Rensselaer Republican, Volume 13, Number 6, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 29 October 1880 — The Hotel Clerk. [ARTICLE]

The Hotel Clerk.

Whatever good qualities the hotel clerk may possess, if he lacks courtesy he cannot succeed. The traveling public fa often rode, illbred, unreasonable, difficult to please, ungratful for kindness shown, and too ready to And fault on the highest provocation, yet such as it fa the traveling public supports the hotels, and very generally supports best those where its wants, whims and eccentricities are patiently borne with, and its wrath fa turned asjde with a soft answer. In no business does courtesy possess such a mercantile value as in the hotel: nowhere else can incivility result in such speedy and positive loes of income. Only those who have perfect self-control, and can merge their identity in their position, are fit to greet the public in a hotel office. Unfortunately too many clerks are deficient in this all-important qualification for the position they hold, yet we can see an improvement, as compared with the state of things a few years mo, and we Imps to see the day when any ounpfainteenCta head will be unnecessary. Self confident clerks are too ready to ignore the necessity for the constant and continual employment of the element of courtesy in their business. They do not, they will not, recognize how absolutely essential it is to success, but sooner or later they will learn to appreciate tbe truth of every line —every word that has been written on the sulgect.

Some people, says tbe San Francisco Poei, □ever seem to get the right idea of a subject somehow. They were talking at McAllister’s the other evening of the sufferings of the poor people turned out of doom by the recent hurricanes in the southern states when a bashful young mm with a green necktie, who was silently squirming on a straight back chair in a corner was asked how much exposure he thought it was possible for a human being to endure. “Exposure, mum? Tea, mum. Well, the most terrible instance of exposure]! ever knew was something that happened to myself a few years ago.” “Indeed ?” said a young lady, “tell us all about it” ’ ” “Well, you moat know, 1 had a great habit of walking ont through tbe park and strolling on the beach near the Cliff House. One Sunday morning very early I was tempted by the extreme heat to slip Into'.the surf and, take a hath, which, as there was no one around at that hoar, I finally did. Judge of my horror when I came out and found that tbe tide had risen and carried off my clothes.” “Ahem! "interrupted ths hostess.” “Worst —won’t you try some chocolate, Mr. Skidmore?” “Thanks —in a minute—jnst as soon as I flnfah my story. Yes, every stitch I had in the world was gone —everything except a chest protector, and I was forced to walk into Van Ness avenue, where I lived, with nothing in the world out that between me and the sneers of a heartless world. Fll tell yon how I managed. I jnst tied the pro—”

But just here one of the ladies fainted, while another, with great tact, sat down to the piano and shrieked “Nancy Lee” to the top of her longs, under cover of which the (lead and wounded were carried off, while the sincere bnt misguided young m«u was coaxed ont into tbe ball and handed his hat.

The Moquis.— The Moqnls Indians of Arizona, numbering seventeen handled, live in seven villages on the tope of three cliffk or headlands that rise more than six hundred fleet above the plains. Why they choee these unhandy places is a mystery. On ranching the villages, says a recent visitor, one finds one’s self on a flat ledge of bare rock, which extends out from the main table nearly half a mile In length and from ten to perhaps three hundred feet in width. The sides are almost psrpendicular. The most populous of these village*, Wal l»-pi, is on the extreme end of the rock, where the width is not over a mndred feet. The water for all purposes s carried on the backs of men ™ trocar.? Vom a spring near the foot of the mow ’ nin, a distance of nearly a mile, while t ► •"rood is brought eight miles Here tb people have lived longer than they can U even from their traditions; and hethec the/ have been averse to a change of kk~tion, notwithstanding the difficulty of obtaining their necessary supplies and the distance from their fields and herbs.