Some person that does not know anything about the life of a chambermaid will tell you that the "chambermaid has no protection, no morality, and is without the influence of a fixed place or home atmosphere;" finally, that "chamber-work is the most degrading occupation a girl can engage in!"

If a girl is not capable of a higher calling, why should not she make beds in a hotel when there is such a crying need from the hotel managers for conscientious and painstaking work? It is not every girl that Providence has blessed with a prima donna's voice. Not every girl can be admitted on the vaudeville stage. Not all have had kind and wealthy parents to send them through college and fit them for the higher attainments.

Chambermaid Can Take Care of Self.

The proprietor is ever ready to protect the maids from undue familiarity from the male patrons of the hotel. This is seldom necessary. The average maid meets an incivility with a cold disdain that puts to rout a second attempt. Men that wreck women's lives are found outside of hotels.

Religion a Factor.

It is an undisputed fact that the Irish-American Catholic girls make the best chambermaids. The comfort found in the Catholic religion compensates for the loss of home ties. She is without any danger signal save her own conscience, yet there does not exist on the face of the earth a more moral class of girls than the Irish-American Catholic chambermaids in the hotels of the United States.

She goes at her work determined to use her experience as a stepping-stone to something higher. She encounters many pitfalls. She makes a few mistakes, but during her stay in Yankeeland she has learned President Roosevelt's maxim: "The man who never makes any mistakes is the man who never does anything." She is consoled by it, and from her pitfalls learns a lesson that enables her to avoid making the same mistakes in the future.

Not a Bad Day's Program.

At the Grand Union Hotel in New York City, and in hotels in other cities in New York state, the writer has learned from observation that the social side of the chambermaid's life is a pleasant one. She begins the day at 7:15 and quits at 4:00, except the night she is on watch. She is given a ten o'clock lunch; she has one hour for dinner, and at 2:30 she is given fifteen minutes for a cup of tea. The night she is on watch, she is served with a good dinner of chicken and all the good things the hotel affords. She has every third Sunday off and may follow her own will. She has time to cultivate acquaintances, and attend to her religious duties.

Christmas Time.

There is kindness and courtesy existing among the maids. When Christmas day draws near, the festivities are looked forward to with eager anticipation. Mysterious-looking bundles are coming in and going out. Friends are remembered. The father and mother, brother and sister over the water are not forgotten; and likewise the maids are not forgotten by their employer. The dining-hall is wreathed in holly, the table is loaded with all the season's delicacies. Trade is dull in the hotel, and the time is given over to enjoyment.

Chambermaids at Their Best.

There are evening parties in the "help's hall." The weekly "tips" or any "stray coins" are invested in sugar and butter, and "fondant" is made that would melt in your mouth. Then there is the "taffy-pull," the cups of tea, and the "fortunes told," over the cups. The jokes go round, the merry laughter resounds and gets so loud that the housekeeper, who has retired, rises, and hastens to put a stop to the noise. Arriving on the scene, she has not the heart to reprove them. Herein she tastes an old joy of girlhood. It is Christmas. She slips back to her own room and into bed again. The airs of "Killarney" and "The Wearing of the Green" die away, and the house is quiet.