The Anaconda standard. [volume] (Anaconda, Mont.) 1889-1970, 1898-04-02


ly diversified nature.
In the cold gray of the morning when
the milkman In turning homeward and
the brewery wagons are lined In pro-
cession on the he starts out.
The midnight ~reveller is returning to
sleep all day, and the festive burglar,
kit under arm, Is Fastening to a place
of safety. for IL In now the hour of 6.
Porters are sweeping the walk in front
of his hotel: marketmen are delivering
their products. and away up In the top
of the house an early guest has turned
the light on preparatory TO a hasty de-
parture. The night clerk Is in charge
OF the Office. n the night force OF
bellboys is nodding sleepily, on the
bench waiting to be relieved. Break
fast is the first thing. The clerk must
eat while he has time: he may be too
busy later on. After breakfast there
Is the business of the previous night
to be locke over; the register must be
studied: the arrival of steamships
must be read. because their informa-
ton will be needed. The weather re-
port must be inspected with care. for
| what clerk wants to be n poor wealth
er prophet? AT last s o'clock comes,
and the corridor Is filled with people.
a boy in uniform rushes up and throws
down n heavy leather bag. He is the
special mail carrier for the hotel. The
clerk gets a key n takes the bag with
reluctance. for he knows that he Is To
be an object of suspicion for h rest
of the das. Letters, paCKasSf. ne vs.
papers ar-a circulars musi all be DIS
tributed. but where, The man who
traces an illegible scrawl on the regis
ter expects to be remembered irs., ana
the woman who did not register, but
slept i'm her sisters room. is sure that
her letters have been mislaid. IL ake
a world Of explanation and a fair
amount Of luck to get safely away
from the mail bag. and when this has
been done another delivery follows on
the heels ~ the first. Quaint-looking
postage stamps dance along ndulating
lines of cancellation in the dreams or
the mail clerk. and hideous black post
marks range themselves above his
couch of sleep. He is the custodian OF
many secrets. He alone knows the al
dresses Of many men. n he never
betrays them. The hotel Is a postof-
flee for thousands while they live. and
the clerk receives letters for them long
after they are dead.
The morning is nearly gone now.
Books have been posted. accounts have
been written up and checked OF, ques-
tions have been answered, letters nave
been dictated and the office has been
prepared for the business of the day,
which, by the way, does not begin uhtli
night. The clock strikes noon and the
clerk stops. The pen drops from his
fingers to be picked up by a man who
belongs to the afternoon watch.
But the clerk does not hurry away
to keep an appointment at a ! or
TO see part of a vaudeville show, his
time is 10 valuable. The night - COM
ing, when he will be in create de-
mand even han he was during the
day. He goes home, as far from ho-
tells and crowds as he can, and either
smokes a pipe I'm peace or lies down for
a brief nap of al hour or so, to con-
serve his strength for the night rush.
That is. when his work really begins.
The other happenings of the day only
serve to prepare the clerk for what is
to come, when the lamps are lighted
and the rush and hustle % the day be-
gin.
The closest attention is necessary in
the assignment of rooms. 1t is a mis-
take to put a timid woman near The
top of the house; II is also a mistake
to separate college students n people
who are travelling together. The clerk
often find this out long after the error
has been made or when a rearrange-
ment of rooms is very difficult. Per-
haps his greatest value lies in his abil-
ity to detect at first glance any pecu-
liarity on the part of a coming guest
that may create future trouble for the
hotel. Some people come for business
purposes, some come to live perma-
nently, others arrive to pursue a line
Of indulgence that will win for them a
diploma i'm a Kelley institute. A few
come to throw aside the cares and sor-
rows of life. They commit suicide
without any more regard for damage
done to their rooms than for damage
to the reputation of the house. The
clerk is the confidant of strangers with
schemes. He can get things free for
the use of his influence. Shares and
stocks and bonds, pointers and tips and
building lots all come his way. The
man who owns a mine OF electric rock
is his friend; the inventor of a new rail-
way coupler is his chum, and the maker
of a new brand of cigars is his bosom
companion. He does not have to seek
the friendship of the heir to an undi
vided estate; II comes to him naturally.
All he has to do is to cash the checks.
The register is in constant demand
Some of the people who take a whirl
at IL are guests eager to scribble their
names, get a room and hustle to sleep.
Others are merely loungers who look
over the list of names from sheer habit
n curiosity and to give out an APP
pearance of having some business In
the hotel. The woman with the dog
which must be cared for comes to both
err the clerk and the men from the coun-
try with their coats covered with
badges of an agricultural society in
sist on having adjoining rooms lest
some sharper get in between them and
get away with all h funds. Travel
ing men, well dressed and prosperous
looking. drift up to h desk, shake
hands with the clerk n hand over
little packets of diamonds or money to
be put away in the safe. People look
ing for lost relatives, newspaper mer
seeking To interview famous arrivals
i'm the city. 'touchers" who want TO dt
"A few hours work for a nights lodg
ing, al. go against the clerk n after
another and for each he has an answer
and a glad word.
The hours creep along toward mid
night and the rush lessons with ths
feeting moments until at last every
body is asleep or at least quiet. Ant
when the witching hour of ~ comes a
last the clerk gives way To the nigh'
clerk and hurries home, tired out II
body and mind. but having either mad
a friend through the day or having
cemented a friendship with somebody
- AZ NHllI M