Rensselaer Union and Jasper Republican, Volume 8, Number 37, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 1 June 1876 — Parisian Swindling. [ARTICLE]

Parisian Swindling.

A Paris letter to the Philadelphia Telegraph says-. It is an unfortunate fact—unfortunate for the traveling public at large, I mean—that Americans are usually so ready to submit to the swindles and extortions of Parisian hotel-keepers. Of course it is not pleasant, when tne trunks are packed and the carriage is at the d oor, to be called upon to miss a train in order to set right some comparatively trifling overcharge in the Just-rendered bill, ana so the amount is paid, and the hotelkeeper rejoices in his successful roguery. Occasionally my fellow-countrymen rebel. as in one instance that came to my knowledge, where a lady, having spilled a little ink on the carpet of her bed-room, found the price of a new carpet added to her bill. In vain did she call attention to the fact that the spot was but a small one, and that the carpet was but a miserable, worn, threadbare concern, that could last but a short time longer at best. Her host grow insulting, and talked of the police, etc., and so the lady gave in and consented to pay. But the day she left the hotel she walked quietly out, purchased a quart bottle of ink, and, returning to her room, she deluged the carpet from end to end. “ You shall not make two carpets out of me,” was her comment to the exasperated hotel-keeper. On another occasion, an American gentleman was compelled to pay for a large looking-glass which had a small crack in one corner, the crack having existed when he engaged the room, but he, being unused to the wiles and wickedness of foreign inns, had never thought of calling attention to it. He paid his bill without a word, but he shattered the mirrdr into minute fragments before he left the house.

The worst form of swindle, however, is that which is practiced upon persons who lake furnished apartments in Paris. Many French people, and especially French women, make a comfortable living by hiring apartments on long leases, furnishing them, and then renting them out to foreigners. The price is always sufficiently high, being generally twice the rent of an unfurnished apartment of the same size and style. One would think that such charges would cover any ordinary wear and tear of the furniture, but such is not the idea of your Parisian proprietaire. On the contrary, whenever the tenant is about to depart, a furniture expert, armed with an inventory, takes possession of the premises. Every scratch, bruise, or crack, every missing nail or spavined chair-back is set down in the bill at a price varying from one franc to six. Every piece of china that is nicked or defaced, no matter how slightly, must "bepaid for at its full retail value. 4s the furniture is never perfectly new, and as the unwary tenant seldom or never thinks of having an inventory of the cracks, holes, scratches and spots taken when he or she moves in, the same defects are generally paid for some five or six times over at the very least. Then th* expert always receives twenty per cent, on the charges, so it is for his interest to run up as large a bill as possible. The sums thus extorted vary from S6OO to SSO, according to the elegance of the furniture and the length of time that the apartment has been occupied. I know of one instance where the tenant, by the terms of his lease, was obliged to put all the kitchen utensils in perfect order before leaving. He did so, and when he came to settle, a bill of $lO for damages to the kitchen was rendered. “ Where are the damages?” he asked the expert, in high indignation. That individual sought high and low in the perfectly-or-ganized room tor a single injured article. Finally, in a corner he espied a small tin-dipper, somewhat bent and worn with use. “ There," lie cried, triumphantly, holding it up to the light, “ Very good,” made answer the American, coolly; “I paid ten cents for that thing when I first came here, and I will replace it, if you like, at the same price.” One lady, on hiring a furnished apartment, found in one corner of her saloon a small table covered with red cloth, so dirty and worn that she sent it up to a lumber-room to get it out of the way. When she left she was forced to pay six dollars for “ soiling the table.” As the wisest of the American correspondents abroad once remarked to me: “You may hire an unfurnished apartment, furnish it, and live in it for two years; at the end of that time, if you take your furniture down to the court-yard, break it up and burn it, you will have spent less than by living in furnished apartments.”