Mrs. Pitt laughed. "That's very true," she said. "The service isn't exactly prompt, either. We've already waited quite fifteen minutes, I am sure. I ordered lark pie and Cheshire cheese for you, of course. Every one takes them on his first visit here." The lark pie was Dr. Johnson's favorite dish, but that fact does not suffice to make it very enjoyable. Betty frankly confessed that she could not manage to eat hers, but John pretended to be very industrious over his, although he did a good deal of looking about the room and commenting upon things he saw. "There's even sawdust on the floor," he announced jubilantly. "Did you ever! My! How hot and stuffy it is here! Were all old inns just like this, Mrs. Pitt?" "Yes, pretty much so, I think," was the response. "There were ever so many of them, you know, and each was frequented by a certain class of men. For instance, there was the 'British Coffee-house,' where all the Scotch visitors went; there was 'Robin's,' which was noted for its foreign bankers and ambassadors; and there was 'Dolly's Chophouse,' where the wits congregated. Most of the famous clubs held their meetings at one or another of the 'coffee-houses,' too. The 'Spectator Club' met at 'Button's Coffee-house,' and there the 'Spectator Papers' had their beginnings. There Addison, Steele, Pope, and others, spent their leisure hours. Some of the London clubs of the eighteenth century had very queer names!" she continued. "There was the 'Ugly Club,' the 'Quack Club,' the 'Beefsteak Club,' the 'Split-Farthing Club,' and the 'Small Coalmen's Music Club,' for example. Here, at the Cheshire Cheese, Goldsmith often came with Dr. Johnson. Can't you imagine the two sitting over at that table, with Boswell not far away, patiently listening, quill in hand? Dr. Johnson was very careless and untidy, you know, and invariably spilled his soup. It was he who used to walk up and down Fleet Street touching every post he passed!" All this time they had been waiting for their cheese. When it finally came, it proved to be much better than the lark pie. The cheese is served in little three-cornered tins, and is poured hot over crisp pieces of toast. When they had finished, they went up the winding stairs to see the room where the famous "Literary Club" used to meet. Dr. Johnson's chair is preserved there. "Didn't Dr. Johnson live near here, too, Mother?" asked Barbara, as they came out again into the court. "Yes, I believe he lived in both Johnson and Bolt Courts," Mrs. Pitt told them. "His haunts were all about here. In number six, over there, Goldsmith is said to have written 'The Vicar of Wakefield.'" From there, they walked up Fleet Street, discussing their unusual lunch as they went. They had all enjoyed it,--even Betty. She made them all laugh, however, by announcing seriously, "I'm glad I went, but I think it is just about as nice to read about lunching there, as to really do it. And then, you wouldn't be quite so hungry afterwards!"