The manager should realize that the working force of a hotel is like the mechanism of a clock: it has to be wound occasionally and set going. No novice can operate this wonderful piece of mechanism; it requires a skilled mechanic.
The proprietor of a hotel should be a good loser; for there are periods of the year when the employes outnumber the guests, and the balance-sheet shows a heavy loss.
One of the most successful hotel men of the writer's acquaintance is Mr. Louis Reibold, formerly of the Bates House (now the Claypool), Indianapolis, Ind. Mr. Reibold's fame rests in his liberal, kindly treatment of his help. He never called them "help," but always referred to them as "employes." Reception, reading, and writing-rooms were furnished for their use, and he himself saw that good food was provided and that the tables were spread with clean, white table-cloths once a day.
He remembered his employes at Christmas, each one receiving a gold coin, some as much as $20.
When a girl in his employ lost her arm in a mangle, he presented her with a house and lot, provided her with ample means to furnish the house and to keep her the remainder of her lifetime.
Mr. Riebold is a multi-millionaire, and he has the admiration and love of every woman and man that ever worked for him.
Feeding and Rooming the Help.
Employes, such as housekeepers, clerks, cashiers, stenographers, stewards—though few stewards use the privilege—and bartenders, are permitted to take their meals in the main dining-room.