables were placed around promiscuously, The bar-tender, a smooth-faced, beetle-browed rascal, was engaged in shaking dice for the drinks with a customer, and, to the music of the violin, a light-footed Irishman was executing his national jig, to the great delight and no small edification of his enthusiastic audience.
The sun beat down upon it pitilessly, and the drowsy scent of cedars mingled with the odors of baking dust which eddied in little spirals and got into the loungers' throats. The bar-tender was liberal with his ice, however, and Black became confidential.
When I drifted into a saloon to see who might be spending the evening out, the bar-tender proved he had the advantage of me in acquaintance by crying: "Hello, Franck! What ye having?" and showing great solicitude that I get it. After which I took up the starlit tramp again, to run perhaps into some such perilous scene as on that third evening.
What was to be done? Perhaps the bar-tender, understanding the difficulty, would help him out of it. He resolved to apply to him. "Mr. Bummerton," he said, approaching the bar again, "now't Joe's gone, an' I ain't got no money, I don't see how I'm goin' to git home. Could could you lend me enough to pay my fare up? I'll send it back to you right away. I will, honest!"
He shudders, and shrinks from her touch, as from a reptile. A look of scorn, and she turns from him, and is lost among the grotesque crowd in the distance. "This gin," says Mr. Fitzgerald, turning methodically to Brother Spyke, "they make do for food and clothing. We used to call this the devil's paradise. As to Krone, we used to call him the devil's bar-tender.
I looked about me and pushed into what seemed the least disreputable one of its kind. I made through the haze of foul air and tobacco smoke to the counter, and stood idly by until the bar-tender should find it convenient to wait upon me.
I will come again in an hour," Tom replied. The man nodded shortly, and went on with his work. When Tom returned, the bar-tender said to a man who was sitting at one of the tables talking to the miners, "This is the chap I told you of as was here about the letter."
Interesting because his career was a drama instructive because it showed a grit, pluck, and self-denial which many of his contemporaries might have envied and imitated: wharf-rat, newsboy, dish-washer in a sailor's dive, bar-helper, bar-tender, bar-keeper, bar-owner, ward heeler, ward politician, clerk of a district committee go-between, in shady deals, between those paid to uphold the law and those paid to break it and now, at this time of writing, or was a year or so ago, the husband of "the Missus," as he always calls her, the father of two children, one three and the other five, and the proprietor of the Shady Side Inn, above the Harlem River and within a stone's throw of the historic Bronx.
I will make up for it now. Another glass, please." "First pay for what you have already drunk." "Frank, hand me your money," said Montagu. Frank incautiously handed him his small stock of money, which he saw instantly transferred to the bar-tender. "That is right, I believe," said Montagu Percy.
He had never before heard of a dinner being worth so much money. "Oh! it's all right," said Joe. "This is rather a high-priced hotel; but they get up everything in first-class style, do you see? "If in style you drink and eat, Lofty bills you'll have to meet." "But I ain't got that much money," said Ralph, unstrapping his wallet. "How much have ye got?" inquired the bar-tender.
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