It would be almost impossible to record my impressions of the different
things that came to my notice for the first time in twenty-one years, as
I was driven from the hospital to the hotel.
While great progress had taken place in many lines during that time,
still after having had such a realistic mental picture of the wonders of
Sage-land stamped upon my mind, the new inventions, such as trolley
cars, automobiles, etc., which I had never seen before, seemed crude and
insignificant.
As I passed from street to street I could not fail to observe the great
disorder that prevailed everywhere, in the foremost city of the world.
In the first place, I was struck by the inharmonious and ragged
appearance of the buildings. Here was a tall skyscraper of nice white
marble thirty stories high, towering up into the clouds like a great
beanpole, while on one side of it was a squatty little two-story red
brick structure, and on the other side a six-story brown stone building,
the whole forming a most irregular and distracting appearance to the
eye. In other places, right in the heart of the city, and adjoining
well-designed buildings, were vacant lots inclosed by high ugly board
fences, on which were painted fantastic and ridiculous advertisements.
These defects, of course, could only be thoroughly remedied by putting
into force the logical economic principle of State ownership of all land
and buildings, instead of permitting the individual to do as he pleased
with property made valuable by the community.
The disarrangement of the buildings, however, merely typified the
incongruous and illogical disorganization of the people themselves. For
instance, here was a big, strong, well-fed fashionably groomed young
man, walking along the street, carrying no heavier burden than a light
walking stick, while just beside him was a half-starved old woman,
almost bent double under the weight of a large basket of clothes she had
washed for somebody else.
Then again, here were two big, strong men, perched upon the driver's
seat of a magnificent carriage, drawn by two great powerful horses, and
conveying about the city for recreation a dyspeptic lap-dog, while
trudging along the gutter in search of work or something to eat was a
weak, ill-fed, broken-down old man, who had, no doubt, given the best
years of his life to the actual labor which had increased the wealth of
the community.
Along the streets everywhere were dirty young boys of tender age, who
should have been at school or play, rushing madly in every direction,
trying to earn a few cents by the sale of newspapers, polishing shoes,
and acting as chore boys.
Little brass bands were scattered about here and there, braying forth
inharmoniously, and organ grinders and street piano players were rending
the air with bad music in return for a few pennies, thrown to them by
passing pedestrians.
Venders of fruit, shoe-strings, collar-buttons, and other light
merchandise were scattered along the sidewalks and gutters, trying to
earn a living by the sale of their wares, while beggars occasionally
stopped the more fortunate members of society with pathetic
importunities for money to buy bread.
Cabmen and horses were wasting the public power by standing idly about
waiting for engagements, or else driving aimlessly in all directions,
searching for patronage.
Wagons of every description were rushing about hither and thither in a
wretchedly unsystematic method of retail delivery, utilizing in many
cases the labor of two men and a team of horses to carry a small package
several miles distant.
Countless little retail merchants, with an incalculable force of
managers, clerks, book-keepers, errand boys, etc., were fairly throwing
away the public power in enormous quantities through the brainless
struggle of competitive trade.
All these imperfections could be extirpated by the abolition of the
money system, thought I, as the carriage came to a standstill in front
of a great brown stone edifice, and the driver announced that we had
reached our destination. The door of the carriage was swung open by a
uniformed employee, and, alighting therefrom, I was immediately ushered
into the main office of the leading institution of its kind in the
World--the Waldoria Hotel.
It was quite a new sensation for me to enter this great hostelry as a
guest, having spent the fore part of my life as a rough adventurer who
had never known the meaning of luxury or refinement. But still, somehow
or other, it always seemed natural for me to carry myself properly in
whatever position I happened to be placed, and on this occasion I felt
composed and at my ease as I entered and made known my identity to the
head clerk.
This pompous servant showed extraordinary affability and politeness
toward me, which caused me to wonder how I should have been received by
him had I been a shoemaker, a carpenter, or some other honest son of
toil, whose labor increases the wealth of the world, instead of a
moneyed gentleman of leisure and extravagance, as he evidently supposed
me to be.
"Your secretary has deposited five thousand dollars to your credit here,
Mr. Convert," said he, handing me a blank cheque book, "so if you will
kindly give me your signature for certification, you can then draw upon
that amount as you see fit."
In astonishment I was about to inform him that I had no secretary, and
that the money was not mine, when it occurred to me that perhaps
Arletta, or her agent, if she had one, must have pretended to be my
secretary. So I said nothing and did as requested.
Upon being shown to my apartments, a handsomely furnished suite of two
rooms and a bath, upon the tenth floor, I was further amazed to find
therein a trunk, two dress-suit cases, a traveling bag, and six suits of
fine clothes, made in different styles, from an evening dress to a sack
business suit. And the bedstead, tables and bureaus were literally
covered with articles, such as a bath-robe, pajamas, underwear, shirts,
collars, cuffs, gloves, hats, shoes, etc., all brand new and marked
"John Convert." Upon the dressing case was a small jewel box, containing
several kinds of gold cuff buttons, diamond scarf pins, and a solid gold
watch, on the inside of which was inscribed, "From Arletta to John."
It took some time for me to get over the wonderment into which I was
plunged at the sight of these things, and the contemplation of how far
Arletta intended going before ceasing her benevolent acts towards me,
but after spending an hour or two in becoming accustomed to my
surroundings and putting the various articles away into the bureaus and
wardrobes, I decided to make a general survey of the entire hotel
premises.
I learned that the Waldoria Hotel was thirty stories high, and covered
an entire block in the most fashionable district in New York City. In
many ways it resembled a small city in itself, containing a bank,
theatre, music hall, photograph gallery, art studio, gymnasium, laundry,
electric plant, Turkish baths, tonsorial apartments, brokers' offices,
library, and various ball-rooms, besides four different restaurants, two
cafes, and several reception and smoking rooms for the use of its
patrons.
The entire roof of the building was utilized as a promenade and summer
garden for musical entertainments.
The hotel could accommodate about three thousand guests, who occupied
apartments, the rentals of which cost from three to one hundred and
fifty dollars per day. About two thousand employees were necessary to
keep the establishment in good running order. Each floor had a separate
clerk and corps of attendants, and nobody could gain admission to any of
the apartment floors except the occupants and their guests.
All of the apartments of the hotel, from the magnificent "Royal Suite"
to the single bedrooms of the transients, were furnished in the most
luxurious manner possible. Costly draperies, priceless paintings, and
exquisite furnishings of every description, adorned the drawing-rooms,
ball-rooms, foyers and restaurants. Statues of ancient personages
ornamented the different hallways, while the carved marble and woodwork
seen everywhere showed splendid workmanship. Sweet strains of music from
the orchestras stationed in different balconies could be heard in most
any part of the building.
Seated on either side of the long, commodious corridors, on lounges
overhung by palms and tropical plants of various descriptions, were men
and women of the fashionable set, who represented the largest portion of
wealth of the community.
The women with their low-cut gowns, highly perfumed, and weighted down
with jewels of every kind, formed a brilliant spectacle that was
bewitching and bewildering to behold. They vied with one another in the
display of their gorgeous gowns and jewels, with the desire to impress
upon each other thereby the wealth they possessed and the position they
held in society. In fact, wealth seemed to be the predominant feature of
their whole existence.
Beautiful young women scarcely out of their teens, could be seen paying
all of their attentions to decrepit, bald-headed old men of apparent
opulence, while on the other hand, young and athletic looking men were
courting women old enough to be their grandmothers. In either case, the
young were quite willing to sell their persons for wealth. These
unnatural facts plainly demonstrated to what depths the human being,
will go in an endeavor to secure money, or the power derived therefrom.
In the restaurants, the most criminal extravagance was practiced by
these moneyed people, in many cases the costly viands and high-priced
wines ordered being only partly consumed, and the remainder left to be
thrown into the waste barrel. In fact, it appeared that the individual's
importance was gauged by the amount of money he could spend, and men who
no doubt in a great many cases squeezed the pennies from the poor
laboring classes through their different financial methods of
confiscation, thought nothing of spending from five to fifty dollars for
a single meal.
In short, I found the Waldoria Hotel to be a sort of a heavenly place,
infested principally by hellish beings-a welcome nest for people with
money but a very unwelcome place for persons who had none. It made
absolutely no difference how people got their money as long as they had
it.
The stone masons, iron-workers, carpenters, painters, plumbers and other
laborers who built the beautiful edifice were not allowed inside of it.
The furniture makers, carpet and tapestry weavers, interior decorators,
etc., through whose skill the hotel was made grand, were not permitted
to enjoy the magnificence of their own creation. But owing to the stupid
money system, which these laborers them selves help to keep in force,
the results of their combined efforts were either usurped by an
unproductive class fortunate enough to be born rich, or those shrewd
enough to accumulate money, such as trust managers, bankers, real estate
speculators, stock jobbers, and brokers, gamblers, burglars, money loan
swindlers, high salaried clergymen, etc.