ve often talked over the system of tipping with my fellow
waiters," said an educated man of the calling, when I brought up
the subject to him. (Parenthetically, perhaps, I should say here
that since this man speaks fluently and writes correctly four
languages, has traveled much and observed well on the great
tourist routes of the world, has studied some of the serious
works of writers on sociology, and has, withal, acquired
agreeable manners, he may be called educated. Without doubt, had
he a few thousands of vulgar dollars he might buy himself a
title as Baron and marry in our best society; but he is above
that; he has a craving for walking in the light of truth.) "All
of us would like to see the system abolished," he assured me,
"except a small minority who in their moral make-up resemble
pirates, and who cruise in places where riches abound. But the
whole situation is one in which reform is most difficult.

"Among the people who patronize hotels and restaurants there is
a considerable element that, either for a week of frolic or
during their lifelong holiday, are regardless of the value of
their tips, and through their vanity enjoy throwing away a
percentage of their ready money. Then, also, are those grateful
for the little kindly attentions which a good waiter or porter
knows how to bestow. As for the proprietors and managers, their
business is based on tips as one of the considerable forms of
revenue. For instance, in many German hotels the waiters are
obliged to give the cashier five or more marks additional on
every hundred marks of checks. In Austria, at the larger
restaurants the customers tip three persons after a meal--the
head-waiter who collects the payments, the waiter who serves and
the piccolo or beer-boy. The hotel management sells to the
head-waiter the monopoly privilege of the tips. The head-waiter
then provides the newspapers and magazines on file, the city
directories, time-tables and other books of reference called for
by patrons, and a part of the outfit of the waiters. Of course,
it is an old and true story, that in the big restaurants of
Paris, and to-day of other cities and fashionable
watering-places, the waiters pay so much cash a day for their
jobs. The pestering of guests to buy drinks comes, not so much
from commissions, as from orders of th