THE NIGHT CLERK: After finding this narrative of the experience of a night clerk in the Aug. 10, 1880, edition of The Era, we had to share it.

Appearing at the bottom of Page 1 was “The Night Clerk: A Singular Specimen of Being Who May be found Even in Bradford — The Man Whose Lot is met a Happy one.”

The narrative is as follows:

“In this world of care and grief and board bills, there are a few classes of individuals whose lot is more than usually cheerless as they are compelled to labor while honest people are wrapped in slumber and the bed-clothes. The night clerk at a hotel is one of these unfortunates whose time is passed in continuing the silent watches of the night and praying for daylight when he seeks his bed, a prey to the deepest melancholy and the liveliest of flies. Such a man is a hermit in the midst of a city full, isolated by his unchristian hours from all save the more ungodly portion of humanity and a few morning paper men.

There is no situation in life so prolific of periods of meditation on the errors of a misspent life as the night clerk’s. The late visitor surprises him, curled up in an easy chair with his back arched like a bow, his chin resting in his hands, and his face wearing the most woe-be-gone expression it were possible to conceive.

No one ever saw him around to a pitch of violent exertion, except when firing out an inebriated tramp who applied for a night’s lodging. In such a case he arises to an astonishing degree of liveliness, and for the time appears really pleased with his job. Then he sinks into a state of partial coma until aroused by some hilarious wanderers of the night who want a cup before turning in.”

We’ll share the rest of “The Night Clerk” in a future column.