The Savannah morning news. (Savannah, Ga.) 1900-current, 1904-12-25
By JULIUS w. MULLER.

Velled criticisms of what we were try
ing to order.
Conscious of Our Position.
Our wives are really conscious of
the whole patronizing atmosphere. OF
course, they blame us for it. They
would be finely indignant if we were
TO explain to them in clear and
simple way that the situation is due
to the subtle something that tells door
boy, walters and guests that we are
Middle Class-that, for us, to dine
in restaurants is an occasion; and that
we usually dine at home, and are
served by the same solitary girl of
all work who has previously cooked
the dinner, and who will presently
wash the dishes.
Middle Glass;" our wives would
say. I'VE would have you under
stand that we are as good as any
body here!" And so we are. But
we are Middle Glass Just the same,
and we can deny our nativity over
and over again, as our wives always
would do, and yet everybody recog-
nizes us at once.
Go to some restaurant not so styl-
ish. you say? Alas! Restaurants,
which are all essentially Middle Glass
in origin and calling, have, like most
of us of the Middle Glass, become
ashamed of it. They all pretend to
something higher" There isn't a
good eating place or a good any other
place where the Duke of Oxide of
Zinc or the Baron of Hoof Jelly-the
modern Upper Glass of the last gen.
erations wordsworth go in his hun
ger for something new" And after
single specimen of the Upper Glass
has once entered a Middle Glass
ho la
it. like the footsteps of a large
thoughtful COW in a soft meadow.
Submerged by the Upper Class.
In vain our wives point to the no.
torious fact that the Duke of Oxide
of Zinc and the Baron of Hoof Jelly
were not even Middle Glass once, but
that their family trees were rooted
in mire and gave shade to novels.
They are the nobility now, and they
spend their time submerging us.
They know better than to haunt
themselves on the stamping grounds
of the classes from which they sprang.
These would rise in their mirey in
dependence and decorate them with
their own peculiar orders of class
Whenever they drive automobiles
through the streets of their youth,
they emerge with chariots hung with
SO the Upper Glass disports itself
among us. 1t knows that we are too
Middle Glass TO resent with violence
the corruption of our walters, our
servants and our tradesmen.
No Way of Escape.
We can't escape by running away
to a lower level ourselves. Beyond
us is the jumping-off place. We es-
cape from the boulevards where our
Middle Glass bearing marks us as
fair victims for the motor car, to the
side streets where that same bearing
marks us as aristocrats and tempts
ready missiles of wit and denser ma
terial. There is no Middle Street
for us.
Or we go to a hotel-an ordinary
hotel of the kind that is turned out
apparently by the gross in America
where the carpets are eloquent his
tories of the feet of past generations;
where the woodwork is of that SOM
bre hue which exists only in hotels;
where the plaster walls are painted,
and not by Michel Angelo, either;
where the windows look forth on
square court in which bloom masses
of tin cans, waste paper and other
familiar and favorite examples of
American hotel Horticulture.
Discovered on the Spot.
AS soon as the clerk looks at us, we
realize that we are discovered. The
stern demand that we intended to
make for the best room in the house
at the regular rate, becomes the usual
hesitating plea for "the best you can
do" And even as he reaches for the
key we know, writing inwardly, that
we are going to be sent to the Middle
Class room.
Our quiet valise. our quiet dress. our
quiet manners are all against us
everywhere. If we could only swag-
ger to the desk with a frayed cigar
held MOSTLY ir the angle of our
mouths, and could slap that clerk on
the back and address him Familiarity
as "old man." we would get the best
room at once. even If our coat were
greasy, our linen quite beyond the ben
eft of reasonable doubt and our hat
essentially unsanitary. Or we would
get it if we leaped from an automobile
and called masterfully for the porter
to carry four ounces of baggage for
us.
No Room I'm Lower Levels.
The clerk is Middle Class like our
selves and is open only to the supe-
riority OF the automobile man or to
the familiarity of the man who tries
to wheedle him. thus pleasing him by
showing that he is under the clerks
class.
Nor could we do better IL we went
to cheap hotel. If the Prince of OK
ide goes to one, all hands will be par
alyzed by the unexpected honor. But
If we go to one il is simply impudence.
The porter won't even take our bag
gage. Bless you, they can all see Mid
die Glass in us the moment they set
eyes on us.
And We have tried the grand hotels
those marble and gold affairs where
they have Peacock Lanes and Palm
Rooms and perfumed fountains and
divorces. Barely have we entered be-
fore the bell boy explains 10 us kindly
that we are heading for the wrong
corridor. The porter lifts our bag
gage with the same suspicious air