The Communistic Societies of the United States: From Personal Visit and ObservationNordhoff, Charles
History
The Communistic Societies of the United States: From Personal Visit and Observation
Nordhoff, Charles
Collective settlements -- United States
The hotel is one of the largest houses in the place; it is of two
stories, with spacious bed-chambers, high ceilings, roomy fire-places,
large halls, and a really fine dining-room, all scrupulously clean. It
was once, before the days of railroads, a favorite stopping-place on one
of the main stage routes out of Pittsburgh; in the well-built stable and
barns opposite there was room for twenty or thirty horses; the
dining-room would seat a hundred people; and here during many years was
a favorite winter as well as summer resort for Pittsburghers, and an
important source of income to the Economists.
When I for the first time entered the sitting-room on a chilly December
morning, the venerable but active landlord was dusting chairs and
tables, and looked up in some amazement at the intrusion of a traveler.
"I can stay here, I suppose," said I, by way of introduction; and was
answered: "That depends upon how long you want to stay. We don't take
people to board here." My assurance that I meant to remain but two or
three days, and that I had been recommended by Mr. Henrici, the head of
the society, secured me a room; and the warning, as I went out for a
walk, that I must be in by half-past eleven, promptly, to dine; and by
half-past four for supper, because other people had to eat after me, and
ought not to be kept waiting by reason of my carelessness. "For which
reason," added the landlord, "it would be well for you to come in and be
at hand a quarter of an hour before the times I have mentioned." When I
had dined and supped and slept, I saw what a loss to Pittsburghers was
the closing of the Economy hotel; for the Harmonists live well, and are
substantial eaters in their German fashion. Nor was any ceremony omitted
because of the fewness of guests; and old Joseph, the butler and
head-waiter, who, as he told me, came to serve here fifty years ago, and
is now seventy-eight years old, attended upon my meals arrayed in a
scrupulously white apron, ordered the lass who was his subordinate, and
occasionally condescended to laugh at my jokes, as befitted his place,
with as much precision and dignity as when, thirty or forty years ago,
he used to serve a houseful of hungry travelers.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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