The Member's Bar

A proper bar is meant to be stood at, not sat in front of. Talk comes easier when your words spring from a posture you invent as you sip, aided by one of civilization's convivial accommodations, the brass foot rail. In the Member's Bar, a palpable tradition is quite simply the conversational spirit of the place; the camaraderie that spills toward you when you walk into the room and hear someone call your name or invite you to roll the dice for drinks and a game of chance called "Horse." (Named for the sound of dice clattering along the bar top?)

What better place to hang the Twelfth Night photographs above paneled walls, to enjoy the good-natured luncheon kidding at the short table or to have a drink with friends beneath that huge gilt-framed oil?