River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1899-12-07
A Shaken Attachment
BY Harry E. Andrews.
THE cannery cook looked nervOusl

GO a, and three experimental Jets of
steam sputtered up in impatient bub-
bles through the cold water. Somewhat
relieved, he shut the valve and glanced
at the clock on the wall. Apparently il
had stopped like the rest of the works.
THE slowest gang of girls | ever
saw" he snorted. Dave was a high
pressure boiler, but he frequently
let off.
Ayoungish, brown-whiskered man, in
a pink golf shirt, jumped on the edge of
the tank and balanced there p~erilously.
He was the manager of the California
Consolidated Apricot company. Rest
lessuess and vehemence boiled down, he
often said he paid Dave extra wages to
help him fume. One reason why the
manager managed everything so well
was because he knew so well how to
manage the manager.
Hang it, Dave!" said he, 'the min
ute a girl gets TO be good for anything,
she quits and marries. If could keep
my best help, life would be worth living.
Come, girls, comet"
1t quickened the workers across the
half partition, this clarion call and the
glimpse of the managers tense face.
The boss is getting cranky" said a
brown-haired girl with rubber glove
fingers on, hurriedly poking a half
apricot through the little round hole in
the top Of the can. All the packers had
their fingers protected against the
cruel curve of the tin. White cotton
rags would do.
'Have you noticed how the boss has
duded up lately?" asked the blond, who
sozzled the sirup into the packed cans
with the rubber lawn hose that came
down from the vat in the attic. She was
rather stately and ambrosial, and re-
minded one of Hebe on a frieze irrigat-
ing her row of gods with sweetened
water. The California Consolidated
had dumped a ton of sugar into its nee
tar pots that very morning.
Don't You sabe?" asked another
girl. Jessie did, pretty pronto."
Spanish adapts itself elegantly to slang
in the southwest.
''Oh, you're locoed!" rejoined Hebe,
swishing the nectarous nozzle from one
little tin god to another with an elysian
disregard of the spin. The manager
will look above Jessie!" she added.
you see!"
Dave had turned the valve again, and
the steam roared into one of the big
tanks. Another Kissed and growled,
and the conversation of the girls was
inaudible. The packers had caught up
with the process room, and the apricot
factory was in full blast. How deftly
the sealer blistered the yarn of solder
around the can tops, which spun on the
revolving disks in front of him. The
metal string ran down from a coil over
his head. the whirling can caught it.
and the hot iron tied the knot. The
other workers might fall behind, but
the sealer could stand in his tracks,
hold his hands over the w~hirligigs, look
pleasant and keep caught up.
The manager drew a breath of salts
faction as he saw the platform of cans
lowered into the kissing bath. Give
'em IS minutes this time. Dave" he said,
and passed into the labelling shed.
If there was anything that pleased
The manager more than another II was
his labelling department; and perhaps
he could not have told whether his la
bells or his labeler gave him the more
pleasure. To the eye they were equally
inviting. The cream-and-yellow I'M
d~ertones of the enameled wrappers app
pealed 10 ones imagination; they
tasted good. Upon them the designer
had ripened two juicy apricots. sug-
costing that the only bite in the world
worth taking came from the fabulous
orchards of California. Its the label
and not the stock that sells the pack
the manager would admit. in a conf
Dental moment. The golden apples of
the Hesperides would have humbugged
more people than they did had there
been photographers in those days.
Jessie's left hand picked up a g@listen-
ing label and her right seized a can of
fruit; one end of the label tiirted daint-
lily through a little pool of paste at the
end Of her bench; the can revolved once
and rolled itself into the wrapper
done! An ugly tin had turned into a
thing Of beauty. Jessie had merely
beckoned and II had jumped into its
yellow Jacket. Small wonder was it
that the other girls thought she had
beckoned the manager into his pink
shirt,
He stood for a moment and admired
her. The lines OF her fair face and
blooming figure had not been hardened
bv the months she had spent in the can-
merry. earning her dollar and 60 cents
a dav. II wonder if | shall lose her,
tool" the manager said to himself. 1t
would be hare to tell all that was in his
thoughts then. Most of the time he
was thinking of the success of the com
pauy and the difficulties of keeping
good help. by %iove!'' he went on, his
counteuance lighting up with a bust
ness inspiration, "l1l put her picture on
the new pie labeli'
This enthusiastic intention was in
tended as a compliment and perhaps
more. With his absorbing devotion to
the fruit trade and his glory in the
standing of his brands. possibly the
manager could not have thought of a
happier distinction than having ones
face stamped in green and god on
the glittering labels of the California
Consolidated No. l Pie Apricot. And,
indeed, has not Ia diva been fiattered
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 topped over and a
splash OF yellow l-usciousness was flung
upon the managers golf shirt. Jessie
wiped a sticky biotch from her rosy
face. \ box of freshly labeled tins was
ia disgrace.
'Cussed earelessness!" exclaimed the
angry manager, See here, Dave!'
.Sir?"
"Anothev burst. Can set away with
a leak in it, again. Why don't YOU stop
such slovenly work."
''The member went over 'em all" mutt
tered Dave.
with his eyes shut, commented the
manager. sayageiy.
Accidents will happen" the cook
persisted.
IF there's another in your depart
ment, there1l be a ~shake-up."
The managers o n closed the con