ies. I'd like to be
transferred to the kitchen utensils and household goods."

"Transferred! Well, I'll see what I can do. What was the name now? I
forget."

A queer look stole into Ray Willets' face, a look of determination and
shrewdness.

"Name?" she said. "My name is Rachel Wiletzky."

VIII

THE HOOKER-UP-THE-BACK

Miss Sadie Corn was not a charmer, but when you handed your room-key to
her you found yourself stopping to chat a moment. If you were the right
kind you showed her your wife's picture in the front of your watch. If
you were the wrong kind, with your scant hair carefully combed to hide
the bald spot, you showed her the newspaper clipping that you carried in
your vest pocket. Following inspection of the first, Sadie Corn would
say: "Now that's what I call a sweet face! How old is the youngest?"
Upon perusal the second was returned with dignity and: "Is that supposed
to be funny?" In each case Sadie Corn had you placed for life.

She possessed the invaluable gift of the floor clerk, did Sadie
Corn--that of remembering names and faces. Though you had registered at
the Hotel Magnifique but the night before, for the first time, Sadie
Corn would look up at you over her glasses as she laid your key in its
proper row, and say: "Good morning, Mr. Schultz! Sleep well?"

"Me!" you would stammer, surprised and gratified. "Me! Fine!
H'm--Thanks!" Whereupon you would cross your right foot over your left
nonchalantly and enjoy that brief moment's chat with Floor Clerk Number
Two. You went back to Ishpeming, Michigan, with three new impressions:
The first was that you were becoming a personage of considerable
importance. The second was that the Magnifique realised this great truth
and was grateful for your patronage. The third was that New York was a
friendly little hole after all!

Miss Sadie Corn was dean of the Hotel Magnifique's floor clerks. The
primary requisite in successful floor clerkship is homeliness. The
second is discreet age. The third is tact. And for the benefit of those
who think the duties of a floor clerk end when she takes your key when
you leave your room, and hands it back as you return, it may be
mentioned that the fourth, fifth, sixth and seventh requisites are
diplomacy, ingenuity, unlimited patience and a comprehensive knowledge
of human nature. Ambassadors have been known to keep their jobs on less
than that.

She had come to the Magnifique at thirty-three, a plain, spare, s