ears it stood open to the thirsty public. Then the
City Council passed a Sunday-closing ordinance, and with the
enforcement of this law came the discovery that through innocuous
desuetude the hinges of the doors to the Sazeraz had rusted off,
while the doors themselves had become so worm-eaten that they had to
be replaced by new ones. The sheriff who pounced down on Billy
Boyle's in his official capacity must have fancied he had struck a
second Sazeraz, for the lock upon the door was so rusty and rheumatic
through disuse that it absolutely refused to respond to the
persuasion of the keys produced for the performance of its functions.
We cannot help applauding the steadfastness with which this lock
resented the indignity which the official visit of the sheriff
implied.

If we were to attempt to make a roster of the names of those who have
made the old chop-house their Mecca in seasons of hunger and thirst,
we could easily fill a page. So, although you may have never visited
the place yourself, it is easy for you to understand that many are
the associations and reminiscences which attached to it. There was
never any attempt at style there; the rooms were unattractive, save
for the savory odors which hung about them; the floors were bare, and
the furniture was severe to the degree of rudeness. There was no
china in use upon the premises; crockery was good enough; men came
there to feed their stomachs, not their eyes.

Boyle's was a resort for politicians, journalists, artists, actors,
musicians, merchants, gamblers, professional men generally, and
sporting men specially. Boyle himself has always been a lover of the
horse and a patron of the turf; naturally, therefore, his restaurant
became the rendezvous of horsemen, so called. Upon the walls there
were colored prints, which confirmed any suspicion which a stranger
might have of the general character of the place, and the _mise en
scene_ differed in no essential feature from that presented in the
typical chop-house one meets in the narrow streets and by-ways of
"dear ol' Lunnon!"

It is likely that Boyle's has played in its quiet way a more
important part in the history of the town than you might suppose. It
was here that the lawyers consulted with their clients during the
noon luncheon hour; politicians came thither to confer one another
and to devise those schemes by which parties were to be hum