society into some sense of those darker realities in the midst of which we live partly in ignorance, partly by moral torpor.
It has long been half known that in many garish hotels and restaurants—the very ones to which "Easy Street" flocks for its jollities—that the conditions, the pay, and hours of work among certain of the lower serving class were inhumanly bad. For parts of this service, the vulgar briberies of the tipping system invited the abuse of uncertainty, envy, suspicion and exploitation. The weaker help especially among the women were worked far beyond legal limits. There was often an extremely vicious system of fining. Because of our inveterate social preoccupations these abuses might go on for decades. But suddenly from this underworld the smouldering heats burst into a "Waiters Strike." The thronged tables are unserved. Momentarily the fuss and clutter are great fun, except for the proprietors. These have spasms of choler which the public itself shares when the novelty is gone or the dinners too long delayed.
A specified list of complaints was given me at the meeting place of the cooks and waiters. I have submitted it to hotel managers and to stewards as well as to waiters in no way connected with the strike. These witnesses agree that some of the complaints are absurd; that some of the charges are groundless. They agree that much is demanded which is impossible to grant. They agree that the complaints do not apply to all hotels and restaurants. But they also agree in the only thing which concerns us, that very widely and where one should least expect it are utterly
