Speaker 1: Personality plus by Atna Ferber, Chapter one, Making Good with Mother.
Speaker 1: When men began to build cities vertically instead of horizontally,
Speaker 1: there passed from our highways a picturesque figure, and from
Speaker 1: our language an expressive figure of speech, that oily tongued, persuasive,
Speaker 1: soft stepping stranger in the rusty Prince Albert and the
Speaker 1: black string tie, who had been wont to haunt our
Speaker 1: back steps in front offices with his carefully wrapped bundle,
Speaker 1: retreated in bewildered defeat before the clanging blows of steel
Speaker 1: on steel that meant the erection of the first twenty
Speaker 1: story skyscraper. As slick, we used to say, as a
Speaker 1: lightning rod agent of what use his wares on a
Speaker 1: building whose tower was robed in clouds, and which used
Speaker 1: the chain lightning for a necklace. The Fourth Avenue antique
Speaker 1: dealer had another curio to add to his collection of
Speaker 1: andiron knockers, snuff boxes and warming pans. But even as
Speaker 1: this quaint figure vanished, there sprang up a new and
Speaker 1: glittering one to take his place. He stood framed in
Speaker 1: the great plate glass window of the very building which
Speaker 1: had brought about the defeat of his predecessor, a miracle
Speaker 1: of close shaving. His face was and a marvel of
Speaker 1: immaculateness's linen dapper, he was and dressy, albeit inclined to
Speaker 1: glittering effects, and a certain plethory. At the back of
Speaker 1: the neck. Back of him stood shining shapes that reflected
Speaker 1: his glory in enamel and brass and glass. His language
Speaker 1: was floral but choice. His talk was of gearings and bearings,
Speaker 1: and cylinders and magnetos. His method differed from that of
Speaker 1: him who went before, as the method of a skilled
Speaker 1: aeronaut differs from that of the man who goes over
Speaker 1: Niagara in a barrel. And as he multiplied and spread
Speaker 1: over the land, we coined a new figure of speech. Smooth,
Speaker 1: we chuckled, as smooth as an automobile salesman. But even
Speaker 1: as we listened fascinated by his fluid verbiage, there stood
Speaker 1: within us a certain resentment. Familiarity with his glittering wares
Speaker 1: bred a contempt of them, so that he fell to
Speaker 1: speaking of them as necessities instead of luxuries. He juggled
Speaker 1: figures and thought nothing of four of them in a row.
Speaker 1: We looked at our five thousand dollars salary so strangely
Speaker 1: shrunken and thin. Now, and even as we looked, we
Speaker 1: saw that the method of the unctuous, anxious stranger had
Speaker 1: become antiquated in its turn. Then from his ashes emerged
Speaker 1: a new being, neither urger nor spellbinder. He the twentieth
Speaker 1: century was stamped across his brow and on his lips
Speaker 1: forever the word service, silent, courteous, watchful, alert. He listened
Speaker 1: while you talked. His method, in turn, made that of
Speaker 1: the silk lined salesman sound like the horse hoots of
Speaker 1: the ballyhou manned at a country fair. Blithely, he accepted
Speaker 1: five hundred thousand dollars and gave in return a promise.
Speaker 1: And when we would search our soul for a synonym
Speaker 1: to express all that was low voiced and suave and
Speaker 1: judicious and patient and sure, we began to say as
Speaker 1: alert as an advertising expert. Jock mc chesney, looking as
Speaker 1: fresh and clear eyed as only twenty one and a
Speaker 1: cold shower could make one look, stood in the doorway
Speaker 1: of his mother's bedroom. His toilet had halted abruptly at
Speaker 1: the bathrobe stage. One of those bulky gorments swathed his
Speaker 1: slim figure, while over his left arm hung a gray
Speaker 1: tweed Narfolk coat. From his right hand dangled a pair
Speaker 1: of trousers in pattern. A modish black and white jock
Speaker 1: eyed the gray garment on his arm with moody eyes. Well,
Speaker 1: I'd like to know what's the matter with it, he
Speaker 1: demanded a trifle irritably. Emma mc chesney, in the act
Speaker 1: of surveying her back hair in the mirror, paused hand
Speaker 1: glass poised half way to regard her son. All right,
Speaker 1: she answered, cheerfully. I'll tell you it's too young. Young.
Speaker 1: He held it at arm's length and stared at it.
Speaker 1: What do you mean, young? Imma mc chesney came forward,
Speaker 1: wrapping the folds of her kimono about her. She took
Speaker 1: the disputed garment in one hand and held it aloft.
Speaker 1: I know that you look like a man on a
Speaker 1: magazine cover in it, but Narfolk suits spelled tennis and
Speaker 1: sea shore and elegant leisure. And you're going out this
Speaker 1: morning's sun to interview business men. You're going to try
Speaker 1: to r us the advertising world with the fact that
Speaker 1: it needs your expert services. You walk into a business
Speaker 1: office in a Norfolk suit, and everybody from the office
Speaker 1: boy to the president of the company will ask you
Speaker 1: what your score is. She tossed it back over his arm.
Speaker 1: I'll wear the black and white, said Jock resignedly and
Speaker 1: turned toward his own room. At his doorway, he paused
Speaker 1: and raised his voice slightly. For that matter, they're looking
Speaker 1: for young men. Everybody's young. Why the biggest men of
Speaker 1: the advertising gamer just kids. He disappeared within his room,
Speaker 1: still talking. Look at mc quirk, advertising manager of the
Speaker 1: Combs car company. He's so young he has to disguise
Speaker 1: himself in bone trimmed eyeglasses with a black ribbon to
Speaker 1: get away with it. Look at Hooper of the berg
Speaker 1: Scheider company, pulls down ninety thousand a year, and if
Speaker 1: he's thirty five, I'll well, you asked my advice, interrupted
Speaker 1: his mother's voice with that muffled effect which is caused
Speaker 1: by a skirt being slipped over the head. And I
Speaker 1: gave it. Wear a white duck sailor suit with blue anchors,
Speaker 1: and carry a red tin pail and a shovel. If
Speaker 1: you want to look young, only get into it in
Speaker 1: a jiffy son because breakfast will be ready in ten minutes.
Speaker 1: I can tell by the way Annie's crashing the cups.
Speaker 1: So step lively if you want to pay your lovely
Speaker 1: mother's subway fare. Ten minutes later, the slim young figure
Speaker 1: in its English fitting black and white, sat opposite Emma
Speaker 1: mc chesney at the breakfast table, and between excited gulps
Speaker 1: of coffee, outlined a meteoric career in his chosen field.
Speaker 1: And the more he talked and the rosier his figures
Speaker 1: of speech became, the more silent and thoughtful fell his mother.
Speaker 1: She wondered if five o'clock would find a droop to
Speaker 1: the set of those young shoulders, if the springy young
Speaker 1: legs in their absurdly scant, modish trouser would have lost
Speaker 1: some of their elacticity, if the buoyant step in the
Speaker 1: flat heel shoes would not drag a little. Thirteen years
Speaker 1: of business experience had taught her to swallow smilingly the
Speaker 1: bitter pill of rebuff, But this boy was to experience
Speaker 1: his first doze to day. She felt again that sensation
Speaker 1: of almost physical nausea, that sickness of heart and spirit
Speaker 1: which had come over her when she had met her
Speaker 1: first sneer and intolerant shrug. It had been her maiden
Speaker 1: trip on the road for the t a buck featherloom
Speaker 1: Petticoat company. She was secretary of that company now and
Speaker 1: moving spirit in its policy, But the wound of that
Speaker 1: first insult still ate. A word from her would have
Speaker 1: placed the boy and saved him from kurt refusals. She
Speaker 1: withheld that word. He must fight his fight alone. I
Speaker 1: want to write the kind of ad Jock was saying,
Speaker 1: excitedly that you see him staring at him the subways
Speaker 1: and street cars and l trains. I want to sit
Speaker 1: across the aisle and watch their upturned faces staring at
Speaker 1: that oblong and reading it aloud to each other. Isn't
Speaker 1: that an awfully obvious necktie you're wearing, Jock inquired his
Speaker 1: mother irrelevantly. This you ought to see some of them.
Speaker 1: This is a Quaker stock in comparison. He glanced down
Speaker 1: complacently at the vivid hued silken scarf that the season's
Speaker 1: mode demanded. Immediately he was off again. And the first
Speaker 1: thing you know, missrus mcchestey, ma'am, we'll have a motor
Speaker 1: truck backing up at the door once a month, and
Speaker 1: six strong men carrying my salary to the freight elevator
Speaker 1: in sacks. Emma mc chesney buttered her bit of toast,
Speaker 1: then looked up to remark quietly, hadn't you better qualify
Speaker 1: for the trial heats, Jock before you jump into the
Speaker 1: finals trial heats? Sneered Jock. They're poky. I want real
Speaker 1: money now. It isn't enough to be just well to
Speaker 1: do in these days. It needs money. I want to
Speaker 1: be rich, not just prosperous, but rich, so rich that
Speaker 1: I can let the bast soap float around on the
Speaker 1: water without any pricks of conscience, so successful that they'll say,
Speaker 1: and he's a mere boy to imagine. And Jock, dear
Speaker 1: Emma McChesney, said, you still to learn that plans and
Speaker 1: ambitions are like soap bubbles. The harder you blow and
Speaker 1: the more you inflate them, the quicker they burst. Plans
Speaker 1: and ambitions are things to be kept locked away in
Speaker 1: your heart, son, with no one but yourself to take
Speaker 1: an occasional peep at them. Jock leaned over the table
Speaker 1: with his charming smile. You're a jealous blonde, he laughed,
Speaker 1: because I'm going to be a Captain of finance, an
Speaker 1: advertising wizard. You're a afraid I'll grab the glory all
Speaker 1: the way from you. Missus mc chesney folded her napkin
Speaker 1: and rose. She looked unbelievably young and trim and radiant
Speaker 1: to be the mother of this boasting boy. I'm not afraid,
Speaker 1: she drawled a wicked little glint in her blue eyes.
Speaker 1: You see, they'll only regard your feets and say, hm,
Speaker 1: no wonder he ought to be able to sell ice
Speaker 1: to an Eskimo. His mother was Immam Chesney, and then,
Speaker 1: being a modern mother, she donned smart autumn hat and
Speaker 1: tailor's suit coat and stood ready to reach her office
Speaker 1: by nine point thirty. But because she was as motherly
Speaker 1: as she was modern, she swung open the door between
Speaker 1: kitchen and dining room to advise with Annie the adept
Speaker 1: lamb chops tonight a Annie and sweet potatoes, Jock loves him,
Speaker 1: and carnal grotten and some head lettuce. She glanced toward
Speaker 1: Jock in the hallway, then lowered her voice. Annie, she teased,
Speaker 1: just give us one of your peach cobblers, will you.
Speaker 1: You see, he's going to be awfully tired when he
Speaker 1: gets home. So they stepped off to work together, mother
Speaker 1: and son, a mother of twenty five years before, would
Speaker 1: have watched her son with tear dimmed eyes from the
Speaker 1: vine wreathed porch of a cottage. There was no watching
Speaker 1: a son from the tenth floor of an uptown apartment house. Besides,
Speaker 1: she had her work to do. The subway swallowed both
Speaker 1: of them together. They jostled and swung their way downtown
Speaker 1: in the close packed train. At the twenty third Street station,
Speaker 1: Jock left her You'll have dinner tonight with a full
Speaker 1: fledged professional gent. He bragged in his youth and exuberance,
Speaker 1: and was off down the aisle and out of the platform.
Speaker 1: Emma McChesney managed to turn in her nine inch space
Speaker 1: of train seat so that she watched the slim, buoyant
Speaker 1: young figure from the window until the train drew away
Speaker 1: and he was lost in the stairway jam. Just so
Speaker 1: Rachel had watched the boy Joseph go to meet the
Speaker 1: Persian caravans in the desert. Don't let them buffalo you, Jock,
Speaker 1: Emma had said, just before he left her. They'll try
Speaker 1: it if they give you a broom and tell you
Speaker 1: to sweep down the back stairs, Take it and sweep,
Speaker 1: and don't forget the corners and if while you're sweeping
Speaker 1: you notice that that kind of broom isn't suited to
Speaker 1: the stairs, go in and suggest a new kind. They'll
Speaker 1: like it. Brooms and back stairways had no place in
Speaker 1: Jock mc chesney's mind as the mahogany and gold elevator
Speaker 1: shot him up to the fourteenth floor of the great
Speaker 1: office building that housed the Berg Shriner Company. Down the
Speaker 1: marble hallway he went and into the reception room. A
Speaker 1: cruel test. It was that reception room with the cruelty
Speaker 1: peculiar to the modern in business, with its soft shaded lamp,
Speaker 1: it's two toned rug, its Jacobean chairs, its magazine laden
Speaker 1: cathedral oak table, its pot of bright flowers making a
Speaker 1: smart touch of color in the somber richness of the room.
Speaker 1: It was no place for the shabby, the down and out,
Speaker 1: the cringing, the rusty, or the mendicant. Jock McChesney, from
Speaker 1: the tips of his twelve dollar shoes to his radiant face,
Speaker 1: took the test and stood it triumphantly. He had entered
Speaker 1: with an air in which was mingled the briskness of
Speaker 1: assurance with the languor of ease. There were times when
Speaker 1: Jock mc chesney was every inch the son of his mother.
Speaker 1: There advanced towards Jock, a large, plump, dignified personage, a
Speaker 1: personage courteous yet reserved, inquiring yet not offensively curious, A
Speaker 1: very Machiavelli of reception room ushers. Even while his lips questioned,
Speaker 1: his eyes appraised close character conduct. Mister hup, please, said Jock,
Speaker 1: serene in the perfection of his shirt, tie, collar and
Speaker 1: scarf pin upon which the appraising eye now rested. Mister
Speaker 1: mc chesney, he produced a card appointment. No, but he
Speaker 1: will see me. But Machiavelli has seen too many over
Speaker 1: confident callers. Their very confidence had taught him caution. If
Speaker 1: you will please state your er business, Jock smiled a
Speaker 1: little patient smile, and brushed an imaginary fleck of dust
Speaker 1: from the sleeve of his very correct coat. I want
Speaker 1: to ask him for a job, his office boy, he gibed,
Speaker 1: and answering grin overspread the fat features of the usher.
Speaker 1: Even an usher likes his little joke. The sense of
Speaker 1: humor dies hard. I have a letter from him, asked
Speaker 1: kmy to call, said Jock. To clinch it this way,
Speaker 1: the keeper of the door led Jock toward the sacred
Speaker 1: inner portal and held it open. Mister Hups in the
Speaker 1: last door to the The door closed behind him, Jock
Speaker 1: found himself in the big, busy, light filled central office.
Speaker 1: Down either side of the great room ran a row
Speaker 1: of tiny private offices, each partitioned off, each outfitted with
Speaker 1: desk and chairs and a big bright window. On his
Speaker 1: way to the last door at the right, Jock glanced
Speaker 1: into each tiny office, glimpsing busy men bent upsorbidly over papers,
Speaker 1: girls busy with dictation. Here and there a door revealing
Speaker 1: two men are three deep in discussion of a problem,
Speaker 1: heads close together, Foye's low faces earnest. It came suddenly
Speaker 1: to the smartly modish, overconfided boy walking the length of
Speaker 1: the long room that the last person needed in this
Speaker 1: marvelously perfected and smooth running organization was a somewhat odd
Speaker 1: young man named Jock mc chesney. There came to him
Speaker 1: that strained sensation which comes to every job hunter, that
Speaker 1: feeling of having his spiritual legs carry him out of
Speaker 1: the room, passed the door, down the hall and into
Speaker 1: the street, even as in reality they bore him on
Speaker 1: to the very presence which he dreaded and yet wished
Speaker 1: to see. Two steps more, and he stood in the
Speaker 1: last doorway right. No matinee Idol, nervously awaiting his cue
Speaker 1: in the wings, could have planned his entrance more carefully
Speaker 1: than Jock had planned. His ease was the thing, ease,
Speaker 1: bordering on nonchalance mixed with a brisk and business like assurance.
Speaker 1: The entrance was lost on the man at the desk.
Speaker 1: He did not even look up. If Jacket entered on
Speaker 1: all fours doing a double tango to vocal accompaniment. It
Speaker 1: is doubtful if the man at the desk would have
Speaker 1: looked up. Pencil between his fingers, had held a trifle
Speaker 1: to one side in critical contemplation of the work before him,
Speaker 1: eyes narrowed judicially, lips pursed. He was the concentrated essence
Speaker 1: of do it now. Jock waited a moment in silence.
Speaker 1: The man at the desk worked on his head was semibald.
Speaker 1: Jock knew him to be thirty. Jock fixed his eye
Speaker 1: on the semi bal spot and spoke, my name's mc chesney,
Speaker 1: he began. I wrote you three days ago. You probably
Speaker 1: will remember, you replied, asking me to call, and I
Speaker 1: minute exploded. The man at the desk still absorbed. Jock faltered, stopped.
Speaker 1: The man at the desk did not look up a
Speaker 1: moment of silence except for the sound of the busy
Speaker 1: pencil traveling across the paper. Jock, glaring at the semi
Speaker 1: ball spot, spoke again. Of course, mister Hupp, if you're
Speaker 1: too busy to see me, hum, a preoccupied hum, such
Speaker 1: as a busy man makes when he is trying to
Speaker 1: give attention to two interests. Why I suppose there's no
Speaker 1: sense in staying. But it seems to me that common courtesy.
Speaker 1: The busy pencil paused, quivered in the making of a
Speaker 1: final period, enclosed the dot in a proofreader's circle, and
Speaker 1: rolled away across the desk. It's work done now, said
Speaker 1: Sam Hup, and swung around, smiling to face the affronted Jock.
Speaker 1: I had to get that out there waiting for it.
Speaker 1: He pressed a desk button, and what can I do
Speaker 1: for you? Sit down? Sit down. There was a certain
Speaker 1: abrupt geniality about him. His tartest rimmed glasses gave him
Speaker 1: an oddly owlish look, like a small boy taking liberties
Speaker 1: with grandfather's spectacles. Jock found himself sitting down, his anger
Speaker 1: slipping from him. My name's mc chesney, he began, I'm
Speaker 1: here because I went to work for this concern. He
Speaker 1: braced himself to present the convincing reason why arguments with
Speaker 1: which he had prepared himself, whereupon sam Hup the brisk
Speaker 1: proceeded to whisk his breath and arguments away with an
Speaker 1: unexpected all right, what do you want to do? Jock's
Speaker 1: mouth fell open. Do, he stammered, do why anything? Sam
Speaker 1: Hup's quick eye swept over the slim, attractive radiant correctly
Speaker 1: garbed the young figure before him. Unconsciously, he rubbed his
Speaker 1: ball spot with a rueful hand. Know anything about writing
Speaker 1: or advertising? Jock was at ease immediately Quite a lot. Yes,
Speaker 1: I practically rewrote the Gridiron play that we gave last year,
Speaker 1: and I was assistant advertising manager of the College Publications
Speaker 1: for two years. It gives a fellow a pretty broad
Speaker 1: knowledge of advertising. Oh Lord, groaned sam Hup and covered
Speaker 1: his eyes with his hand, as if in pain. Jock stared.
Speaker 1: The affronted feeling was returning. Sam Hup recovered himself and
Speaker 1: smiled a little wistfully. Mc jestney When I came up
Speaker 1: here twelve years ago, I got a job as reception
Speaker 1: room usher. A reception room usher is an office boy
Speaker 1: in long pants. Sometimes, when I'm optimistic, I think that
Speaker 1: if I live twelve years longer, I'll begin to know
Speaker 1: something about the rudiments of this game. Oh course, began
Speaker 1: Jock apologetically, but Hup's glance was over his head. Involuntarily,
Speaker 1: Jock turned to follow the direction of his eyes. Busy,
Speaker 1: said a voice in the doorway. Come in, Dudge, come in,
Speaker 1: boomed up. The man who entered was of the sort
Speaker 1: that the Boldness might well hesitate to address as Dutch.
Speaker 1: A tall, slim, elegant figure, vandyked, bronzed mcjestney. This is
Speaker 1: von Herman, head of our art department. Their hands met
Speaker 1: in a brief clasp. Von Herman's thoughts were evidently elsewhere.
Speaker 1: Just wanted to tell you that that cussed model skipped out,
Speaker 1: gone with the show, just when I had the whole
Speaker 1: series blocked out in my mind. He was a wonder
Speaker 1: no brains, but a marvelful looks and style. These people
Speaker 1: want real stuff. Don't know how I'm gonna give it
Speaker 1: to them now, Hup sat Up got too, he snapped,
Speaker 1: campaign as late as it is, can't you get an
Speaker 1: ordinary man model and fake the Greek god beauty? Yes,
Speaker 1: but it'll look faked. If I could lay my hands
Speaker 1: on a chapel, could wear clothes as if they belonged
Speaker 1: to him. Up, Rose, here's your man, he cried, with
Speaker 1: a snap of his fingers. Clothes look at him, he
Speaker 1: invented them. Why you could photograph him and he'd look
Speaker 1: like a drawing. Mont Hermann turned surprise, incredulous, hopeful, his
Speaker 1: artist eye brightening at the ease and grace and modishness
Speaker 1: of the smart, well knit figure before him. Me exploded Jock,
Speaker 1: his face suffused with a dull, painful red me pose
Speaker 1: for a clothing head Well, Hup reminded him, you said
Speaker 1: you'd do anything. Jock McChesney glared belligerently. Hupp returned the
Speaker 1: stair with a faint gleam of amusement shining behind the
Speaker 1: absurd glasses. The amused look changed to surprise as he
Speaker 1: beheld the glare in Jock's eyes fading for even as
Speaker 1: he glared, there had come a warning to Jock, a
Speaker 1: warning scent, just in time, from that wireless station located
Speaker 1: in his subconscious mind. A vivid face full of pride
Speaker 1: and hope and encouragement flashed before him. Jock, it said,
Speaker 1: don't let em buffalo you. They'll try it if they
Speaker 1: give you a broom and tell you to sweep down
Speaker 1: the back stairs. Jock was smiling his charming, boyish smile.
Speaker 1: Lead me to your north light, he laughed at Von Hermann.
Speaker 1: Got any Robert W. Chambers heroines tucked away there? Hup's
Speaker 1: broad hand came down on his shoulder with a thwack.
Speaker 1: That's the spirit, McChesney, that's the he stopped abruptly say
Speaker 1: are you related to missus Emma McChesney of the Featherloom
Speaker 1: Skirt Company. Slightly? She's my one and only mother. She
Speaker 1: you mean her son, Well, I'll be dorn. He held
Speaker 1: out his hand to Jock. If you were a real
Speaker 1: son of your mother. I wish you'd just call the
Speaker 1: office boy as you step down the hall with Von
Speaker 1: Herman and tell him to bring me a hammer and
Speaker 1: a couple of spikes. I'd better nail down my desk.
Speaker 1: I promise not to crowd you for a year or two,
Speaker 1: grinned Jock from the doorway, and was off with the
Speaker 1: pleased von Herman, pass the double row of beehives, again
Speaker 1: into the elevator, out again, up a narrow iron stairway,
Speaker 1: into a busy, cluttered, skylighted room. Pictures, posters, photographs hung
Speaker 1: all about. Some of the pictures Jock recognized as old
Speaker 1: friends that had gazed familiarly at him from subway trains
Speaker 1: and street cars and theater programs. Golf clubs, tennis rackets,
Speaker 1: walking sticks, billiard cues were stacked up in corners, and
Speaker 1: yet there was a bare and artily look about the place.
Speaker 1: Two silent shirt sleeved men were busy at drawing boards.
Speaker 1: Through a doorway beyond, Jock could see others similarly engaged
Speaker 1: in the next room. On a platform in one corner
Speaker 1: of the room posed a young man in one of
Speaker 1: those costumes, the coat of which is a mongrel mixture
Speaker 1: of cutaway and sack. You see them worn by clergymen
Speaker 1: with unsecular ideas in dress, and by the leaders of
Speaker 1: the counterfeiter's gang in the moving pictures. The pose was
Speaker 1: that met with in the backs of magazines, the head lifted,
Speaker 1: eyes fixed on an interesting object unseen, one arm crooked
Speaker 1: to hold a cane one foot advanced, the other, trailing
Speaker 1: slightly to give a fifth avenue four o'clock air. His
Speaker 1: face was expressionless. On his head was a sadly unroned
Speaker 1: silk hat. Von Hermann glanced at the drawing, tes to
Speaker 1: the board of one of the men. That'll do Flynn,
Speaker 1: he said to the model. He glanced again at the drawing.
Speaker 1: Bring out the hat a little more mac. They won't
Speaker 1: burnish it if you don't, to the artist. Then, turning about,
Speaker 1: where's that girl? From a far corner, sheltered by long
Speaker 1: green curtains, stepped a graceful, almost childishly slim figure in
Speaker 1: a bronze green Norfolk suit and close fitting hat from
Speaker 1: beneath which curled a fluff of bright golden hair. Von
Speaker 1: Herman stared at her. You're not the girl, he said,
Speaker 1: You won't do you sent for me? Retorted the girl.
Speaker 1: I'm miss Michelin, Gelda Michelin. I posed for you six
Speaker 1: months ago, but i've been out of town with the show,
Speaker 1: says then Von Herman, frowning, opened a table drawer, pulled
Speaker 1: out a card, index ran his long fingers through it
Speaker 1: and extracted a card. He glanced at it, and then
Speaker 1: the frown deepening read it aloud. Michelin Glinda telephone Bryan
Speaker 1: four seven five nine, brunette, medium build, good neck and eyes,
Speaker 1: good figure, good clothes. He glanced up. Well that's me,
Speaker 1: said miss Michelan calmly. I've got the same telephone number
Speaker 1: and eyes and neck and clothes. Of course my hair
Speaker 1: is different and I am thinner, but that's business. I'd
Speaker 1: like to know what chance the fat girl would happen
Speaker 1: the chorus these days. Von Hermann groaned, I'll pay you
Speaker 1: for the time you've waited in for your trouble. Can't
Speaker 1: use you for these pictures. Then, as she left, he
Speaker 1: turned a comically despairing face to the two men at
Speaker 1: the drawing boards. What are we going to do? We've
Speaker 1: got to make a start on these pictures, and everything
Speaker 1: has gone wrong. They want something special two figures, young
Speaker 1: man and woman said expressly. They didn't want a chicken,
Speaker 1: No ropping curls and none of that eyes and lips
Speaker 1: fool girl stuff. This Chap's ideal for the man, he
Speaker 1: pointed to Jock. Jock had been staring fascinated at the
Speaker 1: shaded zigzag marks which the artist, dark skinned velvet eyed,
Speaker 1: foreign looking youth was making on the sheet of paper
Speaker 1: before him. He had scarcely glanced up during the entire scene.
Speaker 1: Now he looked briefly and coolly at Jock. Where did
Speaker 1: you get him, he asked, with a precise annunciation of
Speaker 1: the foreign born good figure. And he was his clothes,
Speaker 1: not like a cab driver as the others do. Thanks
Speaker 1: drawled Jock, flushing a little, then boyous curiosity getting the
Speaker 1: better of him, say tell me, what in the world
Speaker 1: are you doing to that drawing? He of the velvety
Speaker 1: eyes smiled a twisted little smile, his slim brown fingers
Speaker 1: never stopping in their work of guiding the pin in
Speaker 1: its zig zag path. It is look, he sneered, to
Speaker 1: delight the soul of an artist. I am now engaged
Speaker 1: in the police of putting the bones in a herring
Speaker 1: bone suit. But Jock did not smile. Here was another man,
Speaker 1: he thought, who had been given a broom and told
Speaker 1: to sweep down the stairway. Von Hermann was regarding him,
Speaker 1: almost wistfully. I hate to let you slip, he said, then,
Speaker 1: his face brightening by jove. I wonder if miss Galt
Speaker 1: would pose for us, if we told her what a
Speaker 1: fix we were in. He picked up the telephone receiver.
Speaker 1: Miss Galt, please, he said, then aside, of course, it's
Speaker 1: nerve to ask a girl who's earning three thousand a
Speaker 1: year to leave her desk and come up and pose
Speaker 1: for hello. Miss Galt. Jock, seated on the edge of
Speaker 1: the model's platform, was beginning to enjoy himself. Even this
Speaker 1: end of the advertising business had its interesting side, he thought.
Speaker 1: Ten minutes later he knew it had. Ten minutes later
Speaker 1: there appeared Miss Galt. Jock left off swinging his legs
Speaker 1: from the platform and stood up. Miss Galt was that
Speaker 1: kind of girl. Smooth black hair parted and coiled low
Speaker 1: as only an exquisitely shaped head can dare to wear
Speaker 1: its glory crown, a face whose expression was sweetly serious
Speaker 1: in spite of its youth. A girl whose clothes were
Speaker 1: the sort of clothes that girls ought to wear in offices.
Speaker 1: And don't this is mighty good of you, Miss Galt,
Speaker 1: began von Herman. It's the cool Comfort Clothes Company's summer
Speaker 1: campaign stuff. We'll only need you for an hour or
Speaker 1: so to get the expression and general outline poster stuff. Really,
Speaker 1: then this young man will pose for the summer Union
Speaker 1: suit pictures. Don't apologize, said Miss Galt. We had a
Speaker 1: hard enough time to get that cool comfort account. We
Speaker 1: don't want to start wrong with the pictures. Besides, I
Speaker 1: think posting's real fun. Jock thought so too. Quite suddenly,
Speaker 1: just as suddenly Von Herman remembered the conventions and introduced them,
Speaker 1: mc chesney repeated Miss Cult crisply, I know a missus
Speaker 1: mc chesney of the Ta Buck my mother proudly your mother?
Speaker 1: Then why she stopped? Because, said Jock, I'm the royest
Speaker 1: rookie in the berg Shriner company, and when I begin
Speaker 1: to realize what I don't know about advertising, I'll probably
Speaker 1: want to plunge off the palisades. Miss Cult smiled up
Speaker 1: at him, her clear, frank eyes meeting his. You'll win,
Speaker 1: she said, even if I lose, I win now, said Jock, suddenly, audacious,
Speaker 1: HI hold that pose, called Von Herman. Happily. End of
Speaker 1: chapter one, Chapter two personality Plus. There are seven stages
Speaker 1: in the evolution of that individual whose appearance is the
Speaker 1: signal for a listless Who do you want to see
Speaker 1: from the white, bloused, drabhaired, anemic little girl who sits
Speaker 1: in the outer office forever reading last month's magazines, the
Speaker 1: badge of fear brands. The novice standing had in hand, nervous, apprehensive, gulpy,
Speaker 1: With the elevator door clanging behind him and the sacred
Speaker 1: inner door closed before him, he offers up a silent
Speaker 1: and paradoxical thank Heaven at the office girl's languid not in,
Speaker 1: and dives into the friendly shelter of the next elevator
Speaker 1: going down. When at that same message he can smile
Speaker 1: as with a certain grim agreeableness, he says, I'll wait. Then.
Speaker 1: Has he reached the seventh stage and taken the orders
Speaker 1: of the regularly ordained Jock McChesney had learned to judge
Speaker 1: an unknown perspective by glancing at his hall rug and stenographer,
Speaker 1: which marks the fifth stage. He had learned to regard
Speaker 1: office boys with something less than white hot hate. He
Speaker 1: had learned to let the other fellow do the talking.
Speaker 1: He had learned to condense a written report into twenty
Speaker 1: five words. And he had learned that there was as
Speaker 1: much difference between the profession of advertising as he had
Speaker 1: thought of it and advertising as it really was, as
Speaker 1: there was between a steam calliope and a cathedral pipe
Speaker 1: organ in the big office of the Berg Shriner Advertising Company.
Speaker 1: They had begun to chuckle a bit over the McChesney
Speaker 1: solicitor's reports. These same reports indicated that young McChesney was
Speaker 1: beginning to find the key to that maddening jumble of
Speaker 1: complexities known as human nature. Big Sam Hupp, who was
Speaker 1: the pet cage to copyrighting genius of the place, used
Speaker 1: even to bring an occasional example of Jock's business bandage
Speaker 1: into the old man's office, and the two with grin
Speaker 1: in secret, as when they ran thus pepsin ail manufacturing company.
Speaker 1: Mister Bum is the kind of gentleman who curses his
Speaker 1: subordinates in front of the whole office force very touchy,
Speaker 1: crumpled his advertising manager. Our chance to get at him
Speaker 1: is when he is in one of his rare good
Speaker 1: moods or e V Cress Company Cress, very difficult to reach.
Speaker 1: Permanent address seems to be in Italy, Egypt and other
Speaker 1: foreign ports. Occasionally his instructions come from palm Beach, at
Speaker 1: which there rose up before the reader a vision of
Speaker 1: Cres himself, backy eyed, cultivated English accent, interested in polo,
Speaker 1: fast growing contemptuous of things. American are still another Hodge
Speaker 1: manufacturing company. Mister Hodge is a very conservative gentleman, sits
Speaker 1: still and lets others do the talking. Has gained quite
Speaker 1: a reputation for a business acumen with this one attribute.
Speaker 1: Spent five hundred dollars last year holding his breath preparatory
Speaker 1: to taking another plunge. It was about the time that
Speaker 1: Jock McChesney had got over the novelty of paying for
Speaker 1: his own clothes and had begun to talk business in
Speaker 1: a slightly patronizing way to his clever and secretly amused mother,
Speaker 1: missrus Emma McChesney, secretary of the t A Buck Featherloom
Speaker 1: Petticode Company, that Sam Hupp noticed a rather cocky over
Speaker 1: assurance in Jock's attitude toward the world in general, whereupon
Speaker 1: he sent for him. On Sam Hupp's broad flat desk
Speaker 1: stood an array of diminutive jars and bottles and tiny
Speaker 1: pots that would have shamed the toilet table of a
Speaker 1: musical comedy star's dressing room. There were rows tinted salves
Speaker 1: and white bottles. There were white creams and rose tinted jars.
Speaker 1: There were tins of ointment and boxes of fragrant soap.
Speaker 1: Jock McChesney, entering briskly, I the array in s some surprise.
Speaker 1: Then he grinned and glanced wickedly at Sam Hup's prematurely
Speaker 1: bald head. No use, mister, Hup, They say, if it's
Speaker 1: once gone, it's gone, get it to pay. Shut up,
Speaker 1: growled Sam hup. Good humoredly, Stay in this game long enough,
Speaker 1: and you'll be a hairless wonder yourself. Ten years ago,
Speaker 1: the girls used to have to tie their hands or
Speaker 1: wear mittens to keep from running their white fingers through
Speaker 1: my waving silken locks. And sit down a minute. Jock
Speaker 1: reached forward and took up a jar of cream. He
Speaker 1: frowned in thought, then thought, I recognize this stuff. Mother
Speaker 1: uses it. I've seen it on the bathroom shelf. You
Speaker 1: bet she uses it, retorted sam hup. What's more, millions
Speaker 1: of other women will be using it in the next
Speaker 1: few years. This woman, he pointed to the name on
Speaker 1: the label, has hit upon the real thing in toilet fluff.
Speaker 1: She's made a little fortune already, and if she don't
Speaker 1: look out, she'll be rich. They've got quite a plant.
Speaker 1: When she started, she used to put the stuff together
Speaker 1: herself over the kitchen stove. They say it's made of
Speaker 1: cottage cheese, stirred, smooth and tinted pink. Well, anyway, they're
Speaker 1: nationally known now, or will be when they start to advertise. Right.
Speaker 1: I've seen some of their stuff advertised somewhere, interrupted Jack,
Speaker 1: but I don't remember. There you are, you see, the
Speaker 1: head of this concern is a little bit frightened at
Speaker 1: the way she seems slated to become a lady cold
Speaker 1: cream magnate. They say she's scared pink for fear somebody
Speaker 1: will steal her recipes. She has a kid nephew who
Speaker 1: acts as general manager, and they're both on the job
Speaker 1: all the time. They say, the lady herself looks like
Speaker 1: the spinster in Abergosh drama. You can get a boy
Speaker 1: to look up your train schedule, train schedule across Jock.
Speaker 1: But Jestney's mind there flashed a vision of himself, alert, confident, brisk,
Speaker 1: taking the luxurious nine o'clock for Philadelphia or maybe the
Speaker 1: Limited to Chicago, dashing down to the station in a taxi,
Speaker 1: of course, strolling down the car aisle to take his
Speaker 1: place among those other thoroughbreds of commerce men whose shammy
Speaker 1: gloves and walking sticks and talk of golf and baseball
Speaker 1: and motoring spelled elegant leisure, even as their keen eyes
Speaker 1: and shrewd faces and low voiced exchange of such terms
Speaker 1: as stocks and sales and propositions proclaimed them intent on
Speaker 1: bagging the day's business. Sam Hup's next words brought him
Speaker 1: back to reality with a jerk. I'll think you have
Speaker 1: to change at Buffalo. It gets you to Tonawanda in
Speaker 1: the morning, Rod and train Dona Wanda repeated, Jock, Now, listen, kid.
Speaker 1: Sam Hup leaned forward, and his eyes, behind their great, round,
Speaker 1: black rimmed glasses were intent on Jock. I'm not going
Speaker 1: to try to steer you. You think that advertising is
Speaker 1: a game, It isn't. There are those who think it's
Speaker 1: a science, but it isn't that either. It's white magic,
Speaker 1: that's what it is. And you can't learn it from
Speaker 1: books any more than you can master trout fishing from
Speaker 1: reading the complete Angler. He swung about and swept the
Speaker 1: beauty lotions before him in a little heap at the
Speaker 1: end of his desk. Here, take this stuff and get
Speaker 1: chummy with it. Need it, if necessary, Learn it somehow
Speaker 1: Jock stood up a little dazed. But what how I mean?
Speaker 1: Sam Hup glanced up at him, sending you down. There
Speaker 1: isn't my idea, it's the old man's. He's got an
Speaker 1: idea that you. He paused and put a detaining hand
Speaker 1: on Jock muc Chesney's arm. Look here, you think I
Speaker 1: I know a little something about advertising, don't you? You laughed, Jack.
Speaker 1: You're the guy who put the whitening in the Great
Speaker 1: White Way. Everyone knows you worthy. Mum, thanks, interrupted sam
Speaker 1: Hup a little dryly. Let me tell you something, young,
Speaker 1: and I've got what you might call a thirty horse
Speaker 1: power mind. I keep it running on high all the
Speaker 1: time with the muffler cut out, and you can hear
Speaker 1: me coming from miles. But the old man he leaned
Speaker 1: forward impressively. The old man boy has the eighty power
Speaker 1: kind built like a watch, no smoke, no dripping, and
Speaker 1: you can't even hear the engine perr. But when he
Speaker 1: throws her open, well he can pass anything on the road.
Speaker 1: Don't forget that. He turned to his desk again and
Speaker 1: reached for a stack of papers and cuts. Good luck
Speaker 1: to you. If you want any further details, you can
Speaker 1: get him from Hayes. He plunged into his work. There
Speaker 1: arose in Jack mcchesney's mind that instinct of a man
Speaker 1: in his hour of triumph, the desire to tell a
Speaker 1: woman of his greatness. He paused a second outside Sam
Speaker 1: Huff's office, turned and walked quickly down the length of
Speaker 1: the great central room. He stopped before a little glass
Speaker 1: door at the end, tapped lightly, and entered. Gray Skalt, copywriter,
Speaker 1: looked up, frowning a little, then she smiled. Miss Scalt
Speaker 1: had a complete layout on the desk before her scrap books, cuts,
Speaker 1: copy magazines. There was a little smudge on the end
Speaker 1: of her nose. Gray Skalt was writing about magnetos. She
Speaker 1: was writing about magnetos in a way to make you
Speaker 1: want to drop your customer, or your ironing, or your
Speaker 1: game and go downtown and buy that particular kind of
Speaker 1: magneto at once, which is the secretest part of the
Speaker 1: wizardry of advertising copy. To look at Gray Skalt, you
Speaker 1: would have thought that she should have been writing about
Speaker 1: the rose tinted jars in Jock mcchestey's hands, instead of
Speaker 1: about such things as ignition and insulation and ball bearings
Speaker 1: and induction windings. But it was gray Scalt's gift that
Speaker 1: she could take such hard, dry technical facts and weave
Speaker 1: them into a story that you followed to the end.
Speaker 1: She could make you see the romance and condensers and transformers.
Speaker 1: She had the power that caused a reader to lose
Speaker 1: himself in the charm of magnetic poles, are ball bearings
Speaker 1: and high tension sparks. Just dropped in to say goodbye,
Speaker 1: said Jock, very casually. I'm going to run upstate to
Speaker 1: see the Athena Company, Tarlette's specialties. You know it ought
Speaker 1: to be a big account Athena. Gray Scalt regarded him absently,
Speaker 1: her mind still on her work. Then her eyes cleared,
Speaker 1: you mean it, Tonawanda, and they're sending you well. She
Speaker 1: put out a congratulatey hand. Jock gripped it gratefully. Not bad, eh,
Speaker 1: he boasted bad, echoed gracecult Her face became serious. Do
Speaker 1: you realize that there are men in this office who
Speaker 1: have been here for five years, six years or even more,
Speaker 1: and who have never been given a chance to do
Speaker 1: anything but stenography or perhaps some private secretary. I know it,
Speaker 1: agreed Jock, but there was no humbleness in his tone.
Speaker 1: He radiated self satisfaction. He seemed to grow and expand
Speaker 1: before her eyes. A little shadow of doubt crept across
Speaker 1: Grace Gult's expression of friendly interest. Are you scared, she asked,
Speaker 1: just the least bit. Jock flushed a little, Well, he
Speaker 1: confessed ruefully. I don't mind telling you I am a
Speaker 1: little good good. Yes, the head of that concern is
Speaker 1: a woman. That's one reason why they don't send me.
Speaker 1: I suppose I I'd like to say something. If you don't
Speaker 1: mind anything you like, said Jock graciously. Well, then don't
Speaker 1: be afraid of being embarrassed and fussed. If you blush
Speaker 1: and stammer a little, she'll like it. Play up the
Speaker 1: Koi stuff. The Koi stuff, echoed Jock. I hadn't thought
Speaker 1: much about my attitude toward the uh the lady a
Speaker 1: little stiffly. Well, you'd better answered miss Gald crisply. She
Speaker 1: put out her hand in much the same manner as
Speaker 1: Sam Hup had used. Good luck to you. I'll have
Speaker 1: to ask you to go now. I'm trying to make
Speaker 1: this magneto sound like something without which no home is complete,
Speaker 1: and to make people see that there's as much difference
Speaker 1: between it and every other magneto, as there is between
Speaker 1: the steam shovels that dug out the Panama Canal and
Speaker 1: the junk that the French left there. She stopped, her
Speaker 1: eyes took on a far away look. Her lips were
Speaker 1: parted slightly. Why that's not a bad idea, that last
Speaker 1: I'll use that, I'll she began to scribble rapidly on
Speaker 1: the sheet of paper before her. With a jolt, Jock
Speaker 1: McChesney realized that she had forgotten all about him. He
Speaker 1: walked quietly to the door, opened it, shut it very quietly,
Speaker 1: and made for the nearest telephone. He knew one woman
Speaker 1: he could count on to be proud of him. He
Speaker 1: gave his number, waited a little eager moment, then featherloon
Speaker 1: petticoat company missus mc chesney, and waited again. Then he smiled,
Speaker 1: you don't need to sound so official, he laughed, Ats
Speaker 1: holy you's son, listen I He took on an elaborate
Speaker 1: carelessness of tone. I've got to make a little jump
Speaker 1: out of town on business. Oh a day or so,
Speaker 1: rather important, though, I'll have time to run up to
Speaker 1: the flat and throw a few things into a bag
Speaker 1: I'll tell you I really ought to keep a bag
Speaker 1: packed down here in case of emergency. You know what,
Speaker 1: it's the Athena Tarlet Preparations Company. Well, I should say
Speaker 1: it is. I'll wire you you bet, thanks my what
Speaker 1: oh toothbrush? Now goodbye. So it was that at three
Speaker 1: ten Jock mc chesney took himself, his hopes, his dread,
Speaker 1: and his smart Walrus bag aboard a train that halted
Speaker 1: and snuffed and backed and bumped and halted with maddening frequency.
Speaker 1: But it landed him at last in a little town
Speaker 1: bearing the characteristics of all American little towns. It was
Speaker 1: surprisingly full of six cylinder cars and five and ten
Speaker 1: cent stores, and banks with doric columns and paved streets.
Speaker 1: After he had registered at the hotel, and as he
Speaker 1: was cleaning up a bit, he passed an amused eye
Speaker 1: over the bare, ugly, fusty little hotel bedroom. But somehow,
Speaker 1: as he stood in the middle of the room, a graceful,
Speaker 1: pleasing figure of youth confidence, the smile faded. Towel in hand,
Speaker 1: he surveyed the barrenness of it. He stared at the
Speaker 1: impossible wallpaper, at the battered furniture, the worn carpet. He
Speaker 1: sniffed the stuffy smell of what was that smell anyhow,
Speaker 1: straw and matting and dust, and the ghost odor of
Speaker 1: hundreds who had occupied the room before him. He came
Speaker 1: over him with something of a shock that this same
Speaker 1: sort of room had been his mother's only home in
Speaker 1: the ten years she had spent on the road as
Speaker 1: a traveling saleswoman for the t A Buck featherloom petticoat company.
Speaker 1: This was what she had left in the morning to
Speaker 1: this she had come back at night. As he stared
Speaker 1: ahead of him, there rose before him a mental picture
Speaker 1: of her, the brightness of her, the sunniness, the indomitable energy,
Speaker 1: the pluck and courage. With a sudden burst of new determination,
Speaker 1: he wadded the towel into a moist ball, flung it
Speaker 1: at the washstand, seized hat, coat and gloves, and was
Speaker 1: off down the hall. So it was, with something of
Speaker 1: his mother's splendid courage in his heart, but with nothing
Speaker 1: of her canny knowledge in his head, Jock mcchestney fared
Speaker 1: forth to do battle with the merciless god business. It
Speaker 1: was ten thirty of a brilliant morning just two days
Speaker 1: later that a buoyant young figure swung into an elevator
Speaker 1: in the great office building that housed the Berg Shriner
Speaker 1: Advertising Company. Just one more grain of buoyant swing, and
Speaker 1: the young man's walk might have been termed a swagger,
Speaker 1: as it was, his walrus bag just saved her. Stepping
Speaker 1: out of the lift, he walked as from habit to
Speaker 1: the little unlettered door which admitted employees to the big, bright,
Speaker 1: inner office, but he did not use it. Instead, he
Speaker 1: turned suddenly and walked down down the hall to the
Speaker 1: double door which led into the reception room. He threw
Speaker 1: out his legs stiffly and came down rather flat footed,
Speaker 1: the way George Kohan does when he's pleased with himself.
Speaker 1: In the second act, Hello Mack, he called out jovially. Mac,
Speaker 1: the usher so called from his Machiavellian qualities, turned to
Speaker 1: survey the radiant young figure before him. Good morning, mister
Speaker 1: mc chesney, He made answer smoothly. Mack never forgot himself.
Speaker 1: His keen eyes saw the little halo of self satisfaction
Speaker 1: that hovered above Jack mcchesney's head. A successful trip. I
Speaker 1: seeing Jack McChesney, laughed a little pleased, conscious laugh. Well Rather,
Speaker 1: he drawled and opened the door leading into the main office.
Speaker 1: He had been loath to lose one crumb of the
Speaker 1: saber of it. Still smiling, he walked to his own
Speaker 1: desk with a nod here and there, dropped his bag,
Speaker 1: took off his coat and hat, selected a cigarette, tapped it, smartly,
Speaker 1: lighted it, and was off down the big room to
Speaker 1: the little cubby hole at the other end. But Sam
Speaker 1: Hup's plump, keen, good humored face did not greet him.
Speaker 1: As he entered. The little room was deserted. Frowning, Jock
Speaker 1: sank into the empty desk chair. He cradled his head
Speaker 1: in his hands, tilted the chair, pursed his mouth over
Speaker 1: the slender white cylinder, and squinted his eyes up toward
Speaker 1: the lazy blue spirals of smoke, the very picture of
Speaker 1: content and satisfaction. Hupp was in attending some conference in
Speaker 1: the old Man's office. Of course, he wished they'd hurry.
Speaker 1: The business of the week was being boiled down there.
Speaker 1: Those conferences were great cauldrons into which the day's business,
Speaker 1: or the weeks was dumped to be boiled, summered, stirred, skimmed, cooled.
Speaker 1: Jock had never been privileged to attend one of these meetings.
Speaker 1: Perhaps by this time next week he might have a
Speaker 1: spoon in the stirring too. There came a murmur of
Speaker 1: voices as a door was opened. The voices came nearer,
Speaker 1: then quick footsteps. Jock recognized them. He rose, smiling. Sam Hup,
Speaker 1: vibrating electric energy breezed in. Oh hello, he said, surprised,
Speaker 1: Jock's smile widening to a grin. You back, hello, hop,
Speaker 1: he said coolly. It was the first time that he
Speaker 1: had omitted the prefix. You just bet I'm back there
Speaker 1: flashed across Sam Hup's face. A curious little look. The
Speaker 1: next instant it was gone, well, said Jock, and took
Speaker 1: a long breath. Mister Burgh wants to see you. Hup
Speaker 1: plunged into his work. Me the old man wants to
Speaker 1: see me, yes, snapped Hup sharply, then in a new tone,
Speaker 1: Look here, son, if he says, He stopped and turned
Speaker 1: back to his work again. Navy says, what nothing? Better
Speaker 1: run along? What's the hurry I want to tell you about?
Speaker 1: Better tell him? Oh all right, said Jock stiffly. If
Speaker 1: that was the way they treated a fellow who had
Speaker 1: turned his first real trick, Why very well. He flung
Speaker 1: out of the little room and made straight for the
Speaker 1: old Man's office. Seated at his great flat table desk,
Speaker 1: Bartholomew Burgh did not look up as Jock entered. This
Speaker 1: was characteristic of the old man. Everything about the chief
Speaker 1: was deliberate, sure, unhurried. He finished the work in hand
Speaker 1: as though no other person stood there waiting his pleasure.
Speaker 1: When at last he raised his massive head, he turned
Speaker 1: his penetrating, pale blue eyes full on Jock. Jock was
Speaker 1: conscious of a little trimmor running through him. People were
Speaker 1: apt to experience that feeling when that steady, unblinking gaze
Speaker 1: was turned upon them. And yet it was just a clear,
Speaker 1: unwavering look with which Bartholomew Burg former boy had been
Speaker 1: wont to gaze out across the fresh plowed fields to
Speaker 1: the horizon beyond which lay the city he dreamed about.
Speaker 1: Tell me your side of it, said Bartholomew Burg, urtling
Speaker 1: all of it. Jock's confidence was returning till I stop
Speaker 1: you well, began Jock. And standing there at the side
Speaker 1: of the old Man's desk, his legs wide apart, his
Speaker 1: face aglow, his hands on his hips, he plunged into
Speaker 1: his tail. It started off with a bang from the
Speaker 1: minute I walked into the office of the plant and
Speaker 1: met Snyder, the advertising manager. We shook hands and sparked
Speaker 1: just like that. He snapped his thumb and finger. What
Speaker 1: do you think we belonged to the same frat? He's
Speaker 1: ninety three. Inside of ten minutes, he and I were
Speaker 1: a sigh washing around like mad. He introduced me to
Speaker 1: his aunt. I told her who I was and all that,
Speaker 1: but I didn't start off by talking business. We got
Speaker 1: along from the jump. They both insisted on showing me
Speaker 1: through the place. I well, he laughed a little ruefully.
Speaker 1: There's something about being shown through a factory that sort
Speaker 1: of paralyzes my brain. I always feel that I ought
Speaker 1: to be asking keen alert, intelligent questions like the ones
Speaker 1: Kipling always asks are the Japs when they're taken through
Speaker 1: the stockyards, But I never can't think of any Well,
Speaker 1: we didn't talk business much, but I could see that
Speaker 1: they were interested. They seemed to. He faltered and blushed
Speaker 1: a little two like me. You know. I played golf
Speaker 1: with Snyder that afternoon, and he beat me won two balls.
Speaker 1: The next morning. I've found there's been a couple of
Speaker 1: other advertising men there, And while I was talking to Snyder,
Speaker 1: he was telling me about the time he climbed up
Speaker 1: and muffled the chapel bell that fellow Flynn of the
Speaker 1: Dowt Agency came in. Snyder excused himself and talked to
Speaker 1: him for oh half an hour perhaps, but that was all.
Speaker 1: He was back again in no time after that. It
Speaker 1: looked like plain ceiling. We got along wonderfully. When I left,
Speaker 1: I said, I expect to know you both better, I guess,
Speaker 1: interrupted the old man slowly, that you'll know them better,
Speaker 1: all right. He reached out with one broad, freckled hand
Speaker 1: and turned back the page of a desk memorandum. The
Speaker 1: Athena account was given to the Dowed Advertising Agency yesterday.
Speaker 1: It took Jock mc chesney one minute, one long, sickening minute,
Speaker 1: to grasp the full meaning of it all. He stared
Speaker 1: at the massive figure before him, his mouth ludicrously opened,
Speaker 1: his eyes round, his breath for the moment suspended. Then,
Speaker 1: in a queer, husky voice, do you mean the dowd
Speaker 1: But they couldn't. I mean, said Bartholomew Berg, that you've
Speaker 1: scored what the dramatic critics call a personal hit. But
Speaker 1: that doesn't get the box office anything. But mister Perkh,
Speaker 1: they said, sit down a minute, boy. He waved one
Speaker 1: great heavy hand toward a nearby chair. His eyes were
Speaker 1: not fixed on Jock. They gazed out of the window
Speaker 1: toward the great white tower, toward which hundreds of thousands
Speaker 1: of eyes were turned daily, the tower, fourfaced, but faithful,
Speaker 1: but jesting. Do you know why you fell down on
Speaker 1: that Athena account? Because I'm an idiot, blurted Jock. Because
Speaker 1: I'm a double barreled, corn fed, handpicked chump. And that's
Speaker 1: one reason, drawled the old man grimly. But it's not
Speaker 1: the chief one. The real reason why you didn't land
Speaker 1: that account was because you're two drned charming. Charming, Jock stared,
Speaker 1: just that. Personality is one of the biggest factors in
Speaker 1: business today. But there are some men who are so
Speaker 1: likable that it actually counts against them. The client he's
Speaker 1: trying to convince is so taken with him that he
Speaker 1: actually forgets the business he represents. We say of a
Speaker 1: man like that, that he is personality plus personality is
Speaker 1: like electricity. McChesney. It's got to be tamed to be useful.
Speaker 1: But I thought, said Jock miserably, that the idea was
Speaker 1: not to talk business all the time. You got it,
Speaker 1: agreed Berg. But you must think it all the time,
Speaker 1: every minute. It's got to be working away in the
Speaker 1: back of your head. You know, it isn't always the
Speaker 1: biggest noise that gets the biggest result. The Great American
Speaker 1: hen yields a bigger income than the Steel Trust. Look
Speaker 1: at miss Galt. When we have a job that needs
Speaker 1: a woman's eye, do we send her no? Why because
Speaker 1: she's too blame charming, too much personality. A man just
Speaker 1: naturally refuses to talk business to a pretty woman, unless
Speaker 1: she's so smart that my mother interrupted Jock suddenly, and
Speaker 1: then stopped, surprised at himself. Your mother, said Bartholomew Burg slowly,
Speaker 1: is one woman in a million. Don't never forget that.
Speaker 1: They don't turn out models like Emma mc chesney more
Speaker 1: than once every blue moon. Jock got to his feet slowly.
Speaker 1: He felt heavy. Old I suppose he began that this
Speaker 1: ends my my advertising career? Is it? The old man
Speaker 1: stood up and put a heavy hand on the boy's shoulder.
Speaker 1: It only begins it unless you want to lie down
Speaker 1: and quit. Do you quit, cried Jock mc chesney. Quit,
Speaker 1: Not on your white space, good, said Bartholomew Burgh, and
Speaker 1: he took Jock mc chesney's hand in his own, great,
Speaker 1: friendly grasp. An instinct as strong as that which had
Speaker 1: made him blatant in his hour of triumph, now caused
Speaker 1: him to avoid, in his hour of defeat, the women
Speaker 1: folk before whom he would fain be a hero. He
Speaker 1: avoided Grace gult. All that long, dreary afternoon, he thought
Speaker 1: wildly of staying down town for the evening, of putting
Speaker 1: off the meeting with his mother, of avoiding the dreaded explanations, excuses, confessions.
Speaker 1: But when he let himself into the flat at five thirty,
Speaker 1: the place was very quiet, except for Annie humming in
Speaker 1: a sort of nasal sing song of content. In the kitchen.
Speaker 1: He flicked on the light. In the living room, a
Speaker 1: new magazine had come. It lay on the table, its
Speaker 1: bright cover staring up invitingly. He ran through its pages.
Speaker 1: By force of habit. He turned to the back pages.
Speaker 1: Ads stared back at him, clothing ads, paint ads, motor ads,
Speaker 1: ads of portable houses and vacuum cleaners, and tarlet preparations.
Speaker 1: He shut the magazine with a vicious slap. He flicked
Speaker 1: off the light again, for no reason except that he
Speaker 1: seemed to light the dusk. In his own bedroom, it
Speaker 1: was very quiet. He turned on the light there too,
Speaker 1: then turned it off. He sat down at the edge
Speaker 1: of his bed. How was it in the stories? Oh, yes,
Speaker 1: the cub always started out on an impossibly difficult business
Speaker 1: stunt and came back triumphant to be made a member
Speaker 1: of the firm. At once A vision of his own
Speaker 1: rosy in hopes and dreams rose up before him. It
Speaker 1: grew very dark in the little room, then all together dark.
Speaker 1: Then an imputed square of yellow from a light turned
Speaker 1: on in the apartment next door, flung itself on the
Speaker 1: bedroom floor. Jock stared at it moodily. A key turned
Speaker 1: in the lock, A door opened and shut A quick
Speaker 1: step then jock al light flashed in the living room.
Speaker 1: Jock sat up. Suddenly he opened his mouth to answer.
Speaker 1: There issued from his throat a strange and absurd little croak.
Speaker 1: Jock Home. Yes, answered Jock, and straightened up. But before
Speaker 1: he could flick on his own light, his mother stood
Speaker 1: in the doorway, a tall, straight, buoyant figure. I got
Speaker 1: your wire. And why dear, in the dark, what must
Speaker 1: have fallen asleep? I guess, muttered Jock. Somehow he dreaded
Speaker 1: to turn on the lights. And then very quietly Emma
Speaker 1: mc chesney came in. She found him there in the dark,
Speaker 1: as surely as a mother bear finds her cubs in
Speaker 1: a cave. She sat down beside him at the edge
Speaker 1: of the bed, and put her hand on his shoulder,
Speaker 1: and brought his head down gently to her breast. And
Speaker 1: at that the room, which had been a man's room,
Speaker 1: with its pipe, its tobacco jar, its tie rack, filled
Speaker 1: with cravats of fascinating shapes and ewes, became all at
Speaker 1: once a boy's room again, and the man sitting there,
Speaker 1: with straight, strong shoulders and his little air of worldliness, became,
Speaker 1: in some miraculous way, a little boy again. End of
Speaker 1: chapter two. Chapter three dictated but not read about the
Speaker 1: time that Jack mc chesney began to carry a yellow
Speaker 1: walking stick down to work each morning. His mother noticed
Speaker 1: a growing tendency on his part to patronize her. Now,
Speaker 1: missrus Emma mc chesney, successful capable business woman that she was,
Speaker 1: could afford to regard her young son's attitude with a
Speaker 1: quiet and deep amusement. In twelve years, Emma mc chesney
Speaker 1: had risen from the humble position of stenographer in the
Speaker 1: office of the T. A. Buck, Featherloon Petticot Company to
Speaker 1: the secretaryship of that firm. So in her young son,
Speaker 1: backed by the profound business knowledge gained in his one
Speaker 1: year with the Berg Shriner Advertising Company, hinted gently that
Speaker 1: her methods and training were archaic, ineffectual, and lacking in
Speaker 1: those twin condiments known to the twentieth century as pep
Speaker 1: and ginger. She would listen, eyebrows raised, lower lip caught
Speaker 1: between her teeth, a trick which gives a distorted expression
Speaker 1: to the features, calculated to hide any lurking tendency to grin. Besides,
Speaker 1: though Emma mc chesney was forty, she looked thirty two,
Speaker 1: as business women do, and knew it. Her hard working
Speaker 1: life had brought her in contact with people and things
Speaker 1: and events, and had kept her young. Thank fortune, missrus
Speaker 1: mc chesney often said that I wasn't cursed with the
Speaker 1: life of ease. These massage at ten fitting at eleven
Speaker 1: bridget one women always looked such hags at thirty five,
Speaker 1: but repetition will ruin the rarest of jokes. As the
Speaker 1: weeks went on and Jock's attitude persisted, the twinkle in
Speaker 1: Emma mc chesney's eye died. The glow of growing resentment
Speaker 1: began to burn in its place. Now and then there
Speaker 1: crept into her eyes a little look of doubt and bewilderment.
Speaker 1: You sometimes see that same little, shocked, dazed expression in
Speaker 1: the eyes of a woman whose husband has just said,
Speaker 1: isn't that hat too young for you? Then one evening,
Speaker 1: Emma mc chesney's resentment flared into open revolt. She had
Speaker 1: announced that she intended to rise half an hour earlier
Speaker 1: each morning in order that she might walk a brisk
Speaker 1: mile or so on her way down town before taking
Speaker 1: the subway. But won't it tire you too much? Mother,
Speaker 1: Jock had asked, with maddeningly tender solicitude. His mother's color heightened,
Speaker 1: her blue eyes glowed dark. Look here, Jock, will you
Speaker 1: kindly lean on me? Grandma? Stuff To hear you talk,
Speaker 1: one would think I was ready for a wheelchair in
Speaker 1: gray woolen bedroom slippers. Why I didn't mean. I only
Speaker 1: thought that, perhaps over exertion and a woman of your
Speaker 1: that is you need your energy for. Don't wallow around,
Speaker 1: and it snapped, Emma McChesney. You'll only sink in deeper
Speaker 1: in your efforts to crawl out. I merely want to
Speaker 1: warn you that if you persist in this pose of
Speaker 1: tender solicitude for your dollaring old mother, I'll I'll present
Speaker 1: you with a stepfather a year younger than you. Don't laugh.
Speaker 1: Perhaps you think I couldn't do it, good lord mother,
Speaker 1: of course you don't mean it, but mean it. Cleverer
Speaker 1: woman than I have been driven by their children to
Speaker 1: marrying bell boys. In self defense, I warn you that
Speaker 1: stopped it for a while. Jock ceased to bestow upon
Speaker 1: his muther the judicious advice from the vast storehouse of
Speaker 1: his own experience. He refrained from breaking out with elaborate
Speaker 1: advertising schemes, whereby the Ta buck, Featherloon Petticoat company might
Speaker 1: grind every other skirt concern to dust. He gave only
Speaker 1: a startled look when his mother mischievously suggested raspberry as
Speaker 1: the color for her new autumn suit. Then, quite suddenly
Speaker 1: circumstance caught Emma mc chesney in the meshes, and before
Speaker 1: she had fought her way free, wrought trouble and change
Speaker 1: upon her. Jock McChesney was seated in the window of
Speaker 1: his mother's office at noon of a brilliant autumn day.
Speaker 1: A little impatient frown was farming between his eyes. He
Speaker 1: wanted his luncheon. He had called around expressly to take
Speaker 1: his mother out to luncheon, always a festive occasion would
Speaker 1: taken together. But missus McChesney, seated at her desk, was
Speaker 1: bent absorbidly over a sheet of paper, whereon she was
Speaker 1: adding up two columns of figures at a time, a
Speaker 1: trick on which she rather prided herself. She was counting aloud,
Speaker 1: her mind leaping agilely. Thus eleven twenty nine, forty three,
Speaker 1: sixty sixty nine. Her pencil came down on the desk
Speaker 1: with a whack. Sixty nine, she repeated in capital letters.
Speaker 1: She turned around to face Jock sixty nine. Her voice
Speaker 1: bristled with indignation. Now what do you think of that?
Speaker 1: I think you'd better make it an even seventy or
Speaker 1: whatever it is you're counting up, and come on out
Speaker 1: to luncheon. I'm an appointment at two fifteen, you know, luncheon.
Speaker 1: She waved the paper in the air. With this outrage
Speaker 1: on my mind, nectar would curdle in my system. Jock
Speaker 1: rose and strolled lazily over to the desk. What is it,
Speaker 1: he glanced idly at the sheet of paper. Sixty nine?
Speaker 1: What missus mcchae pressed the buzzer at the side of
Speaker 1: her desk. Sixty nine dollars, that's what, representing two days'
Speaker 1: expenses in the six weeks missionary trip that fat admirers
Speaker 1: just made for us, and in Iowa too. When you
Speaker 1: gave that fellow the job began, Jock hotly, I told you,
Speaker 1: and Buck told you that, Missus mc chesney interrupted wearily. Yes,
Speaker 1: I know you'll never have a grander chance to say,
Speaker 1: I told you so. I hired him because he was
Speaker 1: out of a job and we needed a man who
Speaker 1: knew the Middle Western trade. And then because well, poor
Speaker 1: fellow he begged so and promised to keep straight, as
Speaker 1: though I oughtn't to know that a pe nuckle and
Speaker 1: poker traveling man can never be anything but a p
Speaker 1: nuckle and poker traveling man. The office door opened as
Speaker 1: there appeared an answer to the buzzer, a very alert,
Speaker 1: very smiling and very tight office girl Emma mc chesney
Speaker 1: had tried office boys and found them wanting tell mister Myers,
Speaker 1: I want to see him. Just gone out to lunch.
Speaker 1: She turned like a racehorse, trembling to be off, putting
Speaker 1: on his overcoat in the front office. Shall I catch him?
Speaker 1: Listen here, began Jock uncomfortably. If you're going to call him,
Speaker 1: perhaps I'd better vanish to save Ed Myers's tender feelings.
Speaker 1: You don't know him. Fat Ed Meyers could be court martialed, tried, convicted,
Speaker 1: and publicly disgraced, with his epaulets torn off and his
Speaker 1: sword broken, and likely as not, he stooped down, pick
Speaker 1: up a splinter of steel to use as a toothpick,
Speaker 1: and Castle walked down the aisle to the tune with
Speaker 1: which they were drumming him out of the regiment. Stay
Speaker 1: right here, Myers's explanation ought to be at least amusing,
Speaker 1: if not educating. In the corridor outside could be heard
Speaker 1: someone blithely humming in the throaty tenor of the fat Man.
Speaker 1: The humming ceased with a last high note as the
Speaker 1: door opened, and there entered fat admirers Rosy Cherubic, smiling
Speaker 1: his huge frame looming mountainous in the rippling folds of
Speaker 1: a loose hung London plaid top coat. Greetings boomed the
Speaker 1: cheery vision. Raising one hand palm outward in mystic salute,
Speaker 1: he beamed upon the frowning Jock. How's the infant prodigy?
Speaker 1: The fact that Jock's frown deepened to a scowl ruffled
Speaker 1: him not at all. And what went on? He crossing
Speaker 1: his feet and leaning negligently against missus mc chesney's desk.
Speaker 1: And what can I do for thee fair lady for me,
Speaker 1: said Emma mc chesney, looking up at him through narrowed eyelids.
Speaker 1: I'll tell you what you can explain to me in
Speaker 1: what they call a few well chosen words, just how
Speaker 1: you or any other living creature could manage to turn
Speaker 1: in an expense account like that on a six weeks
Speaker 1: missionary trip through the Middle West, dear lady, in the
Speaker 1: bland tones that one uses to an unreasonable child. He
Speaker 1: will need no explanation, if you will just remember to
Speaker 1: lay the stress on the word missionary. I went forth
Speaker 1: through the Middle West to spread the light among the
Speaker 1: benightedskir trade. This wasn't a selling trip, dear lady, it
Speaker 1: was a buying expedition, and I had to buie, didn't
Speaker 1: I all the way from Michigan to Indiana? He smiled
Speaker 1: down at her, calm, self assured, impudent. A little flush
Speaker 1: grew in Emma mc chesney's cheeks have always said. She began, crisply,
Speaker 1: that one could pretty well judge a man's character, temperament, morals,
Speaker 1: and physical make up by just glancing at his expense account.
Speaker 1: The trouble with you is that you haven't learned the
Speaker 1: art of spending money wisely. It isn't always the man
Speaker 1: with the largest expense sheet that gets the most business,
Speaker 1: and it isn't the man who leaves the greatest number
Speaker 1: of circles on the tabletop in his hotel room either.
Speaker 1: She paused a moment, Edmires's smile had lost some of
Speaker 1: its heartiness. Mister Buck's out of town, as you know,
Speaker 1: he'll be back next week. He wasn't in favor of now, missus,
Speaker 1: McChesney interrupted admirers nervously. You know, there's always one live
Speaker 1: one in every firm, just like there's always one star
Speaker 1: in every family. You're the I'm the one who wants
Speaker 1: to know how you could spend sixty nine dollars for
Speaker 1: two days incidentals in Iowa, Iowa. Why look here, Admires,
Speaker 1: I made Iowa for ten years when I was on
Speaker 1: the road. You know that, and you know and I
Speaker 1: know that in order to spend sixty nine dollars for
Speaker 1: incidentals in two days in Iowa, you have to call
Speaker 1: out the militia. Not when you're trying to win the
Speaker 1: love of every skirt fire from Sioux City to Des Moines.
Speaker 1: Emma McChesney rose impatiently. Oh, that's nonsense. You don't need
Speaker 1: to do that these days. Those are old fashioned methods.
Speaker 1: They're out of date. They at that. A little sound
Speaker 1: came from Jock. Emma heard it, glanced at him, turned
Speaker 1: away again in confusion. I was foolish enough in the
Speaker 1: first place to give you this job. For old time's sake,
Speaker 1: she continued, hurriedly. Fat Admires's face drooped dolefully. He cocked
Speaker 1: his round head on one side, fatuously for old time's sake,
Speaker 1: he repeated, with tremulous pathos, and heaved a gusty sigh,
Speaker 1: which goes to show that I need a guardian, finished
Speaker 1: Emma McChesney cruelly. The only old times that I can remember,
Speaker 1: or when I was selling feather looms and you were
Speaker 1: out for the Sands Silk Skirt Company, both covering the
Speaker 1: same territory, and both running a year round race to
Speaker 1: see which could beat the other at its own game.
Speaker 1: The only difference was that I always played fair, while
Speaker 1: you played low down whenever you had a chance. Now,
Speaker 1: my dear missus McChesney, that'll be all, said Emma McChesney,
Speaker 1: as one whose patience is fast slipping away. Mister Buck
Speaker 1: will see you next week, then turning to her son,
Speaker 1: as the door closed on the drooping figure of the
Speaker 1: erstwhile boyant myers, where are we lunch? Jock? Mother, Jock
Speaker 1: broke out hotly, Why in the name of all that's
Speaker 1: foolish do you persist in using the methods of Mathuselah.
Speaker 1: People don't sell goods anymore by sending out fat, old
Speaker 1: extra traveling men to jolly up the trade? Jock repeated
Speaker 1: Emma mc chesney slowly. Where shall we lunch? It was
Speaker 1: a grim little meal, eaten almost in silence. Emma mc
Speaker 1: chesney had made it a rule to use luncheon time
Speaker 1: as a recess, she played mental tag and hopscotch, so that,
Speaker 1: returning to her office refreshed in mind and body, she
Speaker 1: could attack the afternoon's work with new vicar, and never
Speaker 1: did she talk or think business today. She ate her
Speaker 1: luncheon with a forced appetite, glanced about with a listlessness
Speaker 1: far removed from her usual alert interest, and followed Jock's
Speaker 1: attempts to conversation with a polite effort that was more
Speaker 1: insulting than downright inattention dessert mother Jock had to say
Speaker 1: it twice before she heard what, oh, no, I think not.
Speaker 1: The waiter hesitated, coughed, discreetly lifted his eyebrows, insinuatingly. The
Speaker 1: French pastries particularly nice, to madame. If you care to
Speaker 1: try something, Eclaire Madam, peach tart mocha, tart caramel. Emma
Speaker 1: mc chesney smiled. It does sound tempting, she glanced at Jock.
Speaker 1: And we're wearing our gowns so floppy this year that
Speaker 1: it makes no difference whether one's fat or not. She
Speaker 1: turned to the waiter. I never can tell till I
Speaker 1: see them. Bring your pastry tray, will you? Jock mcchestey's
Speaker 1: finger and thumb came together with a snap. He leaned
Speaker 1: across the table toward his mother, eyes glowing, lips parted
Speaker 1: and eager. There you've proved my point point about advertising. No,
Speaker 1: don't stop me. Don't you see what applies to pastry
Speaker 1: applies to petticoats. You didn't think of French pastry until
Speaker 1: he suggested it to You advertised it really, and then
Speaker 1: you wanted a picture of them. You wanted to know
Speaker 1: what they look like before buying. That's all there is
Speaker 1: to advertising. Telling people about a thing, makin em want it,
Speaker 1: and showIn em how it will look when they have it.
Speaker 1: Get me, Emma mc chesney was gazing at Jock with
Speaker 1: a curious, fascinated stare. It was a blank little look,
Speaker 1: such as we sometimes wear when the mind is working furiously.
Speaker 1: If the insinuating waiter presenting the laden tray for her
Speaker 1: inspection was startled by the rapt expression which she turned
Speaker 1: upon the cunningly wrought wares, he was too much a
Speaker 1: waiter to show it. A pause that one, said missus
Speaker 1: mc chesney, pointing to the least ornate. She ate it
Speaker 1: down to the last crumb in a silence that was
Speaker 1: pregnant with portent, she put down her fork and sat back. Jock,
Speaker 1: you win. I I suppose I have fallen out a step.
Speaker 1: Perhaps I've been too busy watching my own feet. T
Speaker 1: A will be back next week. Could your office have
Speaker 1: an advertising plan roughly sketched by that time? Good today?
Speaker 1: His tone was exultant. Watch him. Hup's been crazy to
Speaker 1: make Featherloums famous. But look here, son, I want a
Speaker 1: hand in that copy. I know Featherloums better than your
Speaker 1: Sam Hupp will ever, Jock shook his head. They won't
Speaker 1: stand for that, mother, It never works. The manufacturer always
Speaker 1: thinks he can write magic stuff because he knows his
Speaker 1: own product, but he never can. You see, he knows
Speaker 1: too much. That's it, no perspective, we'll see, said Emma
Speaker 1: McChesney curtly. So it was that ten days later the
Speaker 1: first important conference in the interests of the Featherloom Petticot
Speaker 1: Company's advertising campaign was called. But in those ten days
Speaker 1: of hurried preparation, a little silent tragedy had come about.
Speaker 1: For the first time in her brave, sunny life, Emma
Speaker 1: McChesney had lost faith in herself and with such malicious humor,
Speaker 1: does fate work her will that she chose sam Hup's
Speaker 1: new dictograph as the instrument with which to prick the
Speaker 1: bubble of missus mcchesney's self confidence. Sam Hupp, one of
Speaker 1: the copywriting marvels of the berg Shriner firm, had a
Speaker 1: trick of forgetting to shut off certain necessary currents when
Speaker 1: he paused in his dictation to throw in conversational asides.
Speaker 1: The old and experienced stenographers had learned to look out
Speaker 1: for that, and to eliminate from their typewritten letters certain
Speaker 1: irrelevant and sometimes irreverent sides, which sam Hup evidently had
Speaker 1: addressed to his pipe or the office boy, and was
Speaker 1: not intended for the tube of the all devouring dictograph.
Speaker 1: There was a new and nervous little stenographer in the
Speaker 1: outer office, and she had not been warned of this.
Speaker 1: We think very highly of the plan you suggest, sam Hupp,
Speaker 1: had said into the dictograph's mouthpiece. In fact, then one
Speaker 1: of your valuable copies of questions you. Without changing his tone,
Speaker 1: he glanced over his shoulder at his colleague Hopper, who
Speaker 1: was listening and approving. Let the old girl think the
Speaker 1: ideas her own. She's virtually the head of that concern,
Speaker 1: and they've spoiled her successful and used to being caught
Speaker 1: out to doesn't know her notions of copy are ten
Speaker 1: years behind the advertising game, and went on with his
Speaker 1: letter again, after which he left the office to play golf,
Speaker 1: and the little blond numbskull in the outer office dutifully
Speaker 1: took down what the instrument had to say word for word,
Speaker 1: marked it, dictated but not read, signed, neat initials, and
Speaker 1: with a sigh, went on with the rest of her
Speaker 1: sheaf of letters. Emma mc chesney read the letter next morning.
Speaker 1: She read it down to the end and then again.
Speaker 1: The two readings were punctuated with a little gasp, such
Speaker 1: as we give when an icy douche is suddenly turned
Speaker 1: upon us. And that was all. A week later, an
Speaker 1: intent little group formed a ragged circle about the big
Speaker 1: table in the private office of Bartholomew Burg, head of
Speaker 1: the Berg Schrider advertising Company. Bartholomew Berg, himself massive, watchful, taciturn,
Speaker 1: managing to give an impression of power by his very silence,
Speaker 1: sat at one side of the long table. Just across
Speaker 1: from him, a sleek haired stenographer bent over her notebook,
Speaker 1: jotting down every word that the conference might make business history.
Speaker 1: Hopper at one end of the room, studied his shoe
Speaker 1: heel intently. He was unbelievably boyish, looking to command the
Speaker 1: fabulous salary reported to be his advertising men mentioning his name,
Speaker 1: pulled a figurative forelock as they did so. Near Missus.
Speaker 1: McChesney sat Sam hupp heave of the lightning brain in
Speaker 1: the sure Fire copy. Emma McChesney, strangely silent, kept her
Speaker 1: eyes intent on the faces of the others. T a
Speaker 1: buck interested, enthusiastic, but somewhat uncertain, glanced now and then
Speaker 1: at his silent business partner, found no satisfaction in her
Speaker 1: set face, and glanced away again. Gray Skalt, unbelievably young
Speaker 1: and pretty to have won a place for herself in
Speaker 1: that conference of business people, smiled in secret at Jock
Speaker 1: mc chesney's evident struggle to conceal his elation at being
Speaker 1: present at this his first staff meeting. The conference had
Speaker 1: lasted one hour now. In that time, frethloom petticoats had
Speaker 1: been picked to pieces, bit by bit from him to waistband.
Speaker 1: Nothing had been left untouched. Every angle had come under
Speaker 1: the keen vision of the advertising experts, the comfort of
Speaker 1: the garment, its durability, style, cheapness service which to emphasize
Speaker 1: hm novelty campaign. In my opinion, said Hopper, breaking one
Speaker 1: of his long silent lenses. There's nothing new in petticoats themselves.
Speaker 1: You know, you've got to give them a new angle. Yep, agreed, hup,
Speaker 1: start out with a feature skirt might illustrate with one
Speaker 1: of those freaked drawings they're crazy about now, slinky figure,
Speaker 1: you know, hollow chested, one foot, trailing and all that.
Speaker 1: They're crazy, but they do retract attention, no doubt of that.
Speaker 1: Bartholomew Berg turned his head slowly. Oh what's your opinion,
Speaker 1: missus McChesney, he asked. I'm I'm afraid I haven't any,
Speaker 1: said Emma McChesney listlessly. Ta Buck stared at her in
Speaker 1: dismay and amazement. How about you, mister Buck? Why? Of
Speaker 1: course this advertising game's new to me. I'm really leaving
Speaker 1: it in your hands. I really thought that missus mcchesney's
Speaker 1: idea was to make a point of the fact that
Speaker 1: these petticoats were not a freak petticoat, but skirts for
Speaker 1: the everyday woman. She gave me what I thought was
Speaker 1: a London argument a week ago. He turned to her. Helplessly.
Speaker 1: Missus McChesney sat silent. Bartholomew Burgh leaned forward a little
Speaker 1: and smiled one of his rare smiles. Won't you tell us,
Speaker 1: missus McChesney, we'd all like to hear what you have
Speaker 1: to say. Missus McChesney looked down at her hands. Then
Speaker 1: she looked up and addressed what she had to say
Speaker 1: straight to Bartholomew Burgh. I simply don't want to interfere
Speaker 1: in this business. I know nothing about it. Really. Of
Speaker 1: course I do know featherloom petticoats, I know all about them.
Speaker 1: It seemed to me that just because the newspapers and
Speaker 1: magazines were full of pictures showing spectacular creatures and impossible
Speaker 1: attitudes wearing tango tea skirts, we are apt to forget
Speaker 1: that those types form only a thin upper crust, and
Speaker 1: that down beneath there are millions and millions of regular
Speaker 1: everyday women doing everyday things in regular everyday clothes, women
Speaker 1: who wash on Monday and iron on Tuesday, and bake
Speaker 1: one egg cakes, and who have to harry home to
Speaker 1: get supper when they go downtown in the afternoon. They're
Speaker 1: the kind who go to market every morning and take
Speaker 1: the baby along the go kart. And they're not wearing
Speaker 1: crape de shine tango petticoats to do it in either.
Speaker 1: They're wearing skirts with the draw string in the back
Speaker 1: and the label and the band guaranteed to last one year.
Speaker 1: Those are the people I'd like to reach and hold. Hmmm,
Speaker 1: said Hopper from his corner cryptically. Bartholomewburg looked at Emma
Speaker 1: McChesney admiringly. Sounds reasonable and logical, he said. Sam hup
Speaker 1: sat up with a jerk. It does sound reasonable, he said, briskly,
Speaker 1: But it isn't. Pardon me, won't you, missus McChesney. But
Speaker 1: you must realize that this is at extravagant age. The
Speaker 1: very workmen's wives have caught the spind fever. The time
Speaker 1: has passed when you can attract people to your goods
Speaker 1: with the promise of durability and wear. They don't expect
Speaker 1: goods to wear. They'd resent it if they did. They
Speaker 1: get tired of an article before it's worn out. They're
Speaker 1: looking for novelties. They'd rather get two months wear out
Speaker 1: of a skirt that slashed a new way than a
Speaker 1: year's wear out of one that looks like the start
Speaker 1: that mother used to make. Missus McChesney, her cheeks very pink,
Speaker 1: her eyes very bright, subsided into silence. In silence, she
Speaker 1: sat throughout the rest of the conference, in silence. She
Speaker 1: descended in the elevator with t a Buck, and in
Speaker 1: silence she stepped into his waiting car. T a Buck
Speaker 1: eyed her worriedly. Well, he said, then, as Missus McChesney
Speaker 1: shrugged none, Tomilla's shoulders, tell me, how do you feel
Speaker 1: about it? Emma McChesney turned to face him, breathing rather quickly.
Speaker 1: The last time I felt as I do just now
Speaker 1: was when Jock was a baby. He took sick and
Speaker 1: the doctors were puzzled. They thought it might be something
Speaker 1: wrong with his spine. They had a consultation, five of them,
Speaker 1: with the poor little chap on the bed naked. They
Speaker 1: wouldn't let me go in, so I listened in the hallway,
Speaker 1: pressed against the door with my face to the crack.
Speaker 1: They prodded him and poked him and worked his little
Speaker 1: legs and arms, and every time he cried, I prayed
Speaker 1: and wept and clawed the door with my fingers and
Speaker 1: called them beasts and torturers and begged them to let
Speaker 1: me in. Though I wasn't conscious that I was doing
Speaker 1: those things at the time. I didn't know what they
Speaker 1: were doing to him, though they said it was all
Speaker 1: for his good and they were only trying to help him.
Speaker 1: But I only knew that I wanted to rush in
Speaker 1: and grab him up in my arms and run away
Speaker 1: with him, Run and run and run. She stopped, lips trembling,
Speaker 1: eyes suspiciously bright, And that that's the way I felt
Speaker 1: in there this afternoon. Ta Buck reached up and patted
Speaker 1: her shoulder. Don't, old girl, It's going to work out splendidly,
Speaker 1: I'm sure. After all, those chaps do know best. They
Speaker 1: may know best, but they don't know featherlooms retarded Emma
Speaker 1: mc chesney. True, but perhaps what Jock said when he
Speaker 1: walked with us to the elevator was pretty nearly right.
Speaker 1: You know. He said, we were criticizing their copy of
Speaker 1: the way a plumber would criticize the Parthenon, so busy
Speaker 1: finding fault with the lack of drains that we failed
Speaker 1: to see the beauty of the architecture, Ta said Emma
Speaker 1: mc chesney solemnly t A, we're getting old, old you.
Speaker 1: I ha. You may ha all you like, But do
Speaker 1: you know what they thought of us in there. They
Speaker 1: thought we were a couple of fogies, and they humored us.
Speaker 1: That's all they did. I'll tell you, t A. When
Speaker 1: the time comes from me to give Jock up to
Speaker 1: little pink faced girl, I'll do it and smile if
Speaker 1: it kills me. But to hand my feather looms over
Speaker 1: to a lot of cold blooded experts who well, she paused,
Speaker 1: biting her lip. We'll see, Emma, We'll see they did see.
Speaker 1: The featherloom Petticoat campaign was launched with a great splash.
Speaker 1: It sailed serenely into the sea of national business. Then
Speaker 1: suddenly something seemed to go wrong with its engines. It
Speaker 1: began to wobble and showed a decided list to port. Jock,
Speaker 1: who at the beginning was so puffed with pride that
Speaker 1: his gold fountain pen threatened to burst. The confines of
Speaker 1: his very modestly tight vest, lost two degrees of pompishness
Speaker 1: a day, and his attitude toward his unreproachful mother was
Speaker 1: almost humble a dozen times a week. Ta would stroll
Speaker 1: casually into Missus mcchesney's office. I think it's going to
Speaker 1: take hold, he would ask. Our men say that the
Speaker 1: dealers have laid in, but the public doesn't seem to
Speaker 1: be tearing itself limb from limb to get our stuff.
Speaker 1: Emma mc chesney would smile and shrug none committal shoulders
Speaker 1: when it became very painfully apparent that it wasn't taking hold.
Speaker 1: Ta Buck, after asking the same question, now worn and
Speaker 1: frayed with asking, broke out crossly. Well, really, I don't
Speaker 1: mind the shrug, but I do wish you wouldn't smile.
Speaker 1: After all, you know, this campaign is costing us money,
Speaker 1: real money, and large chunks of it. It's very evident
Speaker 1: that we shouldn't have tried to make a national campaign
Speaker 1: of this thing. Whereupon Missus mcchesney's smile grew into a laugh.
Speaker 1: Forgive me, Ta, I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing because, well,
Speaker 1: I can't tell you why. It's a woman's reason, and
Speaker 1: you wouldn't think it a reason at all. Well, that matter,
Speaker 1: I suppose it isn't. But anyway, I've got something to
Speaker 1: tell you. The fault of this campaign has been the copy.
Speaker 1: It was perfectly good advertising, but it left the public
Speaker 1: cold when they read those ads. They might have been
Speaker 1: impressed with the charm of the garment, but it didn't
Speaker 1: fill their breasts with any while longing to possess one.
Speaker 1: It didn't make the women feel unhappy until they had
Speaker 1: one of those skirts hanging on the third hook in
Speaker 1: their closet. The only kind of advertising that is advertising,
Speaker 1: it's the kind that makes the reader say, I'll have
Speaker 1: one of those ta buck through out helpless hands. What
Speaker 1: are we going to do about it? Do I've already
Speaker 1: done it done? What written? The kind of copy that
Speaker 1: I think feather Looms ought to have. I just took
Speaker 1: my knowledge of feather looms, plus what I knew about
Speaker 1: human nature, sprinkled in a handful of good humor and sincerity,
Speaker 1: and they are going to feed it to the public.
Speaker 1: It's the same recipe that I used in selling feather
Speaker 1: looms on the road. It used to go by word
Speaker 1: of mouth. I don't see why it shouldn't go on paper.
Speaker 1: It isn't classic averavertising, It isn't scientific, It isn't even
Speaker 1: what they call psychological. I suppose, but it's human, and
Speaker 1: it's going to reach that great, big, solid safe spot
Speaker 1: cash mass known as the middle class. Of course, my
Speaker 1: copy may be wrong. It may not go after all.
Speaker 1: But but it did go. It didn't go with a
Speaker 1: rush or a bang. It went slowly, surely, hand over hand,
Speaker 1: but it went, and it kept on going, and watching
Speaker 1: it climb and take hold. There came back to Emma
Speaker 1: mcchesney's eye, the old sparkle to her step, the old
Speaker 1: buoyancy to her voice, the old delightful ring. And now
Speaker 1: when t A Buck strolled into her office of a
Speaker 1: morning with his it's taking hole, missus Mack, she would
Speaker 1: dimple like a girl as she laughed back at him
Speaker 1: with a grip that won't let go. It looks very
Speaker 1: much as though we were going to be millionaires in
Speaker 1: our old age. You and I went on, buck, Emma
Speaker 1: McChesney opened her eyes wide, Old old you, I ha.
Speaker 1: End of chapter three, Chapter four, The Man within Him.
Speaker 1: They used to do it much more picturesquely. They rode
Speaker 1: in coats of scarlet in the crisp clear morning, to
Speaker 1: the winding of horns and the baying of hounds, to
Speaker 1: the thud thud of hoofs and the crackle of underbrush
Speaker 1: Across fresh plowed fields. They went, crashing through forest paths,
Speaker 1: leaping ditches, taking fences, scrambling up the inclines, pelting down
Speaker 1: the hillside helter skelter, until panting, wide eyed, eager, blood hungry.
Speaker 1: The hunt closed in at the death. The scarlet coat
Speaker 1: has sobered down to the somber gray in the snuffy
Speaker 1: brown of that unromantic garment known as the business suit.
Speaker 1: The winding horn is become a goblet, and its notes
Speaker 1: are the tinkle of ice against glass. The baying of
Speaker 1: hounds has harshened to the squawk of the motor siren.
Speaker 1: The fresh plowed field is a blueprint. The forest maye
Speaker 1: a roll of plans and specifications. Each fence is a
Speaker 1: business barrier. Each ditch is of a competitor's making, dug
Speaker 1: craftily so that the clumsy footed may come a cropper.
Speaker 1: All the romance is out of it, all the color,
Speaker 1: all the joy. But two things remain the same. The
Speaker 1: look in the face of the hunter as he closed
Speaker 1: in on the fox is the look in the face
Speaker 1: of him who sees the coveted contract lying ready for
Speaker 1: the finishing stroke of his pen, and his words are
Speaker 1: those of the hunter of long ago. As eyes a gleam,
Speaker 1: teeth bared, muscles still taut with the tenseness of the chase.
Speaker 1: He waves the paper high in the air and cries,
Speaker 1: I've made a killing. For two years, Jock McChesney had
Speaker 1: watched the field as it swept by in its patient,
Speaker 1: davious rule game of hunt the contract, but he had
Speaker 1: never been in at the death. Those two years had
Speaker 1: taught him how to ride, to take a fence, to
Speaker 1: leap a ditch. He had had his awkward bumps and
Speaker 1: his clumsy falls. He had lost his way more than once,
Speaker 1: but he had always groped his way back again, stumblingly
Speaker 1: through the dusk. Jock mc chesney was the youngest man
Speaker 1: on the Berg Shriner Advertising Company's big staff of surprisingly
Speaker 1: young men, so young that the casual glance did not
Speaker 1: reveal to you the marks that the strain of those
Speaker 1: two years had left on his boy's face. But the
Speaker 1: marks were there, nature etches with the most delicate of points.
Speaker 1: She knows the cunning secret of light and shadow. You
Speaker 1: scarcely realize that she has been at work a faint
Speaker 1: line about the mouth, a fairy tracing at the corners
Speaker 1: of the eyes, a mere, vague touch just at the
Speaker 1: the nostrils, and the thing is done. Even Emma mc
Speaker 1: chesney's eyes, those mother eyes which make the lynx seem
Speaker 1: a mole, had failed to note the subtle changes. Then suddenly,
Speaker 1: one night, the lines leaped out at her. They were
Speaker 1: seated at opposite sides of the book littered library table
Speaker 1: in the living room of the cheerful Uptown apartment, which
Speaker 1: was the realization of the nightly dream which missus Emma
Speaker 1: mc chesney had had in her ten years on the
Speaker 1: road for the t a Buck featherloom petticoat company. Jock
Speaker 1: mcchesney's side of the big table was completely covered with
Speaker 1: the mass of copy paper, rough sketches, photographs and drawings
Speaker 1: which make up an advertising layout. He was bent over
Speaker 1: the work, absorbed intent, his forearms resting on the table.
Speaker 1: Iimma mc chesney glanced up from her magazine just as
Speaker 1: Jock bent forward to reach a scrap of paper that
Speaker 1: had fluttered away. The lamp light fell full on his face,
Speaker 1: and Emma mc chesney saw the hand that held the
Speaker 1: magazine fell to her lap. Her lips were parted slightly.
Speaker 1: She sat very quietly, her eyes never leaving the face
Speaker 1: that frowned so intently over the littered table. The room
Speaker 1: had been very quiet before, Jock busy with his work,
Speaker 1: his mother interested in her magazine. But this silence was different.
Speaker 1: There was something electric in it. It was a silence
Speaker 1: that beats on the brain like a noise. Jock mc chesney,
Speaker 1: bent over his work, heard it, felt it, and oppressed
Speaker 1: by it, looked up. Suddenly he met those two eyes
Speaker 1: opposite spooks or is it my god like beauty which
Speaker 1: told you thus? Or is my face dirty? Emma mc
Speaker 1: chesney did not smile. She laid her magazine on the table,
Speaker 1: face down, and leaned forward, her staring eyes still fixed
Speaker 1: on her son's face. And look here, young un, are
Speaker 1: you working too hard me? Now? This uf? You mean? No?
Speaker 1: I mean, in the last year? Are they piling it
Speaker 1: up on you? Jock laughed, a laugh that was nothing
Speaker 1: less than a failure. So little of real mirth did
Speaker 1: it contain? Piling it up? Lord? No, I wish they would.
Speaker 1: That's the trouble. They don't give me a chance, a chance.
Speaker 1: Why that's not true, son, you've said yourself that there
Speaker 1: are men who have been in the office three times
Speaker 1: as long as you have, who never have had the
Speaker 1: opportunities they've given you. It was as though she had
Speaker 1: touched a current that thrilled him to action. He pushed
Speaker 1: back his chair and stood up, one hand thrust into
Speaker 1: his pocket, the other passing quickly over his head from
Speaker 1: brow to nate with a quick, nervous gesture that was
Speaker 1: new to him. And why he flung out, Why not
Speaker 1: because they like the way I part my hair. They
Speaker 1: don't do business that way up there. It's because I've
Speaker 1: made good and those other dubs haven't. That's why they've
Speaker 1: let me sit in at the game, but they won't
Speaker 1: let me take any tricks. I've been an apprentice hand
Speaker 1: for two years now. I'm tired of it. I want
Speaker 1: to be in on a killing. I want to taste blood.
Speaker 1: I want a chance at some money, real money. Emma
Speaker 1: McChesney sat back in her chair and surveyed the angry
Speaker 1: figure before her with quiet, steady eyes. I might have
Speaker 1: known that only one thing could bring those lines into
Speaker 1: your face, son, she paused a moment. So you want
Speaker 1: money as badly as all that, do you Jock's hand
Speaker 1: came down with a whack on the papers before him.
Speaker 1: Want it, you bet I want it? Do I know her?
Speaker 1: Asked Emma McChesney quietly. Jock stopped, sharp in his excited
Speaker 1: pacing up and down the room. Do you know why
Speaker 1: I didn't say there? What makes you think that when
Speaker 1: a youngster like you, whose greatest worry has been whether
Speaker 1: Harvard'll hold of again this year with Baxter out begins
Speaker 1: to howl about not being appreciate sheiated in business, and
Speaker 1: to wear a late fall line of wrinkles where he
Speaker 1: had been smoothed before. I feel justified in saying do
Speaker 1: I know her? Well? It isn't any one at least,
Speaker 1: it isn't what you mean you think it is when
Speaker 1: you say you careful there, you'll trip never you mind
Speaker 1: what I mean? I think it is when I say
Speaker 1: count ten and then just tell me what you think
Speaker 1: you mean. Jock passed his hand over his head again
Speaker 1: with that nervous little gesture. Then he sat down a
Speaker 1: little wearily. He stared moodily down at the pile of
Speaker 1: papers before him. His mother faced him quietly across the table.
Speaker 1: Grace Galtz getting twice as much as I am. Jock
Speaker 1: broke out with savage suddenness the first year, I didn't mind.
Speaker 1: A fellow gets accustomed these days to see women breaking
Speaker 1: into all the professions and getting away with men's size salaries.
Speaker 1: But her paycheck doubles mine more than doubles it. It's
Speaker 1: been my experience, observed Emma mc chesney, that when a
Speaker 1: firm condescends to pay a woman twice as much as
Speaker 1: a man, that means she's worth six times as much.
Speaker 1: A painful red crept into Jock's face. Maybe two years ago,
Speaker 1: that would have sounded reasonable to me. Two years ago,
Speaker 1: when I walked down Broadway at night, a fifty foot
Speaker 1: electric sign at forty second was just an electric sign
Speaker 1: to me, just part of the town's decoration, like the
Speaker 1: Chorus girls and the midnight theater crowds now. Well, now
Speaker 1: every blink of every red and yellow globe is crammed
Speaker 1: full of meaning. I know the power that advertising has,
Speaker 1: how it influences our manners and our morals, and our
Speaker 1: minds and our health. It regulates the food we eat
Speaker 1: and the clothes we wear, and the books we read,
Speaker 1: and the entertainment we seek. It's colossal that's what it is.
Speaker 1: It's keep on like that for another two years, Sonny,
Speaker 1: and no business banquet will be complete without you. The
Speaker 1: next thing you know, you'll be addressing the YMCA advertising
Speaker 1: classes on the young Man in business. Jock laughed, a
Speaker 1: rueful little laugh. I didn't mean to make a speech.
Speaker 1: I was just trying to say that I've served my apprenticeship.
Speaker 1: It hurts a fellow's pride. You can't hold your head
Speaker 1: up before a girl when you know her salaries twice yours,
Speaker 1: and you know that she knows it. Why look at
Speaker 1: Missus Hoffman, who's with the Dout Agency. Of course, she's
Speaker 1: a wonder. Even if her face does look like the
Speaker 1: fifty eighth variety, she can write copy that lifts a
Speaker 1: campaign right out of the humdrum class and makes it luminous.
Speaker 1: Her husband works in a bank somewhere. He earns about
Speaker 1: as much as Missus Hoffman, pays the least of her
Speaker 1: department's subordinates. And he's so subdued that he side steps
Speaker 1: when he walks, and they call him the human jellyfish.
Speaker 1: Emma mc chesney was recording her son with a little
Speaker 1: puzzled frown. Suddenly she reached and tapped the topmost of
Speaker 1: the scribbled sheets strewn the length of Jock's side of
Speaker 1: the table. What's all this, Jock tipped back his chair
Speaker 1: and surveyed the clutter before him. That said, he is
Speaker 1: what is known on the stage as the papers, and
Speaker 1: it's the real plot of this piece. Hmm, I thought, so,
Speaker 1: just favor me with a scenario, will you? Half grinning?
Speaker 1: Half serious? Jock stuck his thumbs and the armholes of
Speaker 1: his waistcoat and began scene offices of the Berg Shriner
Speaker 1: Advertising Company. Time the present characters, Jock McChesney, handsome, daring, brilliant.
Speaker 1: Suppose you are skip the characters, however fascinating, and get
Speaker 1: to the action. Jock McChesney brought the chair down on
Speaker 1: all fours with a thud and stood up. He was
Speaker 1: as serious as he had been in the midst of
Speaker 1: his tirade of five minutes before. All right, here it is,
Speaker 1: and don't blame me if it sounds like cheap melodrama.
Speaker 1: This stuff, and he waved a hand toward the paper
Speaker 1: laden table. He's an advertising campaign plan for the Griebler
Speaker 1: Gum Company of Saint Louis, Oh don't look impressed. The
Speaker 1: office hasn't handed me any such commission. I just got
Speaker 1: the idea like a flash, and I've been working it
Speaker 1: out for the last two weeks. It worked itself out
Speaker 1: almost the way a really scorching idea does. Sometimes. This
Speaker 1: Griebler has been advertising for years, you know, the Greebler
Speaker 1: gum but it hasn't been the right start of advertising.
Speaker 1: Old Greebler, the original gum man, had foggy notions about advertising,
Speaker 1: and as long as he lived they had to keep
Speaker 1: it down. He died a few months ago. You must
Speaker 1: have read of it, left a regular mint. Ben Griebler,
Speaker 1: the oldest son, started right in to clean out the cobwebs.
Speaker 1: Of course, the advertising end of it has come in
Speaker 1: for its share of the soap and water. He wants
Speaker 1: to make a clean sweep of it. Every advertising firm
Speaker 1: in the country has been angling for the contract. It's
Speaker 1: going to be a real one two thirds of the
Speaker 1: crowd of submitted plans. And that's just where my kick
Speaker 1: comes in. The berg Shiner Company makes it a rule
Speaker 1: never to submit advance plans. Excuse me if I seem
Speaker 1: a trifle rude. Interrupted missus MC Chesney. But I'd like
Speaker 1: to know where you think you've been wronged in this
Speaker 1: Right here, replied Jock, and he slapped his pocket. And here,
Speaker 1: he pointed to his head. Two spots so vital that
Speaker 1: they make Old Akelles's heels seem armor plated. Ben Griebler
Speaker 1: is one of the show me kind. He wants value
Speaker 1: received for money expended. And while everybody knows that he
Speaker 1: has a loving eye on the berg Shriner crowd, he
Speaker 1: won't sign the thing until he knows what he's getting.
Speaker 1: A firm's record, standing staff, equipment mean nothing to him.
Speaker 1: But Jock, I still don't see. Jock gathered up a
Speaker 1: sheaf of loose paper and brandish them in the air.
Speaker 1: This is where I come in. I've got a plan
Speaker 1: here that will fetch this Griebler person. Oh I'm not dreaming.
Speaker 1: I outlined it for sam Hup and he was crazy
Speaker 1: about it. Sam Hup had some sort of plan outlined himself,
Speaker 1: but he said this made his sound as dry as
Speaker 1: cigars in Denver. And you know yourself that sam Hup's
Speaker 1: copy is so brilliant that he could sell brewery advertising
Speaker 1: to her Temperance magazine. Emma mc chesney stood up. She
Speaker 1: looked a little impatient and a trifle puzzled. But why
Speaker 1: all this talk, I don't get you. Take your plan
Speaker 1: to mister Berg. If it's what you think it is,
Speaker 1: he'll see it quicker than any other human being, and
Speaker 1: he'll probably fall on your neck and invest you in
Speaker 1: royal robes and give you a mahogany desk all your own.
Speaker 1: Oh what's the good, retorted Jock, disgustedly. This griebler has
Speaker 1: an appointment at the office tomorrow. He'll be closeted with
Speaker 1: the old man they call in hup. But never a
Speaker 1: plan will they reveal. It's against their code of ethics. Ethics.
Speaker 1: I'm sick of the word. I suppose you say I'm
Speaker 1: lucky to be associated with the firm like that, and
Speaker 1: I suppose i am. But I wish, in the name
Speaker 1: of all the gods of business that they weren't so
Speaker 1: blooming conservative ethics. They're all balled up in him like
Speaker 1: Henry James in his style. Emma mc chesney came over
Speaker 1: from her side of the table and stood very close
Speaker 1: to her son. She laid one hand very lightly on
Speaker 1: his arm and looked up into the sullen, angry, young face.
Speaker 1: I've seen older men than you are, Jock, and better
Speaker 1: men and bigger men wearing that same look, and for
Speaker 1: the same reason. Every ambitious man or woman in business
Speaker 1: where is it at one time or another. Sooner or later, Jock,
Speaker 1: you'll have your chance at the money end of this game.
Speaker 1: If you don't care about the thing you call ethics,
Speaker 1: it'll be sooner. If you do care, it will be later.
Speaker 1: It rests with you, but it's bound to come, because
Speaker 1: you've got the stuff in you, maybe, replied Jock the cynical,
Speaker 1: but his face lost some of its sullenness as he
Speaker 1: looked down at that earnest, vivid countenance upturned to his
Speaker 1: Maybe it sounds all right, mother in the story books,
Speaker 1: but I'm not quite solid on it. These days, it
Speaker 1: isn't so much what you've got in you that counts
Speaker 1: as what you can bring out. I know. The young
Speaker 1: man's slogan used to be work and wait or something
Speaker 1: pretty like that, but these days they've boiled it down
Speaker 1: to one word, produce. The marvel of it is that
Speaker 1: there aren't more of em, observed Emma mc chesney, sadly
Speaker 1: more what more lines here? She touched his forehead, and
Speaker 1: here she touched his eyes lines Jock swung to face
Speaker 1: a mirror. Good I'm so infernally young looking that no
Speaker 1: one takes me seriously. It's darned hard trying to convince
Speaker 1: people you're a captain of finance when you look like
Speaker 1: an errand boy. From the center of the room, Mistress
Speaker 1: mc chesney watched the boy as he surveyed himself in
Speaker 1: the glass, and as she gazed, there came a frightened
Speaker 1: look into her eyes. It was gone in a minute,
Speaker 1: and in its place came a curious little gleam, half amused,
Speaker 1: half pugnacious. Jock mc chesney. If I thought that you
Speaker 1: meant half of what you said to night about honor
Speaker 1: and ethics and all that, i'd spike me, I suppose,
Speaker 1: said the young six footer. No, and all the humor
Speaker 1: had fled I, Jock, I've never said much to you
Speaker 1: about your father, but I think you know that he
Speaker 1: was what he was to the day of his death.
Speaker 1: You were just about eight when I made up my
Speaker 1: mind that life with him was impossible. I said then,
Speaker 1: and you were all I had son that I'd rather
Speaker 1: see you dead than to have you turn out to
Speaker 1: be a son of your father. Don't make me remember
Speaker 1: that wish shock. Two quick steps and his arms were
Speaker 1: about her. His face was all contrition. Why mother, I
Speaker 1: didn't mean you See, this is business and I'm crazy
Speaker 1: to make good and it's such a fight. Don't I
Speaker 1: know it, demanded Emma mc chesney. I guess your mother
Speaker 1: hasn't been sitting home and broadering lunch cloths these past
Speaker 1: fifteen years. She lifted her head from the boy's shoulder.
Speaker 1: And now, son, considering me not as your doting mother,
Speaker 1: but in my business capacity as secretary of the T. A.
Speaker 1: Buck Featherloom Petticoat Company, suppose you reveal to me the
Speaker 1: inner workings of this plan of yours. I'd like to
Speaker 1: know if you really are the advertising wizard that you
Speaker 1: think you are. So it was that, long after Annie's
Speaker 1: dinner dishes had ceased to clatter in the kitchen, long
Speaker 1: after she had put her head in at the door
Speaker 1: to ask eggs or cakes for breakfast, Long after those
Speaker 1: two two busy brains should have rested in sleep, The
Speaker 1: two sat at either side of the light flooded table,
Speaker 1: the face of one glowing as he talked the face
Speaker 1: of the other, sparkling as she listened, And at midnight,
Speaker 1: why you infant wonder, exclaimed Emma McChesney. At nine o'clock
Speaker 1: next morning, when Jock McChesney entered the offices of the
Speaker 1: Berg Shriner Advertising Company, he carried a flat compact bundle
Speaker 1: of papers under his arm, encased in protecting covers of
Speaker 1: pasteboard and further secured by bands of elastic. This he
Speaker 1: carried to his desk, deposited in a drawer, and locked
Speaker 1: the drawer. By eleven o'clock, the things which he had
Speaker 1: predicted the night before had come to pass. A plump
Speaker 1: little man with a fussy manner and western clothes had
Speaker 1: been ushered into Bartholomew Burg's private office. Instinct told him
Speaker 1: that this was griebler. Jock left his desk and strolled
Speaker 1: up to get the switchboard operator's confirmation of his guests.
Speaker 1: Half an hour later, Sam Hup hustled by and disappeared
Speaker 1: into the old man's sanctum. Jock fingered the upper left
Speaker 1: hand drawer of his desk, the maddening blankness of that
Speaker 1: closed door. If only he could find some excuse for
Speaker 1: walking into that room, any old excuse, no matter how wild,
Speaker 1: just to get a chance at it. His telephone rang.
Speaker 1: He picked up the receiver, his eye on the closed door,
Speaker 1: his thoughts inside that room. Mister Bergh wants to see
Speaker 1: you right away, came the voice of the switchboard operator.
Speaker 1: Something seemed to give way inside, something in the region
Speaker 1: of his brain. No, his heart, no, his lungs. Well,
Speaker 1: can you beat that? Said Jock mc chestney aloud, in
Speaker 1: a kind of trance of joy. Can you beat that?
Speaker 1: Then he buttoned the lower button of his coat, shrugged
Speaker 1: his shoulders with an extra wiggle of the collar, the
Speaker 1: modern hero's method of girding up his loins, and walked
Speaker 1: calmly in into Bartholomew Burgh's very private office. In the
Speaker 1: second that he lapsed between the opening and the closing
Speaker 1: of the door, Jock's glance swept the three men. Bartholomew Burgh, quiet, inscrutable,
Speaker 1: seated at his great table desk, Griebler lost in the
Speaker 1: depths of a great leather chair, smoking fussily and twitching
Speaker 1: with a hundred little, restless, irritating gestures. Sam up standing
Speaker 1: at the opposite side of the room, hands in pockets,
Speaker 1: attitude argumentative. This is mister mc chesney, said Bartholomew Burgh.
Speaker 1: Mister Griebler. McChesney Jock came forward, smiling that charming smile
Speaker 1: of his. Mister Griebler, he said, extending his hand, this
Speaker 1: is a great pleasure. Hmm, growled Ben Griebler. I didn't
Speaker 1: know they picked him so young. His voice was a
Speaker 1: piping falsetto that somehow seemed to match his restless little eyes.
Speaker 1: Jock thrust his hands hurriedly into his pockets. He felt
Speaker 1: his face getting scarlet. They're using them young this year,
Speaker 1: said Bartholomew Berg. His voice sounded bigger and smoother and
Speaker 1: pleasanter than ever in contrast with that other's shrill tone.
Speaker 1: I prefer him young myself. You'll never catch McChesney using
Speaker 1: in the last analysis to drive home an argument. He
Speaker 1: has a new idea about every nineteen minutes, and every
Speaker 1: other one's a good one, and every nineteenth or souls
Speaker 1: an inspiration. The old man laughed, one of his low
Speaker 1: chuckling laughs. Hmm, that's so piped up, Ben Griebler. Hop
Speaker 1: in my neck of the woods, we aren't so long
Speaker 1: on inspiration. We're just working men, and we wear working clothes.
Speaker 1: Oh now, protested Berg, his eyes twinkling. Mcjestney's necktie and
Speaker 1: socks and handkerchief may form one lovely, blissful color scheme,
Speaker 1: but that doesn't signify that his advertising schemes are not
Speaker 1: just as carefully and artistically blended. Ben Griebler looked shrewdly
Speaker 1: up at your through his narrowed lids. Maybe I'll talk
Speaker 1: to you in a minute, young man, that is, he
Speaker 1: turned quickly upon Berg. If that isn't against your crazy
Speaker 1: principles too, why not at all, portholemew Berg assured him,
Speaker 1: not at all. You to me an injustice. Griebler moved
Speaker 1: up closer to the broad table. The two fell into
Speaker 1: a low voiced talk. Jock looked rather helplessly around at
Speaker 1: Sam Hupp. That alert gentleman was signaling him frantically with
Speaker 1: head and wagging finger. Jock crossed the big room to
Speaker 1: Hup's side. The two moved off to a window at
Speaker 1: the far end. Give heed to your unkie, said Sam Hup,
Speaker 1: talking very rapidly, very softly, and out of one corner
Speaker 1: of his mouth. This Griebler is looking for an advertising manager.
Speaker 1: He's as pig headed as a a well a pig,
Speaker 1: I suppose. But it's a carking chance, youngster, and the
Speaker 1: old man's just recommended you strong now me exploded, Jock
Speaker 1: shut up his top. Two or three years with that
Speaker 1: firm would be the making of you. If you make good,
Speaker 1: of course, and you could. They want to move their
Speaker 1: factory here from Saint Louis within the next few years. Now,
Speaker 1: listen when he talks to you. You play up the
Speaker 1: keen alert stuff with a dash of sophistication. See if
Speaker 1: you can keep your mouth shut and throw a kind
Speaker 1: of a canny I get you look into your eyes
Speaker 1: all the better. He's gabby enough for two Try a
Speaker 1: line of talk that is filled with the fire and
Speaker 1: enthusiasm of youth combined with the good judgment and experience
Speaker 1: of middle age. And you've say, look here, stammered Jock.
Speaker 1: Even if I was Warfield enough to do all that,
Speaker 1: do you honestly think me an advertising manager with a
Speaker 1: salary that griebler, You nervy little shrimp, go in and win.
Speaker 1: He'll pay five thousand if he pays a cent, but
Speaker 1: he wants value for money expended. Now, I've tipped you off.
Speaker 1: You make the killing, oh Mcjestney, called Bartholomew Burgh, glancing around. Yes, sir,
Speaker 1: said Jock, and stood before him in the same moment.
Speaker 1: Mister Griebler is looking for a competent, enthusiastic, hard working
Speaker 1: man as advertising manager. I've spoken to him of you.
Speaker 1: I know what you can do. Mister Griebler might trust
Speaker 1: my judgment in this, but I'll trust my own judgment,
Speaker 1: snapped Ben Griebler. It's good enough for me very well,
Speaker 1: returned Bortholomew Burgh suavely. And if you decide to place
Speaker 1: your advertising future in the hands of the Berg Shriner company,
Speaker 1: now look here, interrupted Ben Griebler again. I'll tie up
Speaker 1: with you people when you shaken something out of your cuffs.
Speaker 1: I'm not the kind that buys a pig in a poke.
Speaker 1: We're going to spend money, wi you money in this
Speaker 1: campaign of yours, but I'm not such a come hotist
Speaker 1: to hand you half a million or so and get
Speaker 1: a promise in return. I want your plans and I
Speaker 1: want him full. A little exclamation broke from Sam Up
Speaker 1: checked it, but not before Berg's curiously penetrating pale blue
Speaker 1: eyes had glanced up at him and away again. I've
Speaker 1: told you, mister Griebler, went on Bortholomew Bergh's patient voice.
Speaker 1: Just why the thing you insist on is impossible? This
Speaker 1: firm does not submit advance copy. Every business commission that
Speaker 1: comes to us is given all the skill and thought
Speaker 1: and enthusiasm and careful planning that this office is capable of.
Speaker 1: You know our record. This is a business of ideas,
Speaker 1: and ideas are too precious, too perishable, to spread in
Speaker 1: the marketplace for all to see. Ben Griebler stood up.
Speaker 1: His cigar wagged furiously between his lips as he talked.
Speaker 1: I know something else that don't stand spreading in the marketplace, Berg,
Speaker 1: and that's money. It's too darn perishable too. He pointed
Speaker 1: a stubby finger at Chuck. Does this fool rule of
Speaker 1: years apply to this young fellow? To Bartholomew burg seemed
Speaker 1: to grow more patient, more self contained, as the other
Speaker 1: man's self control slipped rapidly away. It goes for every
Speaker 1: man and woman in this office, mister Greebler. This young
Speaker 1: chap mc chesney here might spend weeks and months building
Speaker 1: up a comprehensive advertising plan for you. He'd spend those
Speaker 1: weeks studying your business from every possible angle. Perhaps it
Speaker 1: would be a plan that would require a year of
Speaker 1: waiting before the actual advertising began to appear, and then
Speaker 1: you might lose faith in the plan. A waiting game
Speaker 1: is a hard game to play. Some other man's idea
Speaker 1: that promised quicker action might appeal to you, and when
Speaker 1: it appeared, we'd very likely find our own original idea
Speaker 1: incorporated in Say, look here, squeaked Ben Griebler his face, bully, rent,
Speaker 1: Do you mean to imply that I steal your plan?
Speaker 1: Do you mean to sit there and tell me to
Speaker 1: my face, mister Griebler, I mean that that thing happens
Speaker 1: constantly in this business. We're all most powerful to stop it.
Speaker 1: Nothing spreads quicker than a new idea. Compared to it,
Speaker 1: a woman's secret is a seal book. Ben Griebler removed
Speaker 1: the cigar from his lips. He was stuttering with anger.
Speaker 1: With the mingling of despair and boldness. Jock saw the
Speaker 1: advantage of that stuttering moment and seized on it. He
Speaker 1: stepped close to the broad table desk, resting both hands
Speaker 1: on it and leaning forward slightly in his eagerness, mister Berg,
Speaker 1: I have a plan. Mister Hupp can tell you. It
Speaker 1: came to me when I first heard that the Grieblers
Speaker 1: were going to broaden out. It's a real idea. I'm
Speaker 1: sure of that. I've worked it out in detail. Mister
Speaker 1: Hupp himself said it. Why. I've got the actual copy
Speaker 1: and it's new. Absolutely it never trot it out, shouted
Speaker 1: Ben Griebler. I like to see one idea anyway around
Speaker 1: this shop. Mc chesney said Bartholomew Berg, not raising his voice.
Speaker 1: His eyes rested on Jock with the steady, penetrating gaze.
Speaker 1: It was peculiar to him, more foolhardy men than Jock.
Speaker 1: Mucchesney had faltered and paused, abashed under those eyes. McChesney,
Speaker 1: your enthusiasm for your work is causing you to forget
Speaker 1: one thing that must never be forgotten in this office.
Speaker 1: Jock stepped back. His lower lip was caught between his teeth.
Speaker 1: At the same moment, Ben Griebler snatched up his hat
Speaker 1: from the table, clapped it on his head at an
Speaker 1: absurd angle, and, bristling like a fighting cock, confronted the
Speaker 1: three men. I've got a couple of rules myself, he cried,
Speaker 1: And don't you forget it. When you get a little
Speaker 1: spare time, you look up Saint Louis and find out
Speaker 1: what stated then the slogan of that state is my slogan.
Speaker 1: You bet. If you think I'm gonna make you a
Speaker 1: present of the money that it took my old man
Speaker 1: fifty years to pile up, then you don't know that
Speaker 1: Griebler is a German name. Good day, gents, He stalked
Speaker 1: to the door. There he turned dramatically and leveled a
Speaker 1: forefinger at jock Man. Got you roped and tied, But
Speaker 1: I think you're a comer. If you change your mind, kid,
Speaker 1: come and see me. The door slammed behind him. Whew,
Speaker 1: whistled Sam Hupp, passing a handkerchief over his ball spot.
Speaker 1: Bartholomewburg reached out with one great capable hand and swept
Speaker 1: toward him a pile of papers. Oh well, you can't
Speaker 1: blame him. Advertising has been a scream for so long.
Speaker 1: Griebler doesn't know the difference between advertising, publicity and bunk.
Speaker 1: He'll learn, but it'll be an awfully expensive course. Now, hup,
Speaker 1: let's go over this kalamazoo account. That'll be all my chesney,
Speaker 1: Jock turned without a word. He walked quickly through the
Speaker 1: outer office into the great main room. There he stopped
Speaker 1: at the switchboard. Uh, miss Grimes, he said, smiling charmingly,
Speaker 1: where's this, mister Griebler of Saint Louis stopping? Do you know?
Speaker 1: Say we are? Would he stop? Retorted the wise miss Grimes,
Speaker 1: look at him. The walled off. Of course, thanks, said Jock,
Speaker 1: still smiling, and went back to his desk. At five
Speaker 1: Jock left the office. Under his arm, he carried the
Speaker 1: flat pastepoort package secured by elastic mans. At five point fifteen,
Speaker 1: he walked swiftly down the famous corridor of the Great
Speaker 1: red Stone Hotel. The colorful, glittering crowd that surged all
Speaker 1: about him he seemed not to see. He made straight
Speaker 1: for the main desk with its battalion of clerks. Mister
Speaker 1: Greebler in, mister ben Griebler, Saint Louis, the question said
Speaker 1: in motion, the hotel's elaborate system of investigation. At last,
Speaker 1: not in do you know when he will be in?
Speaker 1: That feudle question? Can't say? He left no word? Do
Speaker 1: you want to leave your name, No would he does?
Speaker 1: He stop at this desk when he comes in. He
Speaker 1: was an unusually urbane hotel clerk. Why usually they leave
Speaker 1: their keys and get their mail from the floor clerk,
Speaker 1: But mister Greebler seems to prefer the main desk. I'll wait,
Speaker 1: said Jack, and seated in one of the great thrown
Speaker 1: my chairs. He waited. He sat there, slim and boyish,
Speaker 1: while the laughing, chattering crowd swept all about him. If
Speaker 1: you sit long enough in that fire, you will learn
Speaker 1: all there is to learn about life. An amazing sight.
Speaker 1: It is that crowd Barriboo helped swell it, and Spokane
Speaker 1: and Berlin and Budapest and Pekuing and Paris and Waco,
Speaker 1: Texas so varied. It is so cosmopolitan that if you
Speaker 1: sit there patiently enough and watch sharply enough, you will
Speaker 1: even see it, chanced New Yorker from door to desk.
Speaker 1: Jock's eyes swept the afternoon tea crowd and paradise feathers
Speaker 1: and furs and frock coats swam back and forth. He
Speaker 1: saw it give way to the dinner throng satin shod bejeweled,
Speaker 1: hurrying through its oysters swallowing unbelievable numbers of cloudy amber
Speaker 1: drinks and golden brown drinks and maroon drinks, then gathering
Speaker 1: up its furs and rushing theater woods. He was still
Speaker 1: sitting there when that crowd, its eight o'clock freshness somewhat sullied,
Speaker 1: its sparkle, a trifle dimmed, swept back for more oysters,
Speaker 1: more cloudy ambering golden brown drinks, at half hour intervals,
Speaker 1: then at hourly intervals. The figure in the great chair stirred,
Speaker 1: rose and walked to the desk. Has mister Griebler come
Speaker 1: in the supper throng its laugh a little ribbled, its talk,
Speaker 1: a shade high pitched, drifted toward the street, or was
Speaker 1: wafted up in elevators. The throng thinned to an occasional group.
Speaker 1: Then these became rarer and rarer. The revolving door admitted
Speaker 1: one man, too, perhaps, who lingered not at all In
Speaker 1: the unaccustomed quiet of the great glittering lobby. The figure
Speaker 1: of the watcher took on a pathetic droop. The eyelids
Speaker 1: grew leaden to open them mint an almost superhuman effort.
Speaker 1: The stare of the new night clerks grew more and
Speaker 1: more hostile and suspicious. A grayish pallor had settled down
Speaker 1: on the boy's face, and those lines of the night
Speaker 1: before stood out for all to see in the stillness
Speaker 1: of the place. The big revolving door turned once more
Speaker 1: complainingly for the thousandth time. Jock's eyes lifted heavily. Then
Speaker 1: they flew wide open. The drooping figure straightened electrically. Half
Speaker 1: a dozen quick steps, and Jock stood in the pathway
Speaker 1: of Ben Griebler, who rather ruffled and untidy, had blown
Speaker 1: in on the wings of the morning. He stared for
Speaker 1: a moment. Well, what I've been waiting for you here
Speaker 1: since five o'clock last evening? It will soon be five
Speaker 1: o'clock again. Will you let me show you those plans now?
Speaker 1: Ben Griebler had surveyed Jock with the stony calm of
Speaker 1: the out of town visitor who was prepared to show
Speaker 1: surprise at nothing in New York. There's nothing like getting
Speaker 1: an early start, said Ben Griebler. Come on up to
Speaker 1: my room, key in hand. He made for the elevator.
Speaker 1: For an almost imperceptible moment, Jock paused, then with a
Speaker 1: little rush, he followed the short, thick set figure. I
Speaker 1: knew you had it in you, mc chesney. I said,
Speaker 1: you looked like a comer, didn't I. Jock said nothing.
Speaker 1: He was silent while Griebler unlocked his door, turned on
Speaker 1: the light, fumbled at the windows and shades, picked up
Speaker 1: the telephone receiver. And while you have nothing. Jock had
Speaker 1: cleared the center table and was opening his flat bundle
Speaker 1: of papers. He drew up two chairs. Let's not waste time,
Speaker 1: he said, I've had a twelve hour wait for this.
Speaker 1: He seemed to control the situation obediently. Ben Griebler hung
Speaker 1: up the receiver, came over and took the chair very
Speaker 1: close to Jock. There's nothing artistic about gum, began Jock
Speaker 1: mc chesney, and his manner was that of a man
Speaker 1: who was sure of himself. It's a shirt sleeve product
Speaker 1: and it ought to be handled from a shirt sleeve standpoint.
Speaker 1: Every gum concern in the country has been thousands on
Speaker 1: a better than candy campaign before it realized that gum
Speaker 1: is a candy and drugstore article, and that no man
Speaker 1: is going to push a five cent package of gum
Speaker 1: at the sacrifice of the sale of an eighty cent
Speaker 1: box of candy. But the health note is there if
Speaker 1: only you strike it right now, here's my idea. At
Speaker 1: six o'clock. Ben Griebler, his little shrewd eyes sparkling, his
Speaker 1: voice more squeakily fall settled than ever, surveyed the youngster
Speaker 1: before him, with a certain awe. This this thing will
Speaker 1: actually sell our stuff in Europe. No gum concern has
Speaker 1: ever been able to make the stuff go outside of
Speaker 1: this country. Why inside of three years, every airyan area
Speaker 1: in england'll be chewing it on bank holidays. I don't
Speaker 1: know about Germany. But he pushed back his chair and
Speaker 1: got up. Well, I'm sold on that, and what I
Speaker 1: say goes now. I'll tell you what i'll do, kid,
Speaker 1: I'll take you down to Saint Louis with me at
Speaker 1: a figure that'll make your jock looked up. Or if
Speaker 1: you don't, let the tried a crowd to get wise,
Speaker 1: I'll fix it this way. I'll go over there this
Speaker 1: morning and tell him I've changed my mind. See the
Speaker 1: campaign's there. See then I refuse to consider any of
Speaker 1: their suggestions until I see your plan. And when I
Speaker 1: see it, I fall for it like a ton of
Speaker 1: bricks old Burgle never know he's so darn high Principal
Speaker 1: Jock McChesney stood up. The little, drawn, pinched look which
Speaker 1: had made his face so queerly old was gone. His
Speaker 1: eyes were bright, his face was flushed. There you said it.
Speaker 1: I didn't realize how raw this steal was until you
Speaker 1: put it into words for me. I went to thank you.
Speaker 1: You're right, Bortholomew Berg is so darned high principles that
Speaker 1: two muckers like you and me, roveling around in the
Speaker 1: dirt can't even see the tips of the heights to
Speaker 1: which his ideals have swored. Don't stop me. I know
Speaker 1: I'm talking like a book, but I feel like something
Speaker 1: that has just been kicked out into the sunshine after
Speaker 1: having been in jail. You're tired, said Ben Griebler. It's
Speaker 1: been a strain. Something always snaps after a long tension.
Speaker 1: Jock's flat palm came down among the papers with a crack.
Speaker 1: You bet something snaps. It just snapped inside me. He
Speaker 1: began quietly to gather up the papers in an orderly
Speaker 1: little way. What's that for, inquired Griebler, coming forward. You
Speaker 1: don't mean I mean that I'm going to go home
Speaker 1: and square this thing with a lady you've never met you,
Speaker 1: and she wouldn't get on if you did. You don't
Speaker 1: talk the same language. Then I'm going to have a
Speaker 1: cold bath and a hot breakfast, and then, Griebler, I'm
Speaker 1: going to take this stuff to bartholomew Burg and tell
Speaker 1: him the whole nasty business. He'll see the humor of it,
Speaker 1: but I don't know whether he'll fire me or make
Speaker 1: me vice president of the company. Now, if you want
Speaker 1: to come over and talk to him fair and square,
Speaker 1: why come, candawan he fires you, remarked Greebler as Jock
Speaker 1: reached the floor. There's only one one person I know
Speaker 1: who's game enough to take you up on that, and
Speaker 1: it's going to take more nerve to face her at
Speaker 1: six point thirty than it will to tackle a whole
Speaker 1: battalion of Bartholomew birds at nine. Well, I guess I
Speaker 1: could get into three hours sleep before or before what
Speaker 1: said Jock Bucchesney from the door. Ben Griebler laughed, a
Speaker 1: little shame faced laugh. Before I see you at ten, Sonny.
Speaker 1: End of chapter four, Chapter five, The Self Starter. There
Speaker 1: is nothing in the sound of the shrill little bell
Speaker 1: to warn us of the import of its message. Moore's
Speaker 1: the pity. It may be that bore whose telephone conversation begins, well,
Speaker 1: what do you know today? It may be your lawyer
Speaker 1: to say you've inherited a million. Hence the arrogance of
Speaker 1: the instrument. It knows its voice will never willfully go unanswered,
Speaker 1: so long as the element of chance lies concealed within it. Missus.
Speaker 1: Emma mc chesney heard the call of her telephone across
Speaker 1: the hall. Seated in the office of her business partner, T.
Speaker 1: A Buck, she was fathoms deep in discussion of the T.
Speaker 1: A Buck featherloom petticoat company's new spring line. The buzzer's
Speaker 1: insistent voice brought her to her feet, even while she
Speaker 1: frowned at the interruption. That'll be Bumgartner phoning about those
Speaker 1: silk swatches. Back in a minute, said Emma mc chesney,
Speaker 1: and hurried across the hall, just in time to break
Speaker 1: the second call. The perfunctory hello, yes, was followed by
Speaker 1: a swift change of countenance, a surprised little cry, then,
Speaker 1: in quite another tone, Oh it's you, Jock. I wasn't expecting. No,
Speaker 1: not too busy to talk to you, you young chump,
Speaker 1: go on a moment of silence while missus mc chesney's
Speaker 1: face smiled and glowed like a girl's as she listened
Speaker 1: to the voice of her son. Then suddenly glow and
Speaker 1: smile faded. She grew tense. Her head that had been
Speaker 1: leaning so carelessly on the hand that held the receiver,
Speaker 1: came up with a jerk. Jock mc chesney, She gasped,
Speaker 1: you why you don't mean now. Emma mc chesney was
Speaker 1: not a woman given to jerky conversations interspersed with exclamation points.
Speaker 1: Her poise and balance had become a proverb in the
Speaker 1: business world. Yet her lips were trembling now. Her eyes
Speaker 1: were very round and bright. Her face had flushed, then
Speaker 1: grown white. Her voice shook a little. Yes, of course,
Speaker 1: I am only I'm so surprised. Yes, I'll be home
Speaker 1: early five thirty at the latest. She hung up the
Speaker 1: receiver with a little fumbling gesture. Her hand dropped to
Speaker 1: her lap, then came up to her throat a moment
Speaker 1: dropped again. She sat, staring straight ahead with eyes that
Speaker 1: saw one thousand miles away from his office. Across the hall,
Speaker 1: t a buck strolled in casually, did bum gardener say
Speaker 1: he'd he stopped as missus mc chesney looked up at
Speaker 1: him a quick step forward. What's the matter, emma, jock?
Speaker 1: Jock jock? What's happened to the boy? Then, as she
Speaker 1: still stared at him, her face pitiful, his hand patted
Speaker 1: her shoulder. Dear girl, tell me he bent over her
Speaker 1: all solicitude, don't, said Emma mc chesney faintly, and shook
Speaker 1: off his hand. Your stenographer can see. What will the
Speaker 1: office think? Please? Oh darn the stenographer? What's this bad
Speaker 1: news of jock? Emma mc chesney sat up, She smiled
Speaker 1: a little nervously and passed her handkerchief across her lips.
Speaker 1: I didn't say it was bad, did I? That is
Speaker 1: not exactly bad. I suppose t a buck ran a
Speaker 1: frenzied hand over his head. My dear child, with careful politeness,
Speaker 1: will you please try to be sane. I find you
Speaker 1: sitting at your desk, staring into space, your face white
Speaker 1: as a ghost's your whole appearance that of a person
Speaker 1: who has received a death blow. And then you say,
Speaker 1: not exactly bad. It's this, explained Emma mc chesney in
Speaker 1: a hollow tone. The Berg Shriner Advertising Company has a
Speaker 1: pointed jock manager of their new Western branch. They're opening
Speaker 1: offices in Chicago in March. Her lower lip quivered. She
Speaker 1: caught it sharply between her teeth. For one surprised moment.
Speaker 1: Ta Buck stared in silence. Then a roar broke from him.
Speaker 1: Exactly bad, he boomed between laughs, not exactly but not
Speaker 1: exactly A. Then he was off again. Missus McChesney surveyed
Speaker 1: him in hurt and dignified silence. Then well, really, t
Speaker 1: a don't mind me, which you find so exquisitely funny.
Speaker 1: That's the funniest part of it, that you, of all people,
Speaker 1: shouldn't see the joke. Not exactly bad. He wiped his eyes.
Speaker 1: Why do you mean to tell me that, because your
Speaker 1: young cub of a son, by a heaven sid stroke
Speaker 1: of good fortune, has landed a job that men twice
Speaker 1: his age would give their eye teeth to get. I
Speaker 1: find you sitting at the telephone looking as if he
Speaker 1: had run off with any the cook, or had had
Speaker 1: a leg cut off. I suppose it is funny, only
Speaker 1: the joke's on me. That's why I can't see it.
Speaker 1: It means that I'm losing him. That's the first selfish
Speaker 1: word I've ever heard you utter. Oh, don't think I'm
Speaker 1: not happy at his success. Happy? Haven't I hoped for
Speaker 1: it and work for it and pray for it. Haven't
Speaker 1: I saved for it and skipped for it. How do
Speaker 1: you think I could have stood those years on the
Speaker 1: road if I hadn't kept up courage with the thought
Speaker 1: that it was all for him? Don't I know how
Speaker 1: narrowly Jock escaped being the wrong kind. I'm his mother,
Speaker 1: but I'm not quite blind. I know he had the
Speaker 1: making of a first class cad. I've seen him start
Speaker 1: off in the wrong direction a hundred times. If he
Speaker 1: has turned out a success, it's because you steered him right.
Speaker 1: I've watched you make him over, and now, when his
Speaker 1: big chance has come you. I don't expect you to understand,
Speaker 1: interrupted Emma mc chesney a little wearily. I know it
Speaker 1: sounds crazy and unreasonable. There's only one sort of human
Speaker 1: being who could understand what I mean. That's a woman
Speaker 1: with a son. She laughed, a little shame facedly. I'm
Speaker 1: talking like the chorus of a minor whale sob song.
Speaker 1: But it's the truth. If you feel like that, Emma,
Speaker 1: tell him to stay. The boy wouldn't go if he
Speaker 1: thought it would make you unhappy. Not go, cried Emma
Speaker 1: mc chesney, sharply. I'd like to see him dare to
Speaker 1: refuse it. Well, then what in began? Buck bewildered. Don't
Speaker 1: try to understand it, Ta, it's no use. Don't try
Speaker 1: to poke your finger into the whirligig they call women's sphere.
Speaker 1: Its mechanism is too complicated. It's the same quirk that
Speaker 1: makes women pray for daughters and men for sons. It's
Speaker 1: the same kink that makes women read the marriage and
Speaker 1: death notices first in the newspaper. It's the same queer
Speaker 1: strain that causes a mother to lavish the most love
Speaker 1: on the weakest, wilfulest child. Perhaps I wouldn't have loved
Speaker 1: Jock so much if there hadn't been that streak of
Speaker 1: yellow in him, and if I hadn't had to work
Speaker 1: so hard to dilute it until now it's only a
Speaker 1: faint cream color. There ought to be a special prayer
Speaker 1: for women who were bringing up their sons alone. Buck
Speaker 1: stirred a little uneasily. I've never heard you talk like
Speaker 1: this before, you probably never will again. She swung round
Speaker 1: to her desk. Ta Buck, strolling toward the door, still
Speaker 1: wore the puzzled look. I don't know what makes you
Speaker 1: take this so seriously. Of course the boy will be
Speaker 1: a long way off, but then you've been separated from
Speaker 1: him before. What's the difference now, Ta, said Emma mc
Speaker 1: chesney solemnly. Jock will be drawing a man's size salary. Now.
Speaker 1: Something tells me I'll be a grandmother in another two years.
Speaker 1: Girls are letting men like Jock run around loose. He'll
Speaker 1: be gobbled up. Just you wait, Oh, I don't know,
Speaker 1: drawled Buck mischievously. You just said he's a headstrong young cub.
Speaker 1: He strikes me as a kind who'd raised the dickens
Speaker 1: if his three minute egg happened to be five seconds
Speaker 1: over time. Emma McChesney swung round in her chair. Look here, Ta,
Speaker 1: As business partners, we've quarreled about everything from silk samples
Speaker 1: to traveling men and his friend. We've wrangled on every subject,
Speaker 1: from webs to war. I've allowed you to criticize my
Speaker 1: soule theories and my new spring hat, but understand that
Speaker 1: I'm the only living person who has the right to
Speaker 1: vilify my son, Jock McChesney. The telephone buzzed a punctuation
Speaker 1: to this period. Bumgardner inquired Buck humbly. She listened a moment,
Speaker 1: then over her shoulder Bumgardner grimly, her hand covered the mousepiece.
Speaker 1: And if he thinks he can work off a lot
Speaker 1: of last year's silk swatches on Hello, Yes, missus McChesney talking.
Speaker 1: Look here, mister Baumgardner, and for the time being, Emma McChesney,
Speaker 1: mother was relegated to the background, while Emma McChesney, secretary
Speaker 1: of the T. A. Buck Featherloom Petticot Company, held the stage.
Speaker 1: Having said that she would be home at five point thirty.
Speaker 1: Missus McChesney was home at five thirty, Being that kind
Speaker 1: of a person, Jock came in at six breathless, bright eyed,
Speaker 1: eager and late. Being that kind of a person. He
Speaker 1: found his mother on the floor before the chiffonaire in
Speaker 1: his bedroom, surrounded by piles of pajamas, socks, shirts and colors.
Speaker 1: He swooped down upon her from the doorway. What do
Speaker 1: you think of you, blue eyed boy? Poor a Imma
Speaker 1: McChesney looked up absently, Jock, These medium weights of yours
Speaker 1: didn't wear it all, and you paid five dollars for them?
Speaker 1: Medium weights? What in't you've done? Off? Silk socks to
Speaker 1: last you the rest of your natural life? Handkerchiefs too,
Speaker 1: But you'll need pajamas. Jock stooped, gathered up an armful
Speaker 1: of miscellaneous undergarments and tossed them into an open drawer.
Speaker 1: Then he shut the drawer with a bang, reached over,
Speaker 1: grasped his mother firmly under the arms, and brought her
Speaker 1: to her feet with a swing. We will now consider
Speaker 1: the question of summer underwear ended? Would it bore you
Speaker 1: too much to touched lightly on the subject of your
Speaker 1: son's future. Imma McChesney, tall, straight, handsome, looked up at
Speaker 1: her son, taller, straighter, handsomer. Then she took him by
Speaker 1: the coat lapels and hugged him. You were so bursting
Speaker 1: with your own glory that I couldn't resist teasing you. Besides,
Speaker 1: I had to do something to keep my mind off
Speaker 1: off Why Blondie, dear, you're not no, I'm not gulped.
Speaker 1: Emma McChesney, don't flatter yourself, young and tell me just
Speaker 1: how it happened from the beginning. She perched at the
Speaker 1: side of the bed, jock hands in pockets. Harry, a
Speaker 1: little rumpled, paced excitedly up and down before her as
Speaker 1: he talked. There wasn't any beginning, That's the stunning part
Speaker 1: of it. I just landed right into the middle of
Speaker 1: it with both feet. I knew they had been planning
Speaker 1: to start a big Western branch, but we all thought
Speaker 1: they'd picked some big man for it. There are plenty
Speaker 1: of medium class doves to be had, the kind that
Speaker 1: answer is the ad man as you wanted, young men
Speaker 1: preferably married, able to furnish a one reference ver as
Speaker 1: thick as advertising men in Detroit on Monday morning. But
Speaker 1: we knew that this Western branch was going to be
Speaker 1: given an equal chance with the New York office. Those
Speaker 1: big Western advertisers like to give their money to Western
Speaker 1: firms if they can, so we figure that they pick
Speaker 1: a real top notcher, even Hopper or Houp maybe, and
Speaker 1: start out with a bang. So when the old man
Speaker 1: called me into his office this morning, I was as
Speaker 1: unconscious as a babe. Well you know Berg, He's as
Speaker 1: unexpected as a summer shower. And twice as full of
Speaker 1: electricity Morning mc chesney. He says, that is a New
Speaker 1: York necktie you're wearing strictly, says I ever try in
Speaker 1: Chicago ties not from choice. That time my suitcase went astray.
Speaker 1: M Yes, he drummed his fingers on the tabletop a
Speaker 1: couple of times. Then, Jesney, what have you learned about
Speaker 1: advertising in the last two and a half years. I
Speaker 1: was wise enough as to Betholomew Berg to know that
Speaker 1: he didn't mean any cut and dried knowledge. He didn't
Speaker 1: mean rules of the game. He meant tricks. Well, I said,
Speaker 1: I've learned to watch a man's eyes when I'm talking
Speaker 1: business to him. If the pupils of his eyes dilate,
Speaker 1: he's listening to you and thinking about what you're saying.
Speaker 1: When they contract, it means that he's only faking interest.
Speaker 1: Even though he's looking straight at you and wearing a
Speaker 1: rapt expression, his thoughts are miles away. That's so, said Berg,
Speaker 1: and sorto grinned. What else I've learned? That one negative
Speaker 1: argument is worth six positive ones, That it never pays
Speaker 1: to knock your competitor, that it's wise to fight shy
Speaker 1: of that joker known as editorial cooperation. That's so, said Burg.
Speaker 1: Anything else, I made up my mind. I could play
Speaker 1: the game as long as he could. I've learned not
Speaker 1: to lose my temper when I'm in the middle of
Speaker 1: a white hot, impassioned business appeal and the office boy
Speaker 1: bounces in to say to the boss missus Jones is waiting.
Speaker 1: She says, you were going to help her pick out
Speaker 1: wallpaper this morning, and Jones says, tell her I'll be
Speaker 1: there in five minutes. Sure you've learned that, said Berg. Sure,
Speaker 1: says I. And I've learned to let the other fellow
Speaker 1: take your argument's his own. He likes it. I've learned
Speaker 1: that the surest kind of copy is the slow and
Speaker 1: citious kind, like the Featherloom Petticoat Company's campaign. That was
Speaker 1: an ideal campaign because it didn't urge and insist that
Speaker 1: the public buy featherlooms, just ease the idea to them.
Speaker 1: It started by sketching a history of the petticoat, beginning
Speaker 1: with Eve's fig leaf, and working up before they knew it.
Speaker 1: They were interested, not so that campaign was your mother's eye,
Speaker 1: Dear mic Chesney. You know, mother, he thinks you're a one,
Speaker 1: So I am agreed, Emma McChesney, calmly go on, well,
Speaker 1: I went on. I told him that I had learned
Speaker 1: to stand so that the light wouldn't shine in my
Speaker 1: client's eyes when I was talking to him. I lost
Speaker 1: a big arder once because the glare from the window
Speaker 1: irritated the man I was talking to. I told Berg
Speaker 1: all the tricks I'd learned, and some I hadn't thought
Speaker 1: of till that minute. Berg put in a word now,
Speaker 1: and then I thought he was sort of guiding me,
Speaker 1: as he sometimes does, not unkindly, you know, but in
Speaker 1: that quiet way he has. Finally I stopped for breath
Speaker 1: or something, and he said, now let me talk a minute.
Speaker 1: Mc chesney. Anybody can teach you the essentials of the
Speaker 1: advertising business if you've any advertising instinct in you. But
Speaker 1: it's what you pick up on the side, by your
Speaker 1: own efforts and out of your own experience, that lifts
Speaker 1: you out of the scrub class. Now, I don't think
Speaker 1: you're an ideal advertising man by any means, mc chesney.
Speaker 1: You're shy on training and experience, and you've just begun
Speaker 1: to acquire that golden quality known as balance. I could
Speaker 1: name a hundred men that are better all round advertising
Speaker 1: men than you will ever be. Those men have advertising
Speaker 1: ability that glows steadily and evenly, like a well banked fire.
Speaker 1: But you've got the kind of ability that flares up,
Speaker 1: dies down, flares up. But every flare is a real
Speaker 1: blaze that lights things red while it lasts and sends
Speaker 1: a new glow through the veins of business. You've got personality,
Speaker 1: and youth and enthusiasm and a precious spark of the
Speaker 1: real thing known as advertising genius. There's no describing it.
Speaker 1: You know what I mean. Also, you know enough about
Speaker 1: actual advertising not to run an ad for a five
Speaker 1: thousand dollar motor car in the police gazette. All of
Speaker 1: which leads up to this question, how would you like
Speaker 1: to buy your necktars in Chicago? Mc chesney, Chicago, I've
Speaker 1: blurted out. We've taken a suite of offices in the
Speaker 1: new Lakeview Building on Michigan Avenue. Would you like your
Speaker 1: office done in Mahogany or oak? Jack came to a
Speaker 1: full stop before his mother. His cheeks were scarlet, hers
Speaker 1: were pale. He was breathing quickly. She very quiet. His
Speaker 1: eyes glowed, so did hers, but the glow was dimmed
Speaker 1: by a mist. Mahogany's richer, but make it oak Son,
Speaker 1: it doesn't show finger marks. So then quite suddenly she
Speaker 1: stood up, shaking a little, and buried her face in
Speaker 1: the boy's shoulder. Why why, mother, don't don't Blondie. We'll
Speaker 1: see each other every few weeks. I'll be coming to
Speaker 1: New York to see the sights like the rest of
Speaker 1: the Rubes, and I suppose the noise and lights will
Speaker 1: confuse me so that I'll be glad to get back
Speaker 1: to the Sylvan quiet of Chicago. And then you'll run
Speaker 1: out there. Eh, we'll have regular bats, missus mac enterant
Speaker 1: theater and supper. Yes, yes, said Emma mc chesney in
Speaker 1: muffled tones that totally lacked enthusiasm. Chicago's really only a
Speaker 1: suburb of New York anyway these days, And Emma mcchesney's
Speaker 1: head came up sharply. Look here, Son, if you're going
Speaker 1: to live in Chicago, I advise you to cut that
Speaker 1: suburb talk and start to forget New York. Chicago's quite
Speaker 1: a village for an inland settlement, even if it has
Speaker 1: only two or three million people, and the lake as
Speaker 1: big as all outdoors that kind of talk won't elect
Speaker 1: you to the university club, son. So they talked all
Speaker 1: through supper and during the evening. Rather, Jock talked and
Speaker 1: his mother listened, interrupting with only an occasional remark. When
Speaker 1: the bubble of the boy's elation seemed to grow too great.
Speaker 1: Quite suddenly, Jock was silent. After the almost incessant rush
Speaker 1: of conversation, quiet settled down strangely on the two Seated
Speaker 1: there in the living room with its soft shaded lamps,
Speaker 1: Jock picked up a magazine, twirled its pages, put it down,
Speaker 1: strolled into his own room, and back again. Mother, he said, suddenly,
Speaker 1: standing before her, there was a time when you were
Speaker 1: afraid I wasn't going to pan out, wasn't there Not
Speaker 1: exactly afraid, dear, just a little doubtful, Perhaps Jock forced
Speaker 1: a tolerant forgiving smile. You see, Mother, you didn't understand.
Speaker 1: That's all a woman doesn't. I was all right. A
Speaker 1: man would have realized that. I don't mean, Dear, that
Speaker 1: you haven't always been wonderful, because you have. But it
Speaker 1: takes a man to understand a man. When you thought
Speaker 1: I was going bad on your hands, I was just
Speaker 1: developing that's all. Remember that time in Chicago, mother, Yes,
Speaker 1: answered Emma mc chesney. I remember now, A man would
Speaker 1: have understood that that was only kid foolishness. If a
Speaker 1: fellow's got the stuff in him, it'll show up sooner
Speaker 1: or later. If I hadn't had it in me, I
Speaker 1: wouldn't be going to Chicago as manager of the Berg
Speaker 1: Shriner Western Office, would I. No, Dear Jock looked at her.
Speaker 1: In an instant he was all contrition and tenderness. You're tired.
Speaker 1: I've talked you to death, haven't I? Lordy, It's midnight,
Speaker 1: and I want to get down early tomorrow conference with
Speaker 1: mister Berg and hup. He tried not to sound too important.
Speaker 1: Emma mc chesney took his head between her two hands
Speaker 1: and kissed him once on the lips, then, standing a tiptoe,
Speaker 1: kissed his eyelids with infinite gentleness, as you kiss a
Speaker 1: baby's eyes. Then she brought his cheek up against hers,
Speaker 1: and so they stood for a moment silently. Ten minutes
Speaker 1: later there came the sound of blythe whistling from Jock's room.
Speaker 1: Jock always whistled when he went to bed and when
Speaker 1: he rose, even these years of living in a New
Speaker 1: York apartment had not broken him of the habit. It
Speaker 1: was a cheerful, disconnected whistling, sometimes high and clear, sometimes
Speaker 1: under the breath, sometimes interspersed with song, and sometimes seizing
Speaker 1: altogether at critical moments, say during shaving, or while bringing
Speaker 1: the foreign hand up tight and snug under the collar.
Speaker 1: It was one of those comfortable little noises that indicate
Speaker 1: a masculine presence, one of those pleasant, reassuring men in
Speaker 1: the house, noises that every woman loves. Emma mc chesney,
Speaker 1: putting herself to bed in her room across the hall,
Speaker 1: found herself listening, brush poised, lips parted as though to
Speaker 1: the exquisite strains of celestial music. There came the thump
Speaker 1: of a shoe on the floor, an interval of quiet,
Speaker 1: then another thump. Without having been conscious of it, Emma
Speaker 1: mc chesney had grown to love the noises that accompanied
Speaker 1: Jock's retiring and rising. His dressing was always signaled by
Speaker 1: bangings and thumpings. His splash in the tub were tremendous.
Speaker 1: His morning plunge could be heard all over the six
Speaker 1: room apartment. Missus mc chesney used to call gaily through
Speaker 1: the door. Mercy Jock, you sound like a school of
Speaker 1: whales coming up for air. You'll think I'm a school
Speaker 1: of sharks. When it comes to breakfast, Jock would call back,
Speaker 1: Tell Annie to make enough toast. Mum, she's the tightest
Speaker 1: thing with the toast I ever did. The rest would
Speaker 1: be lost and a final surging splash. The noises in
Speaker 1: the room across the hall had subsided. Now she listened
Speaker 1: more intently. No, a jar banged another. Then hasn't my
Speaker 1: gray suit come back from the tailors? It was to
Speaker 1: be sponged too, you know, he said he'd bring it Wednesday.
Speaker 1: This is Tuesday. Oh another bang? Then night mother, good night.
Speaker 1: Dear creaking sounds and a long, comfortable sigh of complete relaxation.
Speaker 1: Emma mc chesney went on with her brushing. She brushed
Speaker 1: her hair with the usual number of swift, even strokes
Speaker 1: from the top of the shining head to the waist.
Speaker 1: She braided her hair into two plaits, Gretchen fashion. Millions
Speaker 1: of scantily locked women would have given all they possessed
Speaker 1: to look as Emma mc chesney looked, standing there in
Speaker 1: kimono and gown. She nicked out the light. Then she
Speaker 1: too relaxed upon her pillow with a little sigh. Quiet
Speaker 1: fell on the little apartment. The street noises came up
Speaker 1: to her, now roaring, now growing faint. Emma mc chesney
Speaker 1: lay there, sleepless. She lay flat, hands clasped across her breast,
Speaker 1: her braids spread out on the pillow. In the darkness
Speaker 1: of the room. The years rolled before her in panorama,
Speaker 1: Her girlhood, her marriage, her unhappiness, Jock, the divorce, the
Speaker 1: struggle for work. Those ten years on the road, Those
Speaker 1: ten years on the road, How she had hated them
Speaker 1: and loved them. The stuffs, the jarring sleepers, the bare
Speaker 1: little hotel bedrooms, the bad food, the irregular hours, the loneliness,
Speaker 1: the hard work, the disappointments, the temptations. Yes, but the
Speaker 1: fascination of it, the dear friends she had made, the
Speaker 1: great human lessons of it. All and all for Jock,
Speaker 1: that Jock might have good schools, good clothes, good books,
Speaker 1: good surroundings, happy times. Why Jock had been the reason
Speaker 1: for it all. She had swallowed insult because of Jock.
Speaker 1: She had borne the drudgery because of Jock. She had
Speaker 1: resisted temptation, smiled under hardship, worked, fought, saved, succeeded, all
Speaker 1: because of Jock. And now this pivot about which her
Speaker 1: whole life had revolved was to be pulled up, wrenched away.
Speaker 1: Over Emma McChesney, lying there in the dark, there swept
Speaker 1: one of those unreasoning night fears, the fear of living,
Speaker 1: the fear of life, a straining of the eyeballs in
Speaker 1: the dark, the pounding of heartbeats. She sat up in bed,
Speaker 1: Her hands went to her face. Her cheeks were burning,
Speaker 1: and her eyes smarted. She felt that she must see
Speaker 1: Jock at once, just to be near him, to touch him,
Speaker 1: to take him in her arms, with his head in
Speaker 1: the hollow of her breast, as she used to when
Speaker 1: he was a baby. Why he had been a baby
Speaker 1: only yesterday, and now he was a man, big enough
Speaker 1: to stand alone, to live alone, to do without her.
Speaker 1: Emma mc chesney flung aside the covers and sprang out
Speaker 1: of bed. She thrust her feet in slippers, groped for
Speaker 1: the kimono at the foot of the bed, and tiptoed
Speaker 1: to the door. She listened no sound from the other room.
Speaker 1: She stole across the hall, stopped, listened, gained the door.
Speaker 1: It was opened an inch or more, just to be
Speaker 1: near him, to know that he lay there sleeping. She
Speaker 1: pushed the door very very gently. Then she stood in
Speaker 1: the doorway a moment, scarcely breathing, her head thrust forward,
Speaker 1: her whole body tense with listening. She could not hear
Speaker 1: him breathe. She caught her breath again in that unreasoning fear,
Speaker 1: and took a quick step forward. Stop or I'll shoot,
Speaker 1: said a voice. Simultaneously. The light flashed on. Emma McChesney
Speaker 1: found herself blinking at a determined young man who was
Speaker 1: steadily pointing a short, chubby, businesslike looking steel affair in
Speaker 1: her direction. Then the hand that held the steel dropped.
Speaker 1: What is this anyway? Demanded Jock rather crossly at George
Speaker 1: Cohan comedy. Emma mc chesney leaned against the foot of
Speaker 1: the bed rather weakly. What did you think? What would
Speaker 1: you think if you heard someone come sneaking along the hall,
Speaker 1: stopping listening, sneaking to your door, and then opening it
Speaker 1: and listening again and sneaking in. What would you think
Speaker 1: it was? How did I know you were going to
Speaker 1: go around making social calls at two o'clock in the morning. Suddenly,
Speaker 1: Emma McChesney began to laugh. She leaned over the footboard
Speaker 1: and laughed hysterically, her head in her arms. Jock stared
Speaker 1: a moment in offended disapproval. Then the humor of it
Speaker 1: caught him, and he buried his head in his pillow
Speaker 1: to stifle unseemly shrieks. His legs kicked spasmodically beneath the bedclothes.
Speaker 1: As suddenly as she had begun to laugh, missus McChesney
Speaker 1: became very sober. Stop it, Jock, Tell me, why weren't
Speaker 1: you sleeping? I don't know, replied Jock, as suddenly solemn.
Speaker 1: I sort of began to think, and I couldn't sleep.
Speaker 1: What were you thinking of? Jock looked down at the
Speaker 1: bedclothes and traced the pattern with one forefinger on the sheet.
Speaker 1: Then he looked up, thinking of you, oh, said Emma McChesney,
Speaker 1: like a bashful schoolgirl, of me. Jock sat up very
Speaker 1: straight and clasped his hands about his knees. I got
Speaker 1: to think, in as what I had said about having
Speaker 1: made good all along, that's rot. It isn't so. I
Speaker 1: was striped with yellow like a stick of lemon candy.
Speaker 1: If I've got this far. It's all because of you.
Speaker 1: I've been thinking all along that I was the original
Speaker 1: electric self starter when you really had to get out
Speaker 1: and crak me every few miles. Into Emma mc chesney's
Speaker 1: face there came a wonderful look. It was the sort
Speaker 1: of look with which a newly made angel might receive
Speaker 1: her crown and harp. It was the look with which
Speaker 1: a war hero sees the metal pinned on his breast.
Speaker 1: It was the look of one who had come into
Speaker 1: her reward. Therefore, what nonsense, said Emma mc chesney. If
Speaker 1: you hadn't had it in you, it wouldn't have come out.
Speaker 1: It wasn't in me in the first place, contested Jock, stubbornly,
Speaker 1: you planted it from her stand at the foot of
Speaker 1: the bed. She looked at him, her eyes glowing brighter
Speaker 1: and brighter with that wonderful look. Now see here, severely,
Speaker 1: I want you to go to sleep. I don't intend
Speaker 1: to stand here and dispute about your ethical innards at
Speaker 1: this hour. I'm going to kiss you again. Oh well,
Speaker 1: if you must, grinned Jock resignedly and folded her in
Speaker 1: a bear hug. To Imma McChesney, it seemed that the
Speaker 1: next three weeks leaped by, not by days, but in
Speaker 1: one great bound. And the day came when a little, chattering,
Speaker 1: animated group clustered about the slim, young chap who was
Speaker 1: fumbling with his tickets, glancing at his watch, signaling a
Speaker 1: porter for his bags, talking, laughing, trying to hide the
Speaker 1: pangs of departure under a cloak of gaiety and bandage
Speaker 1: that deceived no one, least of all did it deceive
Speaker 1: the two women who stood there. The eyes of the
Speaker 1: older woman never left his face. The eyes of the
Speaker 1: younger one seldom were raised to his, but she saw
Speaker 1: his every expression. Once Emma mcchesney's eyes shifted a little
Speaker 1: so as to include both the girl and the boy
Speaker 1: in her gaze. Grace Skult, in her blue surge and
Speaker 1: smart blue hat, was worth a separate glance. Sam Hupp
Speaker 1: was there t a buck hopper who was to be
Speaker 1: with him in Chicago for the first few weeks. Three
Speaker 1: or four of the younger men in the office. Frankly
Speaker 1: envious and heartily congratulatory, they followed him to his train,
Speaker 1: all laughter in animation. If this train doesn't go in
Speaker 1: two minutes, said Jock I'll get scared and chuck the
Speaker 1: whole business funny. But I'm not so keen on going
Speaker 1: as there was three weeks ago, his eyes rested on
Speaker 1: the girl in the blue surge and the smart hat.
Speaker 1: Emma mc chesney saw that. She saw that his eyes
Speaker 1: still rested there as he stood on the observation platform
Speaker 1: when the train pulled out. The sight did not pain
Speaker 1: her as she thought it would. There was success in
Speaker 1: every line of him as he stood there, hat in hand.
Speaker 1: There was assurance in every breadth of him. His clothes,
Speaker 1: his skins, in his clear eyes, his slim body, all
Speaker 1: were as they should be. He had made a place
Speaker 1: in the world. He was to be a builder of ideas.
Speaker 1: She thought of him, and of the girl in the
Speaker 1: blue serge, and of their children to be. Her breast
Speaker 1: swelled exultingly. Her head came up. This was her handiwork.
Speaker 1: She looked at it and found that it was good.
Speaker 1: Let's strike for the afternoon and call it holiday, suggested Buck.
Speaker 1: Emma McChesney turned. The train was gone. Ta, Yu'll never
Speaker 1: grow up, never want to come on. Let's play hooky, Emma,
Speaker 1: can't I've a dozen letters to get out and miss
Speaker 1: Lowe wants to show me that new knickerbocker design of hers.
Speaker 1: They drove back to the office almost in silence. Emma
Speaker 1: mc chesney made straight for her desk and began dictating
Speaker 1: letters with an energy that bordered on fury. At five o'clock,
Speaker 1: she was still working. At five point thirty, t A
Speaker 1: Buck came in to find her, still surrounded by papers, set, apples, models.
Speaker 1: What is this, he demanded, wrathfully, an all night's session.
Speaker 1: Emma mc chesney looked up from her desk. Her face
Speaker 1: was flushed, her eyes bright, but there was about her
Speaker 1: an indefinable air of weariness. Ta I'm afraid to go home.
Speaker 1: I'll rattle around in that empty flat like a hickory
Speaker 1: nut in a barrel. We'll have dinner down town and
Speaker 1: go to the theater. No use, I'll have to go
Speaker 1: home sometime now, Emma remonstrated, Buck. You'll soon get used
Speaker 1: to it. Think of all the years you got along
Speaker 1: without him. You were happy, weren't you happy? Because I
Speaker 1: had somebody to work, for, somebody to plan, for somebody
Speaker 1: to worry about. When I think what that flat will
Speaker 1: be without him? Why just to wake up and know
Speaker 1: that you can say good morning to someone who cares.
Speaker 1: That's worth living for, isn't it, Emma said, Ta evenly,
Speaker 1: do you realize that you are virtually hounding me into
Speaker 1: asking you to marry me? A gasped Emma mc chesney. Well,
Speaker 1: you said you wanted somebody to worry about, didn't you.
Speaker 1: A little whimsical smile lay lightly on his lips, Timothy Buck,
Speaker 1: I'm over forty years old, Emma. In another minute, I'm
Speaker 1: going to grow sentimental, and nothing can stop me. She
Speaker 1: looked down at her hands. There fell a little silence.
Speaker 1: Buck stirred, leaned forward. She looked up from the little
Speaker 1: watch that ticked away at her wrist. The minutes up,
Speaker 1: ta said Emma mc chesney. End of chapter five in
Speaker 1: of Personality Plus by Edna Ferber