The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1890-02-01

from q Sne1, rs une VOiAnue'
Phoebe looked at it with a happy smile
and waited for more.
"Haye YOU ever taken subscriptions"
asked the gentleman.
"No," said Phoebe; "but p
"Ah, yes, you will be very successful,
am sure" said the gentleman. "We
give you list of streets, numbers, names
of residents. You call with the book;
ask to see Mrs. So and So, or Mr.. So and
So; send up your name; your card is
preferable. You rise when the person
enters; say How do you do, Mrs. So and
So? l feel that you would be interested
in this work and called to show it to
you. You then talk in such manner
that the person subscribes for the book.
On receiving the money we give you the
percentage. You see?
Eyes," said poor Phoebe, who, under
the revulsion of feeling, was on the verge
of fainting Git. Eyes. 1t is like the
man with Dosem's Family Medicine
and the other books, who comes to our
house sometimes. But you give fifty
dollars per week."
"Fifty, dear madam cried the man,
laughing and rubbing his hands gayly.
cat ten cents on each book you can
easily get hundred subscribers day
six hundred a week; sixty dollars for
the six days work. With your mesmeric
power-I see it in your eyes-you will
make more"
Poor Phoebe began to feel better. 1t
would be terrible work; not at all what
she supposed; but-anything, anything
for father and the homestead
"This is a specimen copy" said the
gentleman. "You buy this little book
for your names. 1t has pencil attach
ed; twenty-five cents. And you leave
one dollar deposit for the book"
SIS that necessary" sighed Phoebe.
"Well, we exact it of ALL" said the
amiable Mr.. Cozzen. "What would you
have? We can't make exceptions; we
should offend Others"
Phoebe paid the dollar and quarter,
took the book and walked away, glancing
at the outline of her "beat," which was
far up town.
The book was a collection of receipts,
advice to youth, selections from Bryant's
poems and fun from old jest books. 1t
had also many patent medicine adver-
tisements bound between its covers, and
four OF five portraits of "beauties" with
their heads on one side and a simpering
smile upon their faces.
Poor Phoebe! she hoped against hope
as the street car took her up town, and
still cherished much more of that COM
forting emotion than could have been
expected, when her feet touched the red
hot fiagstones of Fifty-seventh street,
and the tall residences stared down at
her with half their doors closed with
those wooden barriers that say to all
who look, Family gone to Europe"
But yet there were steps that might be
climbed, and Miss Mumford climbed
them patiently.
She saw asweet, old lady, who beamed
on her and said:
"We've such large library now, we
can't really add to it. There's not room
in the house for another book"
She saw sarcastic lady, who said:
"Greatly obliged for the attention. It
is wonderful book-wonderful but I
couldn't understand it. I have to read
lighter things; Ny brain, You know,
won't bear too much"
sh.e saw decided lady, who said:
"No, no, indeed! oh, mop and opened
the door.
She saw contemptuous young lady,
who simply shook her head, and rang
for footman to "show this person out"
Then she saw grandpapa with dyed
mustache and an eye glass, who was gall
liant and offensive. Then she received
many mot at homes" from angry SER
wants, who knew her errand well, and
felt that they had been troubled to open
thedoor unnecessarily. After many long,
hot, wasted hours she found that her
next number was drug store, and en-
tered it, thankful for its cool shadow.
She was hot, thirsty, wretched. She
longed for glass of the ice cold soda
water, but had only little change,
which must serve for fares, in her pocket.
She stood before the counter and re-
peated her little story-her talk about
the book. The druggist smiled as he
| glanced at the volume.
ST would not half such drash in mine
house." he said. "You waste your dime
NIT book like dis"
sit seems worthless to me-" said poor
Phoebe, signing.
"You get dock in, like some oder beo-
| pies, NIT dem rascals," said the German.
"You look dried, madame, and not VEIL
Go home and rest-I atvise you as doc
| tor"
A customer, who had been looking at
| her, threw down the price of tooth
brush he had bought, and Selling his
| purchase, followed Phoebe out of the
| door.
"Let me see your book, madame" he
said. Every nice; I'll subscribe. Give
me your book, I'll write my name and
| residence"
| He did SO. Phoebe thanked him, and
| tried to read it, but the letters danced
before her eyes. Her head was so hot,
so heavy, she must go back to Mr.. Coz
zen's, get her dollar, give in her sub
scription, tell him that she had failed.
| She would feel better after she had
rested, she thought-better. How kind
that man had been. But he subscribed
for her book-she knew it well-out of
sheer pity; as one gives aims to beg
gar.
She was in Mr.. Cozzen's office again.
He looked at her out of his bush of white
hair. His black eyes and black nose
more poodle like than before.
She had wasted her day, risked sun
stroke, failed in her effort, and crushed
her hopes. What did he care, if he had
one subscription more? A book agent
was almost sure to get one, and hundreds
toiled over the earth every day with the
same results.
every foolish to give it up so" he de-
clared. "The first day never counts.
have ladies on my list making hundred
dollars week who got no subscribers on
the first day, and Oh, your dollar?
Yes, yesl And here is your percentage
ten cents. But you ought not to despair
when you have secured the name Of
Capt. Barton on your list. Well, good
day."
She was gone, threading the streets
that led to the ferry. The boat first;
then the train. Was that the train COM
ing? What roar! How black it wasl
She staggered, but she did not fall to
the ground. Some one caught her in
his arms.
Out of darkness, out of rest, out of
strange communion with her mother in
another world, Phoebe foated back to