vities. Suppers
there were and, what is more to the point, every kind of refreshment.

The most important item on this manifest I have saved until the last.
There is in it something of the epic, of the beyond, of the trans and
the super. I print it in capitals that it may the better penetrate:

NO FIXED CLOSING HOURS

Such is the unlucky star under which I was born that I have escaped at
these clubs all of the artistic and cultural performances. When I have
attended them no light has been thrown on the Drama, Opera, Pantomime,
Vocal Music, or "such delicate Art of the past as adapts itself to the
frame of an intimate stage, and more especially all such new art as in
the strength of its sincerity allows simplicity." Nor has it been my
luck to be present during the production of "Lysistrata," by
Aristophanes, or "Bastien et Bastienne," by W. A. Mozart, or "Orpheus,"
by Monteverde, or "Maestro di Capella," by Pergolese, or "Timon of
Athens," by Purcell. Nor have I been present when an eminent technician
has rendered Florent Schmitt's "Palais Hante," or Arnold Schoenberg's
"Pierrot Lunaire." All of which are booked for production or rendition.
And yet I cannot feel that my money has been entirely wasted. It has
bought me "every kind of refreshment," and catering by Frenchmen, and
the company of lovely ladies--ladies, who, I fear, are more familiar
with the works of Victoria Cross than the works of Aristophanes, and
whose ears are attuned to the melodies of Theodore Moses-Tobani rather
than to the diabolical intricacies of Schoenberg's piano pieces.

Let us indulge ourselves for a moment in what is known to ritualists as
a responsive service, thus:

Q.--What is a Supper Club?

A.--A Supper Club is a legal technicality--a system whereby the
English law is misconstrued, misapplied, controverted, disguised and
outdone. Specifically, it is a combination restaurant, cafe, and dance
hall, the activities in which begin at about one A.M. and continue so
long as there are patrons whose expenditures warrant the orchestra being
retained and the electric lights being left on. A Supper Club is usually
downstairs, decorated in the cheap imitation of a grape arbour,
furnished with small tables, comfortable wicker chairs, suave and
sophisticated waiters, an orchestra of from six to ten pieces and a
small polished floor for purposes of dancing. Supper Clubs are run to
meet every size of pocketbook. There are those whose patrons do not