long and diligent application. At the first trial it seemed to the
club a bit too reptilian in flavour. The club will go there again,
and will hope to arrive in time to grab one of those tables by the
windows, looking out over the docks and the United Fruit Company
steamer which is so appropriately named the _Banan_; but it is the
sense of the meeting that swordfish steak is not in its line.

The club retorts to Mr. Clarke by asking him if he knows the
downtown chophouse where one may climb sawdusted stairs and sit in a
corner beside a framed copy of the _New-York Daily Gazette_ of May
1, 1789, at a little table incised with the initials of former
habitués, and hold up toward the light a glass of the clearest and
most golden and amberlucent cider known to mankind, and before
attacking a platter of cold ham and Boston beans, may feel that
smiling sensation of a man about to make gradual and decent advances
toward a ripe and ruddy appetite.

Fulton Street has always been renowned for its taverns. The Old
Shakespeare Tavern used to be there, as is shown by the tablet at
No. 136 commemorating the foundation of the Seventh Regiment. The
club has always intended to make more careful exploration of Dutch
Street, the little alley that runs off Fulton Street on the south
side, not far from Broadway. There is an eating place on this byway,
and the organization plans to patronize it, in order to have an
excuse for giving itself the sub-title of the Dutch Street Club. The
more famous eating houses along Fulton Street are known to all: the
name of at least one of them has a genial Queen Anne sound. And
only lately a very seemly coffee house was established not far
from Fulton and Nassau. We must confess our pleasure in the
fact that this place uses as its motto a footnote from The