Having once got his customer more or less comfortably seated, or propped
up close to a bar, inside his “’all,” the main object of the proprietor
was to induce him to drink as much as possible of very bad wine and
spirits at positively fancy prices. Phryne, always hovering near,
exhibited a nice solicitude in forwarding the proprietor’s views in this
direction. The waiters, during the frequent “waits,” made a descent on
the stalls, and, forcing their legs through the exiguous spaces,
contributed largely to our discomfort. I recall the revenge of a friend
of mine on a waiter who had forced himself past us for the fourth time.
My friend was a Newmarket man, and was up in London for the Epsom Spring
Meeting. A whisky-and-soda stood on the little ledge in front of him.
As the waiter crushed past, my friend very neatly tipped his glass over
on to the floor. The glass fell shivered, the waiter turned round, my
friend denounced him for his clumsiness and demanded that his glass
should be replenished. The waiter protested. But the manager of the
“’all” decided against his menial. A fresh drink and a new glass were
provided, and not again during the course of that evening did the waiter
attempt to brush past our stalls. Not quite honest on the part of my
friend? Perhaps not; but it was quite effective, and, under the
circumstances, what would you?
Originally the “’all” was merely an annexe to a big public house. The
thing commenced in “harmonic clubs,” “free-and-easies,” and the like, and
many of the customs and traditions of the “free-and-easy” persisted for a
long time under the altered condition of things. Thus, the programme
was, as yet, an unknown document, and the singers were introduced by a
bibulous person who sat on an elevated armchair with his back to the
stage, and his eye roving over the house. To this day I never can quite
make out to what class of society the individuals belonged who sat round
the chairman’s table. They must have had money, for cigars and
brandies-and-soda, and even that champagne which was innocent of grape,
were consumed at their expense. An indifferent, honest crowd, no doubt.
Sharks, exploiters, billiard-markers, sporting touts, reinforced from
time to time by a contingent of moneyed “mugs.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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