A Shock For Mr. Canby

Conversation was reduced to monosyllables as, miserable and apathetic, they sat thinking of the food they had sent back to Mr. Cone's kitchen with caustic comments, of the various dishes for which the chef of The Colonial was celebrated.

Mr. Stott thought that his watch must be slow until it was found that every other watch agreed with his exactly. He declared that when the cook did appear he meant to urge him to hurry breakfast.

The cook came out, finally, at seven-thirty, and, after a surprised glance at the row on the platforms, strode into the kitchen where he rattled the range as if it were his purpose to wreck it.

When the smoke rose from the chimney Mr. Stott went to the door to carry out his intention of asking the cook to speed up breakfast.

A large sign greeted him: DUDES KEEP OUT The cook was a gaunt, long-legged person with a saturnine countenance. He wore a seersucker coat with a nickel badge pinned on the lapel of it.

As an opening wedge Mr. Stott smiled engagingly and pointed to it: "For exceptional gallantry, I presume--a war medal?"

The hero stopped long enough to offer it for Mr. Stott's closer inspection.

It read: UNITED ORDER OF PASTRY COOKS OF THE WORLD Taken somewhat aback, Mr. Stott said feebly: "Very nice, indeed--er----"

"Mr. Hicks, at your service!" the cook supplemented, bowing formally.

"Hicks," Mr. Stott added.

"Just take a second longer and say 'Mister.'"