they depended for their main support. Then masculine
New York left its shop or its counting house, hurried a block to the
right, or a block to the left, and fell greedily on the succulent
oyster, the slice of rare roast beef, or the sizzling English mutton
chop. Conspicuous among the refectories of this type were the Auction
Hotel, on Water Street, near Wall; the dining room of Clark and Brown,
on Maiden Lane, near Liberty Street, one of the first of the so-called
English chop-houses; the United States Hotel, which stood, until a few
years ago, at the corner of Water and Fulton Streets, and which was the
chosen home of the captains of the whaling ships from New London,
Nantucket, New Bedford, and Sag Harbor; Downing's, on Broad Street,
famed for its Saddle Rocks and Blue Points, and its political patrons;
and the basement on Park Row, a few doors from the old Park Theatre,
presided over by one Edward Windust. This last was a _rendezvous_ for
actors, artists, musicians, newspaper-men--in short, the Bohemian set of
that day--and its walls were covered with old play-bills, newspaper
clippings, and portraits of tragedians and comedians of the past.

But already a demand had been felt for viands of another nature;
hospitality of another sort. The womankind of the day was looking for an
occasional chance to break away from the monotonous if wholesome and
substantial table of the home. Those stiff Knickerbockers knew it not;
but the modern dining-out New York was already in the making. At first
the movement was ascribed to the European Continental element. In New
York Delmonico and Guerin were the pioneers in the field. The former
began in a little place of pine tables and rough wooden chairs on
William Street, between Fulton and Ann. The original equipment consisted
of a broad counter covered with white napkins, two-tine forks,
buck-handled knives, and earthenware plates and cups. From such humble
beginnings grew the establishments that have subsequently carried the
name. Francis Guerin's first cafe was on Broadway, between Pine and
Cedar Streets, directly opposite the old City Hotel. Another resort of
the same type was the _Cafe des Mille Colonnes_, kept by the Italian,
Palmo, on the west side of Broadway, near Duane Street. It was
apparently on a scale lavish for those days. Long mirrors on the walls
reflected, in an endless vista, the gilded columns that supported the
ceiling. The fortune accumulated by Palmo in the restau