engagements on the journey back. We were all eager, but we knew nothing
of table-waiting. "Never mind," said Fortson, "you can stand around the
dining-room during meals and carry out the big wooden trays of dirty
dishes. Thus you can pick up knowledge of waiting and earn good tips and
get free board." I listened askance, but I went.

I entered that broad and blatant hotel at Lake Minnetonka with distinct
forebodings. The flamboyant architecture, the great verandas, rich
furniture, and richer dresses awed us mightily. The long loft reserved
for us, with its clean little cots, was reassuring; the work was not
difficult,--but the meals! There were no meals. At first, before the
guests ate, a dirty table in the kitchen was hastily strewn with
uneatable scraps. We novices were the only ones who came to eat, while
the guests' dining-room, with its savors and sights, set our appetites
on edge! After a while even the pretense of meals for us was dropped. We
were sure we were going to starve when Dug, one of us, made a startling
discovery: the waiters stole their food and they stole the best. We
gulped and hesitated. Then we stole, too, (or, at least, they stole and
I shared) and we all fattened, for the dainties were marvelous. You
slipped a bit here and hid it there; you cut off extra portions and gave
false orders; you dashed off into darkness and hid in corners and ate
and ate! It was nasty business. I hated it. I was too cowardly to steal
much myself, and not coward enough to refuse what others stole.

Our work was easy, but insipid. We stood about and watched overdressed
people gorge. For the most part we were treated like furniture and were
supposed to act the wooden part. I watched the waiters even more than
the guests. I saw that it paid to amuse and to cringe. One particular
black man set me crazy. He was intelligent and deft, but one day I
caught sight of his face as he served a crowd of men; he was playing the