The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1899-12-08

standing of his brands, possibly the
manager could not have thought OF a
| happier distinction than having ones
face stamped in green and gold on
the glittering labels of the California
Consolidated No. 4 Pie Apricot. And,
indeed, has not la diva been flattered
into serving the less gorgeous designs
of tooth powder and soap?
There was a little hiss, an audible
fermentation, then a pop and slam. A
pyramid of cans, toppled over and a
splash of yellow lusciousness was flung
upon the managers golf shirt. Jessie
wiped sticky b,otch from her rosy
face. A box of freshly labeled tins was
in disgrace.
"Cussed carelessness!" exclaimed the
angry manager. ''See here, Dave!"
''Sir?'
| Another burst. Can set away with
leak in it, again. Why don't you stop
such slovenly work?"
| tered Dave.
| With his eyes Shut" commented the
manager, savagely.
| Accidents will happen" the cook
| persisted.
IF there's another in your depart
ment. there'll be a shake-up."
The managers tone closed the con-
versation with sort of bang, 1t hurt
Dave as though his finger had been
caught against the door jamb, and the
worst OF the pain was that Jessie had
heard. The manager had not said any,
| thing so very bad if he had not said it
| before Jessie. Dave wondered if there
was any foundation for the girls Cos
sip about the pink shirt and all that.
He turned flushed and injured face
toward Jessie.
Hurt. Jess ~ he asked.
No. she laughed, still reckoning to
the cans. That was all, but it seemed
TO soothe Dave, and he laughed. Jessie
laughed, too. The manager was in his
| Office, seriously divesting himself CT
apricot juice and sugar
1t seemed cooler in the steamv kitch-
en- though the mercury was rising.
Through the open door Dave soon saw
the manager strolling among the hurry
| ing cutters. Some of the girls could
halve the cot and flip out the pit with
one quick twist of the knife and thumb.
The motion seemed simple, but YOU
could not understand it at first sight.
| Have EN- look little sharper after
their sorting. Miss Bum ble!'' the man
| ager called. after a flash of his quick
eye around the room.
All right. sir" said the "foreladv ~
who was clicking hole with a ticket
punch in the tag of a fat and Wheeling
cutter, who had brought her pile of pits
10 get credit for having finished a box
OF the cots. \ hole in her tag was
worth six cents to her. MY, amt it
not! she pulled, wiping her face with
her apron. 1t was late in July and the
sun beat remorselessly on the CORFU
gated iron roof. The fat woman won
dered why the manager had not set
some eucalyptus trees around the
works, as she stood in the doorway for
moment and gazed longingly at the
mountains half hidden by a gray gauze
| of dust. Looks like Santa Ana" said
the wheezy one.
"Irays.' sang out shrin trio of So
pranos in the cutting-room.
always short of trays! Ibelieve the
boys eat 'em!" growled the manager,
passing through to the kitchen and
shaking things up all along the line
The manager spent more time in the
kitchen than in his Office, not altogether
to the qualification of Dave. The cook
ing was critical process; and then
from the back door of the kitchen the
manager could keep one eye on the Ia
being. Privately, Dave had expostu-
lated to Hebe that it didn't do the help
any good to eye 'em all the time; where
at Hebe winked privately and lumi-
| nously at the sealer.
The last batch of the forenoon had
been put in to cook, and Dave scanned
the water closely to see if tell-tale
bubble was escaping from leaky can
Suddenly the water quivered. Dave felt
| little jar, and heard crash as if a
tall stack CT loaded trays had toppled
over in the cutting-room.
True to his trick, the manager leaped
up and stood astride corner of one of
the big tanks, peering across the half
partition to see what the mischief
There came creaking sound. The
building swayed, the partitions heaving
and the boards grinding against each
other. There was another jar. as if a
freight-shifter had bumped into the
cannery-then a tremendous splash,
and sprays of water Kissed upon the
| sealer's hot irons.
A second of staring, startling silence
was followed by chorus of shrieks that
overwhelmed all things. After the
earthquake was over the girls had time
to be frightened.
"My!" yelled the sealer, ''the boss is
| parboiled!'
For quivering moment the whole
cannery seemed horror-stricken, then
all rushed for the tank. One woman fell
in faint, and the others swept by her.
Dave stood as if paralyzed, but with a
queer look on his face that was either
lunacy or amused self-possession
There were sounds of a struggle in the
tank, but no cry was heard.
| With blanched face the sealer brushed
by Dave and reached for the steam
| valve.
NO" said Dave, holding him back,
| ''that's a cold tank
The manager was clambering out, re-
jecting courtesies. He was dumb, pale,
| unreconciled. 1t was his weakness to
take himself too seriously. If nobody
else laughs at him, man should jolly
himself once in awhile.
There was only one litter, and it came
from the labeliuo-shed. The MANAGER