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Updated: May 3, 2025
No doubt the lamb chops in Smith's Caff are often very much the same, nowadays, as the lamb chops of the Mariposa House or the Continental. Of course, things like Omelette aux Trufles practically died out when Alphonse went. And, naturally, the leaving of Alphonse was inevitable. No one knew just when he went, or why. But one morning he was gone. Mr.
Golgotha Gingham spent anything from four to seven hours there of every day. In his mind the place had all the quiet charm of an interment, with none of its sorrows. But at night, when Mr. Smith and Billy, the desk clerk, opened up the cash register and figured out the combined losses of the caff and the Rats' Cooler, Mr.
Every man can rule an ill wife, but he that hes Her. Eaten meat is good to pay. Eild wald have Honour. Evening Orts is good morning-fother. Every man wisheth the water to his own milne. Early maister, lang knave. Every land hes his lauch, and every corne hes the caff. Eat and drink measurely, and defie the mediciners. Every man for Himself, quoth the mertine. Efter delay comes a Let.
The bar's good for anything from forty to a hundred a day now, with the Rats' Cooler going good, and that caff will stay right here." And stay it did. There it stands, mind you, to this day. You've only to step round the corner of Smith's Hotel on the side street and read the sign: LADIES' AND GENT'S CAFE, just as large and as imposing as ever. Mr.
Smith closed it for repairs, and there is every likelihood that it will hardly open for three years. But the caff is there. They don't use the grills, because there's no need to, with the hotel kitchen so handy. The "girl room," I may say, was never opened. Mr. Smith promised it, it is true, for the winter, and still talks of it. But somehow there's been a sort of feeling against it.
Smith said that "Alf had to go back to his folks in the old country." So, too, when Alf left, the use of the French language, as such, fell off tremendously in the caff. Even now they use it to some extent. You can still get fillet de beef, and saucisson au juice, but Billy the desk clerk has considerable trouble with the spelling. The Rats' Cooler, of course, closed down, or rather Mr.
But the caff! that, of course, was the crowning glory of the thing, that and the Rats' Cooler below. Light and cool, with swinging windows open to the air, tables with marble tops, palms, waiters in white coats it was the standing marvel of Mariposa. Not a soul in the town except Mr.
Smith had given them two hundred dollars in cash conditional on the lunches being held in the caff of his hotel; and it's awfully hard to get a proper lunch I mean the kind to which a Bishop can express regret at not being there under a dollar twenty-five. So Mr.
And I'd like to see who's going to close her up then." Within two more weeks the plan was in operation. Not only was the caff built but the very hotel was transformed. Awnings had broken out in a red and white cloud upon its face, its every window carried a box of hanging plants, and above in glory floated the Union Jack. The very stationery was changed. The place was now Smith's Summer Pavilion.
"And here's the letters about the palms, and here's Alphonse up to yesterday " And then an amazing thing happened. "Billy," said Mr. Smith, "tear'em up. I ain't going to do it. It ain't right and I won't do it. They got me the license for to keep the caff and I'm going to keep the caff. I don't need to close her.
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