because they like it."

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