London at the End of the Century:A Book of Gossip
a Beckett, Arthur William
1900
A NIGHT WITH THE ELECTRIC LIGHT.
And speaking of hotels, I am reminded that it is well to discover the secrets of the electric light before retiring to rest. A friend of mine, weary from much travel, went to bed leaving the lamp in full blast. At 4 a.m. he woke up, and finding the electric light still brilliant, attempted to turn it off. He pushed the | |
328 | button at his side without any effect. He repeated the pressure several times, and then heard a knock at his door and the sleepy sounds of a human voice. He was asked what he wanted, and then discovered to his surprise, that he had been taking infinite trouble to summon a superfluous waiter! At the Louvre and many other hotels there is an indiarubber bag attached by a tube to the electric lights. You squeeze this bag once, and the chandelier in the centre of the room blazes, a second pressure transfers the light from the centre of the room to the bedside, and a third application puts lights out. The matter is very simple when you know how it is done; but, if you don't, you may imitate the action of my friend and bring forth the early waiter-with results. When you do you had better look out in your conversation book for you will need some of the replies! If you are a theatre-goer, you will find most of the old playhouses occupied by, in fact, old plays; and if you prefer a music-hall, you will see most of the stars from the mother country once again. If you are an artist, you will know your Louvre and your Luxembourg by heart. If you are a musician, you will find the Opera and Opera Comique scarcely up to the mark of . And yet, after all, is delightful. You don't want to go anywhere or to do anything. The change of scene should be enough for you. |
