Fish Ordinary

Wednesday, January 9th., Cadogan Square, London.

A snowstorm with howling wind last night and through the night. I walked home from Dorothy's. Feeling of exhilaration despite conditions. There is life in the old dog yet! I looked out once or twice during the night. Snow falling. This morning same. Scraping of spades of cleaners of pavements rather exhilarating. I suppose this exhilaration may be due partly to the increased light due to the snow. But one has the same exhilaration from a very thick fog, especially if one has to go out in it. I remember as a youth in the Potteries walking about near my home in thick fogs and feeling that my world had been transformed. Sensation of difficulties to be conquered no doubt. Snow is now (10.30 am) beginning again, and I have to get to Cheapside. Will exhilaration continue? 

The Bone families (James and Muirhead) asked me to lunch with then at the "Fish Ordinary" at Simpson's in Cheapside. While we were chatting before the meal a waiter came along and protested: "You've missed Grace." We had. An old gentleman was in the chair, and he had risen and said Grace. He said Grace again at the end, and we listened respectfully then. The point of this Fish Ordinary (which is said to take place four times a week) is that at the end a big Cheshire Cheese is brought on and served round (by the Chairman) and after he has done this, the company, each member of it, guesses the height, girth, and weight of the cheese. If any one succeeds in all three, champagne and cigars are served all round, the winner gets a printed certificate of winning, and 'his name is put in the papers'. No one guessed either 1, 2, or 3 today. I was miles out.

At the end the Chairman has to tell a story, humorous. This old man comes gratis to each "ordinary" at present as the proprietor is ill. He carves each course if it has to be carved. There was hare soup, cod with oyster sauce, whitebait, jam roll and cheese. All was fine except the whitebait which was a bit soft. Then you sign your names in the book with 'remarks' if any. At the end the old Chairman, hearing that we were the Manchester Guardian lot, came and spoke to us and expressed his pleasure, he being an old printer. All this was mightily quaint. All highly old-world. Low ceiling; second floor. It seems to have established itself in 1723. The different rooms have names: "King's Room', 'Queen's Room' etc. A bar, or small lounge on ground floor. Many habitual 'frequenters' about. As far as I could learn the cheese had only been fully guessed, in 100 years, about 15 times. But three times in the last ten years. Waiters very nice but firm withal. They told us that cheesemongers came specially to guess, but were never anywhere near right in all three.

James Bone said that he took Don Marquis, the American writer, there and introduced him to the real Chairman (now ill) as an American from New York, whereupon the Chairman said that he was particularly glad to meet him as in his opinion America was our finest colony. Bone related this for a fact, implying that the Chairman had not yet heard of the independence of the USA. Marquis' response was not vouchsafed me.

Bone and his wife had been staying with Joseph Conrad. They said that he said, about "Riceyman Steps" - "It has always been Bennett militant; but this is Bennett victorious."