Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1894-01-26
A "NEw LEISURE CLASS"

A NEW LEISURE GLASS;"
How 1t Originates and How 1t Oper-
ates.
From the New York Evening Post
An investigation of the city's cheap lodg-
Ing houses reveals some interesting facts
about those who use them, especially i'm
these hard times. They are particularly a
New York institution. Boston, PHILADELPHIA
ana Baltimore have. to be sure a few places
where the almost destitute wayfarer may
be accommodated on the payment Of Is to
p cents. but they offer few inducements
beyond a nights rest. The New York lodg-
Ing house, on the contrary, has some of the
features Of a regular club. Large we'll
lighted rooms, supplied with the daily pa
pers. cards. chess and checker boards
oominoes. &c, are found in nearly all of
them. There is also an Office, in which an
a1able clerk is found on duty twen.y-four
hours day. There are also baths lava
tories. &c, with a plentiful supply of hot and
cold water, soap. towels and backing
brushes
The Bowery is the home of the lodging
house, though there are many scattered
about the city up as far as Harlem, and the
business being an exceedingly profitable one,
their number is constantly increasing 1t
Is mistake to suppose the lodging house
is the abode of the tramp That there are
places where such persons can find a lodg-
ing upon the payment of a small sum is
true, but they do not frequent the lodging
houses. They are not wanted either by the
proprietors or guests. The chief patron of
the lodging house is the chevalier d'indus-
trie. age anywhere from twenty to sixty,
the m "A iorifV heipo ar1
do not affect his calling. nor do financial
stringencies diminish his income He is in
variably decently dressed, and If ever he
misses meal. it is not for the reason that
the meal is not waiting for him.
A conversation with one of them gives a
fair idea of how they live. He was a mid
dle-aged man with the appearance of a
clerk. After preliminary talk he told the
story of his life.
II was born here in New York." he said
forty-four years ago. AT fifteen l was put
at work and learned a trade. For twenty
hve years, or up to my fortieth year, I
stuck to it and never expected to do any
thing else. l had, of course, such amuse-
mentS as the average workingman has, and
was, / suppose. contented with my lot.
lived with an old widow lady who was just
like mother to me, and beyond being
Unfortunately fond of reading, / was, / have
no doubt, just like any of the horny handed
sons Of toll in the city here / never had
the faculty Of saving money. and when four
years ago l was seized with inflammatory
rheumatism l was Obliged to go to a hos
pital l stayed there two months. During
my stay my landlady died. and / drifted in
here. i had never even so much as heard of
a lodging house before. but the life suited
me and l soon got to like it. Man is a
gregarious animal, and when one is lone
some, as l was, there is an indesc-ibable
charm about such a place this. / fell
in with an old fellow who had some very
queer ideas about life-that Is, they were
queer to me then. He thought this country
lacked one great charm, and that was a lei
sure class such as is to be found in every
country of Europe. 1t didn't take him long
to convince me that he was right in every
of his disciples To me it seemed a fine
thing to have nothing to do ard all day in
which to do it. l had little money when
came, but l never had much.
Questioning ME one day as to the
amount of my earnings. found, upon COM
putation, that my average wages for my
twenty-five years of labor were about IS
week. Well said the old gentleman, 1t
Will be no trouble for you to get at least
that much without working, and. mind you,
an income of s. week without being
obliged to work for it is great deal more
than the same amount gained by labor--a
fact which l have often found to be true.
l then entered a regular course of tuition
under his guidance, and after a short time
was able to go without assistance. My
lodging cost Sl.iO week, and my board s.,
y.
1 take only two now, and my dinner costs
me nothing. 1 have few hundred dollars
put by. and have ample time TO indulge
my taste for reading, and in the four years
that l have lived in this way / have en-
joyed myself"
Then you make your living, as you call
it. by begging?" was asked.
That is about the truth Of it, i have
certain number of places to go to regularly.
l am well known in them all, and my pen
sion,' which varies in amount from fifty
cents 10 81, is paid to me without ques-
tion.
You never beg on the streets, them
Never; would die first
Are there many engaged in the same
vocation?"
Yes. the leisure class as my old friend
called us, is constantly being recruited but
it is case where many are called, but few
chosen
How is that
We'll, as in other walks. especially of
professional life, while there is plenty of
room at the top, there is none al all at the
bottom
What particular qualifications do you
consider requisite for success in the call
ing?
knowledge of the world suavity of man.
ners, nerve and patience. In short, just
what goes to make up the successful man
in any business"
About how many of you are there i'm
New York at present.
II haven't any idea, but should think the
number not far from 10,0H."'
viii the hard times tend to increase the
number"
Undoubtedly
'"Then ii will ultimately be a more diff
cult matter TO collect your pension'?''
II don't think SO. 1t will be simply
question of the survival of the fittest.'
What class OF men drift into this sort of
life?''
"All classes, speaking generally. i should
say professional insists, or men who have
piSfo lion, har
men who have left home on account of pa
rental restraint, and men who have gone
wrong matrimonially, also furnish a great
number. Petty thieves, gamblers and that
sort of people, contrary to the general opin-
ion, form very small minority"