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Old Waldorf Bar Days
his starving offspring. Father, his senses dulled from
hours of steady absorption of "gin," would strike out
blindly at some elephant or camel-or maybe it was an
alligator or a hippopotamus-that had become outlined
in the haze about him. A scream: "You have killed our
child!" And over the prostrate body of the little one, a
drunkard, if not too late, would take an oath and become
a reformed man. Or if it was too late, he would drink and
drink, and sink and sink, until he went to fill a grave in
some Potter's Field.
Often, it must be admitted, there was a good deal of
truth in the picture. The author makes no effort to mini–
mize the harm done by the common saloon. But this
treatise, or whatever it is properly called, does not con–
cern the ordinary saloon. Nor, being more or less of an
historical nature, will it attempt to gloss over certain
stark and terrible truths that used to be common
property.
But, beitrepeated, one is not dealing with a common
saloon, or any "saloon"-so-called. This is not an essay
on prohibition. It deals with a unique institution; one
not supposed to be patronized by heads of families who
were unable properly to feed and clothe their dependents.
One says "supposed" advisedly. The great majority of
its patrons were men of means. Most of its customers
resorted to it openly. They made no secret of
their
patron–
age. Some rather plumed themselves on being seen there.
It gave them opportunity for mingling with the notabil–
ities of the time-or at least, for herding with them.
Service was rendered with a distinction many estab–
lishments of a similar nature lacked. For example, in its
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