The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1891-08-19
Selected Storp.
The staff Of the i" Briggs
Vile Bugle.D


dignity of the foreman of the mechani-
cal department of the BriggsviHe Buqle
to lose his self-control in this way, and
he looked around uneasily as a fluffy
haired girl at case near by sniggered
and made whispered remark to another
compositor; then they looked at him
and laughed.
What made the foreman jump was
whistle from speaking-tube not far
from his ear. He did not Immediately
obey the summons, and another
whistle, more pronounced and longer
than the first, made him glue his mouth
to the tube and bawl back, " Hellor'
"Come into my room at once. Don't
you unders and?"
Mr.. Bernard Bergeois thought he
understood, and taking off his apron
went into the hallway. From an ad-
joining room he heard the clicking of
a typewriter, at intervals with steady
"plunk" and then with brief inter-
missions of silence. He hesitated be-
fore knocking at the closed door, for
when the 4" old man " used his machine
that way it was an office maxim that he
was in bad temper.
temper when Mr.. Bernard Bergeois
mustered up enough courage TO face
him. His eyes cleaned through pair
of gold-bowed spectacles, and his hair,
which was turning gray, was rumpled
over his forehead. He gave the tardy
foreman reprimand for his slowness,
and then made a remark that upset Mr..
Bernard Bergeois. "Send everybody
home," be said.
81 don't think l quite understand,
SIR" faltered the foreman. at is but
a little after four O'clock"
"That makes no difference. Can't
you hear? Send every one away from
here except my of1ice-boy. That's
plain enough, isn't it?"
Every now and then the g. old man "
would absently strike key with his
finger, and then look up and jerk out a
few words.
"But there are five columns to set"
began the bewidered foreman.
"Come earlier in the morning, then.
| don't want anybody around now.
How can man write with those presses
out there making such an everlasting
noise, and you people in the composing
room giggling and making the devil of
a racket? Why don't you have better
discipline out there?"
Mr.. Bernard Bergeois had no
answer ready. He was quite nom
plussed. Never before in the course of
his professional career had he received
such an order as this. "Send every
body home!" Was the "old man "
going insane? Did he not know that
tomorrow was publication day?
"There are five columns" he be-
gan again.
"Send your five columns to the
deucel" interrupted the other, furiously.
" | don't care whether there are five
columns or fifty, so long as every one
Of you gets out of here. Send me my
boy"
Now the ofice-boy, who, by-the-way,
was named Cox, but who was known to
his intimate friends as Swipesey,' was
much more pleased with the orders he
had received than the worthy foreman.
He went down into the lower Office and
sat in an easy-chair, with his feet on
the desk in front of him, and with
lordly air watched the other employees
file out.
Hope you have very pleasant
time" he said politely to the fluffy
haired compostor. eve can run this
office alone this afternoon, aCe can. |
write the eddytorials and sets them up.
The old man, he's writing important
letters, and can't be disturbed. Good
afternoon"
Cox made himself comfortable in the
easiest chair he could find, and amused
himself by looking over a pile of ex-
changes on desk near at hand. Pres
emily this began to bore him, and he
began rummaging about the room. 1t
was seldom that he was in the lower
Office alone, and he amused himself by
climbing up on high stool, and taking
a pen and ink and scrib5ling on some of
the otlice-paper.
" | can do this, when [ am one of
the eddytors," he chuckled to himself.
Just then he heard some one coming
up the stairs slowly and turning in at
the door of the office. He raised his
head and looked over the desk, and
saw woman standing there. She had
a very pale face, but was very hand
some She looked at the boy YEARLY.
SIS the editor in?" she asked.
i" Well, that depends, +" said Swipesey,
still scribbling vigorously, and looking
up between dabs at the white paper be-
fore him. Which one do you want to
see?'
The woman sighed YEARLY, and then
said, with an effort, " Mr.. Griswold.n
" am very sorry," began the boy,
hitching his stool little forward, and
grabbing his cap off, and laying it care
fully down before him, " but he is very
busy-very busy, indeed-and gave
orders that he was not to be disturbed.
If there is anything can do" and he
paused eXpectantly.
" Nothing" she replied, and sat
down. in chair near the window. "Will
you please tell him lady is waiting to
see him when he is at liberty?n
Now the oflice-boy scarcely knew
what to do. He did not exactly care
to go up stairs on an errand like that;
it would ruin his dignity, after the re-
marks he had already made. Besides,
the editor was in nasty temper, and
might throw an ink bottle at him or