Part 7 (1/2)
”Just pay your bill and you'll get them all right,” said Ma.s.senger. (I should explain that whoever travels with me is called Ma.s.senger. It saves trouble.)
I did not quite understand, but I signified my intention of paying my bill, and the proprietor or his steward was all bows and smiles, and handed it to me, at the same time ringing a bell.
Then the chorus began to a.s.semble. Lads and maidens in the persons of waiters whom I had never seen, and chambermaids of whom I had never heard, began to swarm into the office.
After they had ranged themselves picturesquely the boots began to arrive. Some from neighboring hotels who had heard the bell came running in, and grouped themselves behind the maids. Then a head waiter who looked like a tenor came seriously in and I expected that in a moment I would hear:
”'Tis the very first of May, Though we've not a thing to say, We will stand here, anyway Stand awhile and sing.”
I looked at Ma.s.senger and asked him what it all meant.
”It's in our honor,” said he. ”We've got to sh.e.l.l out.”
And sure enough it was. We had to disgorge pro rata to all the a.s.sembled ones, and Ma.s.senger said afterward that he thought one or two of the guests came in for certain of our gratuities.
When we stepped into the 'bus, quite innocent of coins of any sort, I listened, expecting to hear:
”Now, in spite of rainy day, We have gone and made our hay.
And I don't care what you say, When the Yankees come this way We get what they bring.”
They got it all right, but I was quite unnerved for some time. The attack had been so sudden.
In Ireland there is nothing to equal this for system, and a copper does make a man feel grateful--or at least it does make him express grat.i.tude. I have yet to hear curses in Ireland.
But when you visit private houses you don't know what to do. Tips are expected there--not by everybody, but by maid and coachman, anyhow, and you wonder what is the right thing to do.
To be sure you have caused trouble. You have placed your boots outside your door, just as you have latterly learned to do at home, and it was a maid who gave them that dull polish that wears out in a half hour. Leave polish behind when you leave America--that seems, by the way, to be the motto of a good many traveling Americans, but I referred to the kind that you can see your face in when imparted by an Italian.
[Ill.u.s.tration: MILK WAGON, MALLOW]
I had an experience when on my way to visit Lady ----, in County Monaghan, in the central part of Ireland.
Just how much to tip a coachman of a ”Lady” I did not know. A s.h.i.+lling did not seem enough, and two s.h.i.+llings seemed a good deal, and the fellow did not have the arrogance of an English coachman. He was simple and kindly, and was willing to talk to me, although he never ventured a word unless I spoke to him.
When I had alighted at Ballybully station a ragged man had seized my valise, and on ascertaining my destination had carried it to a smart jaunting car driven by a liveried driver. I offered him a copper, and he looked at it and said, ”Sure, you're too rich a man to be contint with that.”
So to contint meself I gave him sixpence, just what I had paid for having my trunk carried one hundred and eighty miles, and climbed to the car.
On the way to the estate of Lady Clancarty (to give her a name also) I figured on what I'd better give. To give too much would be as bad as to give too little. Still, if it cost a sixpence for my suit case to go a hundred yards, a three-mile drive should be worth a half pound at least.
At last, just as we were driving in at the lodge gates, I foresaw that I must make haste--as it would never do to hand out my tip in the presence of my hostess--so I reached over the ”well” and handed two s.h.i.+llings to the driver. He seemed surprised and pulled a bit hard on the left line. There was a swerve, a loud snap, and the step of the car was broken short off against the gate!
I was conscience-stricken, but said not a word for a minute. Then the driver said, ”I've been driving for twinty-three years and niver had an accident before.”
He had jumped out and thrown the step into the ”well” between us.
I had visions of the sacking of the old family driver, and all because I had not known how much of a gratuity to give him.