It was with difficulty that we made him understand
that there was a limit to capacity, and that he had fed us
with such bountiful hand we could eat no more. Even
now when we go to Coppa's we have a little feeling of
fear lest we offend him by not eating enough to con-
vince him that we are pleased.
39
BOHEMIAN
Coppa's walls were always adorned with strange
conceits of the artists and writers who frequented his
place, and after a picture, or a bit of
SANG verse had remained until it was too
THE SWAN familiar some one erased it and re-
SOXG placed it wdth something he thought
was better. We preserved one writ-
ten by an unknown Bohemian. We give it just as it was :
Through the fog of centuries, dim and dense,
I sometimes seem to see
The shadowy line of a back-yard fence
And a feline shape of me.
I hear the growl, and yowl and howl
Of each nocturnal fight,
And the throaty stir, half cry, half purr
Of passionate delight,
As seeking an amorous rendezvous
My ancient brothers go stealing
Through the purple gloom of night.
I've seen your eyes, with a greenish glint;
You move with a feline grace;
And when you are pleased I catch the hint
Of a purr in your throat and face.
Then I wonder if you are dreaming, too,
Of temples along the Nile,
Where you yowled and howled, and loved and prowled,
\Vith many a sensuous wile.
And borrowed the grace you own today
From that other life in the far-away;
And if such dreams beguile.
I know that you sit by your cozy fire,
When shadows crowd the room.
And my soul responds to an old desire
To roam through the velvet}' gloom,
So stealthily stealing, softly shod.
My spirit is hurrying thence
To the lure of an ancient mystic god,
W^hose magnet is intense.
Where I know your soul, too, roams in fur.
For I hear it call witli a throaty purr,
From the shadowy back-yard fence.
SAN FRANCISCO
San Francisco's care-free spirit was fully exem-
plified before the ashes of the great fire of 1906 were
cold. On every hand one could find
little eating places established in the BOHEMIA
streets, some made of abandoned OF THE
boxes, others of debris from the PIU^SENT
burned buildings, and some in vacant
basements and little store rooms, while a few enterpris-
ing individuals improvised wheeled dining rooms and
went from one part of the city to another serving meals.
The vein of humor of irrepressible eft'ervescence of
spirit born of Bohemianism gave to these eating places
high sounding names, and many were covered with
witty signs which laughed in the face of Fate.
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It was with difficulty that we made him understand
that there was a limit to capacity, and that he had fed us
with such bountiful hand we could eat no more. Even
now when we go to Coppa's we have a little feeling of
fear lest we offend him by not eating enough to con-
vince him that we are pleased.
39
BOHEMIAN
Coppa's walls were always adorned with strange
conceits of the artists and writers who frequented his
place, and after a picture, or a bit of
SANG verse had remained until it was too
THE SWAN familiar some one erased it and re-
SOXG placed it wdth something he thought
was better. We preserved one writ-
ten by an unknown Bohemian. We give it just as it was :
Through the fog of centuries, dim and dense,
I sometimes seem to see
The shadowy line of a back-yard fence
And a feline shape of me.
I hear the growl, and yowl and howl
Of each nocturnal fight,
And the throaty stir, half cry, half purr
Of passionate delight,
As seeking an amorous rendezvous
My ancient brothers go stealing
Through the purple gloom of night.
I've seen your eyes, with a greenish glint;
You move with a feline grace;
And when you are pleased I catch the hint
Of a purr in your throat and face.
Then I wonder if you are dreaming, too,
Of temples along the Nile,
Where you yowled and howled, and loved and prowled,
\Vith many a sensuous wile.
And borrowed the grace you own today
From that other life in the far-away;
And if such dreams beguile.
I know that you sit by your cozy fire,
When shadows crowd the room.
And my soul responds to an old desire
To roam through the velvet}' gloom,
So stealthily stealing, softly shod.
My spirit is hurrying thence
To the lure of an ancient mystic god,
W^hose magnet is intense.
Where I know your soul, too, roams in fur.
For I hear it call witli a throaty purr,
From the shadowy back-yard fence.
SAN FRANCISCO
San Francisco's care-free spirit was fully exem-
plified before the ashes of the great fire of 1906 were
cold. On every hand one could find
little eating places established in the BOHEMIA
streets, some made of abandoned OF THE
boxes, others of debris from the PIU^SENT
burned buildings, and some in vacant
basements and little store rooms, while a few enterpris-
ing individuals improvised wheeled dining rooms and
went from one part of the city to another serving meals.
The vein of humor of irrepressible eft'ervescence of
spirit born of Bohemianism gave to these eating places
high sounding names, and many were covered with
witty signs which laughed in the face of Fate.