The average hotel manager is only too prone to complain of the incompetency and the inefficiency of hotel "help."

It is true that it is difficult to secure skilled help, for there is no sort of institution that trains men and women for the different kinds of hotel work. Each hotel must train its own help, or obtain them from other hotels.

Thus there is no uniform and generally accepted standard of excellence in the different departments of hotel-keeping.

A good word should be said in behalf of the Irish-American girls, who constitute a majority of the laundry help, waitresses, and chambermaids in American hotels to-day.

With a high regard for honor and rectitude, handicapped by poverty, they find employment, at a very early age, in hotels, and perform menial duties in a manner that is greatly to their credit.

The Irish-American girls are not shiftless, remaining in one place for years until they either marry or leave to fill better positions, which is the privilege of every one living under the "Stars and Stripes."

Some improve their spare time in study, thereby fitting themselves to become stenographers and bookkeepers. Some adopt the stage as a profession, one instance being that of Clara Morris, who takes delight in telling of the days when she washed silver in a hotel.

An ex-Governor Peeled Potatoes.

Ex-Governor Hoard, of Wisconsin, boasts of the time when he peeled potatoes in a hotel.

The success of hotel-keeping depends largely on the manager. He should possess patience, forbearance, and amiability. He should know that the best results are obtained from his help by kindness, and that good food and good beds mean better service.

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.