"Perhaps you're right, Abe," Morris said. "Perhaps it is better that a lump sum like two million francs would be charged rather as go into the items themselves, because, for instance, if that American mission to negotiate peace had been staying at the hotel which we stayed at, Abe, a bill would have been submitted like this, Abe:
"MM. American Mission to Negotiate Peace
To Hotel se'Escroquerie et Londres, Dr.
Terms, net cash 800 rooms; 8 baths
Tel.: 6060 Rivoli
| March, 1919: To entertaining MM. Orlando and Sonnino, as follows: | |||||
| Table overturned and following articles broken: | |||||
| 1 inkstand and mucilage-bottle. | Fr. | 24.50 | |||
| 1 table-cover damaged by mucilage. | 45.00 | ||||
| Chairs injured as follows: | |||||
| 1 light chair thrown through window. | 58.00 | ||||
| 1 heavy chair thrown through window. | 85.00 | ||||
| Labor as follows: | |||||
| Sweeping up broken eye-glasses. | 2.00 | ||||
| Sweeping up hair. | 3.00 | ||||
| Removing blood-stains from carpet. | 4.50 | ||||
| Credit: | |||||
| By one unclaimed hat, labeled 'Mike, the Popular Rome Hatter'. | .20 | ||||
| Total | Fr. | 382.40 | |||
and not only would it have given away a whole lot of diplomatic secrets, but the American mission would also have got to pay a luxury tax of ten per cent. on the hotel's telephone number and a little mistake of a hundred francs in the addition."
"But this here Hotel Crillon was a strictly first-class hotel, Mawruss," Abe said, "and with strictly first-class hotels it's the same in Europe as it is in this country, Mawruss; the rates are so fixed that it ain't necessary for the management to make mistakes in the bill, while the accounting department always figures the overhead so as to include the hotel's telephone number, the number of the guest's room, and, in the case of mountain-resort hotels, the altitude of the hotel above sea-level."
"Well, that's just what I am driving into, Abe," Morris said. "Even when hotel bills are submitted weekly and the management has got his signed checks to show for it, Abe, nobody never realizes that he owes all that money to a hotel, y'understand, and when at the end of the peace commission's tenancy the hotel management sends in its final bill, Abe, there's going to be considerable argument between Mr. Joseph Grew, the secretary of the commission, and all them Peace Conferencers, expert and otherwise, as to who ordered what and when, y'understand, which I see by the newspapers, Abe, that Mr. Grew has already begun an investigation about who authorized the serving of one hundred bottles tchampanyer wine on June 14th, and if Mr. Grew couldn't trace the party which signed for one hundred bottles tchampanyer wine on June 14th, y'understand, what chance does he have of finding out who is responsible for each and every one of the hundreds of checks with illegible signatures which is bound to show up in the final accounting for such articles as scrambled eggs, bacon, and coffee, which any Peace Conferencers might have signed for, whether his home town was in a dry state or not, Abe."
"And Mr. Grew wouldn't get no sympathy from the President, neither, Mawruss," Abe said, "which, when the morning mail arrives at the White House nowadays just as Mr. Wilson is saying to Mrs. Wilson, 'Some coffee, mommer!'—because the average American has got to be home from Europe at least a month before a good cup of coffee ceases to become a miracle, Mawruss—it won't take more than two letters from Mr. Grew asking Mr. Wilson does he remember whether at the conference between him, Clemenceau, Lord George, Venezuelas, and Baron Ishii, held in Parlor A on March 22d, did or did not somebody order a rye-bread tongue sandwich and a split of Evian water, and if so to please sign inclosed check for same, non pro tunc as of March 22d, 1919, understand me, before the only effect an envelope addressed in the handwriting of Mr. Grew will have on Mr. Wilson is that he is going to throw it unopened into the waste-paper basket without so much as saying, 'I wonder what that schlemiel wants from me now.'"
"As a matter of fact, Abe, the price of food 'ain't interested Mr. Wilson since a few days ago when he asked Mrs. Wilson, 'How much are we paying now for coffee, mommer?' and Mrs. Wilson says fifty-eight cents a pound, and Mr. Wilson says for the love of Mike, and then asks what she is paying for eggs, and Mrs. Wilson says at Ginsburg's Economy Market eighty-five cents a dozen, and Mr. Wilson says he would just as lieve have some hash from last night's rib roast, and Mrs. Wilson says she doesn't blame him and so would she, but that they are going to have that rib roast cold for lunch on account Ginsburg is practically schenking his customers rib roast for fifty-five cents a pound," Morris said.
"And how did you come to hear about this conversation, Mawruss?" Abe asked.
"I didn't hear about it," Morris replied, "but I presume it took place the morning after the newspapers printed the report of the Federal Trade Commission about the packing-houses, Abe, because a similar conversation happened at my breakfast-table that morning, and I presume it also happened at yours."