VIII. The Inconsiderate Waiter

They were the family of William, one of our club waiters who had been
disappointing me grievously of late. Many a time have I deferred dining
several minutes that I might have the attendance of this ingrate. His
efforts to reserve the window-table for me were satisfactory, and I
used to allow him privileges, as to suggest dishes; I have given him
information, as that someone had startled me in the reading-room by
slamming a door; I have shown him how I cut my finger with a piece
of string. William was none of your assertive waiters. We could have
plotted a murder safely before him. It was one member who said to him
that Saucy Sarah would win the Derby and another who said that Saucy
Sarah had no chance, but it was William who agreed with both. The
excellent fellow (as I thought him) was like a cheroot which may be
smoked from either end.

I date his lapse from one evening when I was dining by the window. I had
to repeat my order "Devilled kidney," and instead of answering brightly,
"Yes, sir," as if my selection of devilled kidney was a personal
gratification to him, which is the manner one expects of a waiter, he
gazed eagerly out at the window, and then, starting, asked, "Did you
say devilled kidney, sir?" A few minutes afterward I became aware that
someone was leaning over the back of my chair, and you may conceive my
indignation on discovering that this rude person was William. Let me
tell, in the measured words of one describing a past incident, what next
took place. To get nearer the window he pressed heavily on my shoulder.
"William," I said, "you are not attending to me!"

To be fair to him, he shook, but never shall I forget his audacious
apology, "Beg pardon, sir, but I was thinking of something else."

And immediately his eyes resought the window, and this burst from him
passionately, "For God's sake, sir, as we are man and man, tell me if
you have seen a little girl looking up at the club-windows."

Man and man! But he had been a good waiter once, so I pointed out the
girl to him. As soon as she saw William she ran into the middle of Pall
Mall, regardless of hansoms (many of which seemed to pass over her),
nodded her head significantly three times and then disappeared (probably
on a stretcher). She was the tawdriest little Arab of about ten years,
but seemed to have brought relief to William. "Thank God!" said he
fervently, and in the worst taste.

I was as muc