iness portion of
the city, the docks and the market-place. There are two large halls,
one above the other, containing five long tables, seating thirty
persons each, thus accommodating three hundred customers at a sitting.
In the upstairs room it costs eleven cents in our money for a
good dinner; in the lower room it costs nine cents. There are no
tablecloths and no napkins, but the tops of the tables have been
scoured until they shine and everything is spotless. The whole
institution is a model of neatness. It seems remarkable how it can be
kept so clean with so many unwashed customers and so much business.
The windows are large and let in plenty of light. The walls are
covered with bright tints, and the waitresses wear white caps, aprons,
and oversleeves. At each place is a knife, fork, spoon, drinking
glass, cup and saucer, and a piece of bread about three inches square.
Dinner is served from ten in the morning until six in the afternoon to
an average of 2,500 people daily. Some of them come twice. They take a
cup of coffee and eat a piece of cheese and bread at their homes early
in the morning. Then at ten or eleven, and again at four or five
o'clock, they go to the "kitchen" for a square meal. Thus it costs
them not more than twenty-five cents a day, all told, for their food.
In the last ten years they have never served less than 1,500 people in
a day.

The bill of fare varies from day to day, but we will take one day,
Tuesday, for example. A large dish of barley soup is served, wholesome
and nourishing, a ball of hashed meat, with potatoes and rice, or
boiled salmon, potatoes and turnips.

The nine-cent dinner is pretty much the same, with the exception of
the soup; boiled potatoes and rice, or boiled salmon, potatoes and
turnips. A plate of soup alone, which in itself would be more than a
meal for most people, being filled with meat and vegetables, is served
for three cents.

The same dinners are furnished to the public to be eaten at their
homes for nine and seven cents respectively, and usually contain
enough food for two or three women, although Norwegians have stalwart
appetites. The outdoor service is conducted in another part of the
building, upon another street. The patrons procure tickets at an
office and then form in line--men, women and children, each with
a bucket or a basket, or both, in hand. Many tickets are given
gratuitously, but it is impossible to distinguish the paying from the
charity cust