NEW YORK SIDELIGHTS

Evening Post, Volume CXXIII, Issue 2, 4 January 1937, Page 12

NEW YORK SIDELIGHTS

BOOM IN TURTLES LARGE-SCALE HOUSEKEEPING Before long, it seems, everybody in town will own a turtle, writes Margaret Russell in the "New York Times Magazine." One "turtle shop" is selling nearly a hundred a day. Little things about the size of a dollar, with their backs painted any colour you like, and their names written right across them. The favourite name for turtles is Shirley Temple; then comes Popeye, then Orphan Annie, then Mae West. But some people want their own names written on them, or the names of the person they're giving them to. One dear old lady who was purchasing a turtle looked at the sales girl and said, "You're a little flower, aren't you?" The sales girl said, "Well, I don't think so." The lady had Little Flower written on her turtle. These novelties appeared first at the World's Fair in Chicago. The man who thought up the idea later tried it out in Detroit, Philadelphia, and Boston. He was afraid that New Yorkers were too blase for turtles, and he didn't bring any here until a few months ago. But as soon as he got in town he saw that business was going to be good and' by the end of two weeks he had opened a second shop. Turtles are not all bought by small boys. Most of them are bought by ladies. And ladies nearly always want to send them to Panama or Poland. So Shirley Temple or Mae West gets wrapped up in a damp cloth and pu u in a small box with four holes punched in the bottom, and away she goes. The damp cloth not only keeps her cool but nourishes her, and when she arrives in Panama or Poland she is feeling very well, thank you, and would like some ant eggs. Millions of the little favours have already been sent through the mail, and all of them have been alive when they reached their destinations. But not all of them reached their destinations. Somebody didn't like the idea —or liked the turtle. The turtles are guaranteed not to snap. And you can throw them around —they don't mind a bit. If they get fresh water every day and a pinch of ant eggs every second day, they won't wear out for five or six years. They cost 25 to 75 cents, according to size. (The ones that are the size of a dollar are about seven weeks old, and those that are as big as an apple are two years old.) But there's one that the man won't sell. Its name is Weary Willie, and it isn't weary a bit. It has more pep than all the rest of them. _ It will dive into the water from a height of three feet, and if the sales girl says, "Willie, turn your head to the right," it turns its head to the right. It' was born in Florida. MANAGING A HOTEL. The executive housekeeper of one of the world's biggest hotels doesn't have much time for day-dreaming. There are 2500 rooms to be cleaned every day, 6000 or 7000 windows to be washed every week, 12,000.000 pieces of linen to be laundered every year. Cuspidors and mail chutes have to be polished, doors oiled, walls of halls dusted down twice a month and washed three times a year. Even vacant rooms have to be aired and dusted every day. Ink spots on carpets (and there are always ink spots on carpets) have to be removed with lemon juice, milk, and salt. The executive housekeeper has 45U employees working under her; an assistant housekeeper, a banquet housekeeper, 25 bedroom housekeepers, 250 maids, 20 seamstresses, 60 housemen, nine window cleaners, and about 100 attendants in linen rooms, supply rooms, furniture departments, and so on. » Some guests are temperamental. They want rocking chairs and hat stands in their rooms, and they can't stand green comforters. Sometimes twenty or thirty changes of furniture are made for one guest, and all of this has to be written down so that the next time ■ that guest. returns to the hotel the rocking chair and the hat stand—and a blue comforter—will be there' waiting for him. A day maid's equipment consists of: broom, carpet sweeper, whiskbroom, cloth- for cleaning bathroom floor, two cheese-cloth dusters, towel for wiping glasses,- cloths for cleaning and drying bathtubs, and can of cleaning powder. She is -responsible for about a dozen rooms. Her hours are from 8 to 4, and she gets two days off * a month. A night maid has charge of fifty rooms, and her hours are from 4 to 12, with two nights off a month. Day maids change their uniforms once a week, but their aprons and collars every day. Night maids change their uniforms only "when necessary." Here are a few of the housekeeper's printed instructions: Look behind radiators and behind pictures for dust. Feel under the paper in bureau drawers and between the frames and springs of beds. Rub hands over the backs of pictures, tops of doors, closet shelves, closet floors, window shades. Make sure that window shades are drawn half-way down in winter and three-quarters of the way down in summer. Say "Thank you" in a sincere, wholehearted manner, and add to its sincerity by mentioning the name of the person to whom you speak, as: "Thank you, Mr. Smith." ■ Maids are not permitted to give any information to patrons about rooms being occupied or vacant. Do not speak above a whisper in the corridors. Maids may not have any mail sent to them in care of the hotel, and they may not use telephones in either occupied or vacant rooms. The following articles, the maids are told, may be procured for patrons at the floor clerk's desk: ice bag, hotwater bag, shoe horn, button hook, whisk-broom, straight pins, safety pins, scissors, hair pins, curling iron, needle, thread, thimble, comb, brush, night clothes.

DINING IN A CAFETERIA. Cafeterias are becoming so de luxe that timid people are almost afraid to go into them. Murals, metal mouldings, patterned floors, Venetian blinds, indirect lighting, and even dinner music are being provided for people who serve themselves. Somewhere on the wall there's usually a trick clock that can't be read, and all around the room there are modernistic hat pegs that go in twos and look like silver horns. But men find that the best way to keep their hats is to keep them on. And they look awfully funny when they're chewing, because their hats bounce up and down with every bite. The reason people love to eat in cafeterias is not because the food is cheap. But because they feel so free. They can walk around and get anything they want, and they don't have to have a waiter standing over them watching everything they put in their mouths. But if they think they're not being watched, they're mistaken. The manager of the cafeteria in Central Park says that he doesn't do anything all day but stand around and watch people. If anybody seems to be there for any purpose besides eating, he invites them out.