A QUEER TRADE

Dominion, Volume 19, Issue 254, 10 July 1926, Page 22

A QUEER TRADE

VENDOR OF HOTEL LABELS

Vaiiitv may take many forms and sonic of them arc relatively innocent. One riiav be permitted to laugh over the little foibles of one’s fellows while deprecating them. The traveller, for example, is prone to exaggeration. He abounds in Paris. Sometimes he lingers longer in the French capital than he intended, but how can he return home with the confession that he lias not accomplished the vast tour which he had planned ? His weakness has been discovered (savs the “Christian Science Monitor”). It has been tinned to commercial purposes. There arc many, curious metiers, but perhaps there is no more curious metier than that which is exercised bv the man who takes his stand near the Paris Opera House. He is Iving in wait for the traveller who is ieady to magnify bis journeying©. Tie lies’ in wait, a 'wily tempter, who judges his possible clients by their general bearing. His instinct is almost unerring. Rarely docs lie make any mistake. Such an one takes up Ins position near an establishment which occupies itself with the lotwarding of baggage. There is nothing which specially distinguishes him. He is an ordinary looking person in ordinary clothes. Under his arm lie carries a bulging portfolio. He might, be an advocate’s clerk or an insurance agent. In fact, tie is neither. His profession is much more unusual.

fie is a vendor of hotel labels. The endless panorama of the Paris streets unrolls itself before his eves. He surveys the spectacle with apparent nonchalance and he shows no special interest. But suddenly he observes a traveller with whom he believes he can do business, \ few words are <schangtd. At first the visitor is inclined to brush him aside. Presently he be-

comes interested. Nearly always does he enter with the vendor of labels into the establishment which occupies itself with the forwarding of luggage. .You may observe him, if you are curious, open his portfolio, make a selection of itis labels, and hand them over in return for francs, or dollars, of lira, or pesetas. Fine coloured labels they are. Upon them are written the names ot the principal hotels of the great tourist centres of the world. Tfic traveller chooses for himself. Here is a rich assortment. The familiar names of the world-famous palaces of Nice, Cannes, of Venice, of Geneva, of London, of Florence, of Cairo, are printed in staring letters. It is “smart” to have staved in these places. Evidence of such luxurious travelling commands its price. The labels are stuck upon the portmanteaux and the valises. These portmanteaux and valises can, it would seem, be regarded with pride and pleasure when the traveller returns to his native land. lie will carry with him a reminiscence of Rome, a' hint of the Norwegian fjords, a suggestion of Corsica, the aroma of the Riviera, the colour of Greece. Should one. in condemning vendor and purchaser, be vexed at such vanity, or should one smile amiably? At any rate, the man of the Opera has discovered, as have many other merchants on a larger scale, that a living is to be obtained bv pandering to the. vanity of travellers. Where he obtains his labels is doubtless a trade secret. It is a nivstery that we need not investigate. There is little likelihood that the great hotels, which thus obtain additional publicity, will comnlain. The vendor of labels speaks six languages, which sufficiently proves that the vanity of the traveller is not peculiar to any particular country.