The Workers: An Experiment in Reality. The EastWyckoff, Walter A. (Walter Augustus)
History
The Workers: An Experiment in Reality. The East
Wyckoff, Walter A. (Walter Augustus)
Unemployed -- United States; Working class -- United States
It was at this work that I early found convincing proof of the
completeness of my social change. The lawns at certain hours are in
the possession of nurse-maids and infants. I have never calculated
the number of children in the hotel, but their ages apparently mark
every stage of advance from a few weeks to as many years. My liking
for children amounts to reverent devotion, and it gave me a shock,
from which I have not recovered, to find that, unshaven and uncouth in
workmen's clothes, I had become for them a bogey with whom their nurses
frighten them into obedience, warning them in excited tones with "Here
comes the man to take you away!"
It was at this work, too, that I once incurred the avowed displeasure
of a guest. She was a beautiful Philistine, with a keenly penetrating
twang and turns of speech that bespoke the regions of Sixth Avenue and
Fourteenth Street. But she was remarkably handsome, tall and graceful,
and of high-bred bearing and of a thoroughly aristocratic type. It must
be confessed that whenever she was visible from my regions the section
of the grounds which commanded a view of her, and was yet fairly
beyond the sound of her voice, received assiduous attention from me;
for she was highly remunerative to look at. I was sweeping a section
of the walk immediately in front of the hotel. Unlike the work at
West Point, a porter's duties do not preclude mental effort. Absorbed
in thought and quite unconscious of my surroundings, I was suddenly
recalled to them and to my station in life by nasal accents raised
in strong reproof. I looked up in bewilderment, and saw confronting
me the beautiful Philistine, holding a little child by each hand.
Very straight she stood and bright-eyed, with her head thrown back,
and an exquisite flush over her face, and her beautiful lips curled
in anger, as she scolded me roundly for raising so much dust. I was
unfamiliar with the etiquette of the situation, so I held my peace, and
respectfully touched my cap, inwardly calling her the beauty that she
was as she stood there, and ardently hoping that she would scold me
more.
[Illustration: I HELD MY PEACE, AND RESPECTFULLY TOUCHED MY CAP,
INWARDLY CALLING HER THE BEAUTY THAT SHE WAS.]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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