I met Johnnie in Havana in October, 1898. If I remember rightly the
U.S.S. _Resolute_ and the U.S.S. _Scorpion_ were in the harbour,
but beyond these two terrible engines of destruction there were not as
yet any of the more stern signs of the American success. Many Americans
were to be seen in the streets of Havana where they were not in any way
molested. Among them was Johnnie in white duck and a straw hat, cool,
complacent and with eyes rather more steady than ever. I addressed him
upon the subject of his supreme failure, but I could not perturb his
philosophy. In reply he simply asked me to dinner. "Come to the Café
Aguacate at 7:30 to-night," he said. "I haven't been there in a long
time. We shall see if they cook as well as ever." I turned up promptly
and found Johnnie in a private room smoking a cigar in the presence of
a waiter who was blue in the gills. "I've ordered the dinner," he said
cheerfully. "Now I want to see if you won't be surprised how well they
can do here in Havana." I was surprised. I was dumfounded. Rarely in
the history of the world have two rational men sat down to such a
dinner. It must have taxed the ability and endurance of the entire
working force of the establishment to provide it. The variety of dishes
was of course related to the markets of Havana, but the abundance and
general profligacy was related only to Johnnie's imagination. Neither
of us had an appetite. Our fancies fled in confusion before this
puzzling luxury. I looked at Johnnie as if he were a native of Thibet.
I had thought him to be a most simple man, and here I found him
revelling in food like a fat, old senator of Rome's decadence. And if
the dinner itself put me to open-eyed amazement, the names of the wines
finished everything. Apparently Johnny had had but one standard, and
that was the cost. If a wine had been very expensive, he had ordered
it. I began to think him probably a maniac. At any rate, I was sure
that we were both fools. Seeing my fixed stare, he spoke with affected
languor: "I wish peacocks' brains and melted pearls were to be had here
in Havana. We'd have 'em." Then he grinned. As a mere skirmisher I
said, "In New York, we think we dine well; but really this, you
know--well--Havana----"