St. Tammany farmer. [volume] (Covington, La.) 1874-current, 1900-01-06

HuIe. win his dDsQTDinT QeNOliOu u
the fruit trade and his glory in II,
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 giittering Labels Of the California
Consolidated No. l Pie Apricot. And
indeed. has not Ia diva been fiattsred
INTO serving the less gorgeous designs
of tooth powder and soap?
| There was little hiss. an audible
fermentation. then pop and slam. \
| pyramid eof cans toppled over and a
splash of yellow lnscionsness was flung
upon the managers golf shirt. Jessie
| wiped sticky biotch from her rosy
face. a box of freshly labeled tins was
in disgrace.
| "Cussed carelessness." exclaimed the
angry manager. See here, Dave."
| "Siro"
Another burst. Can set away with
a leak in it, again. Why don't you stop
such slovenly work."
| The member went over 'em ALL NUT
tered Dave.
| with his eyes shut" commented the
manager, savagely.
Accidents will happen" the cook
persisted.
III there's another in your depart
ment, there'1l be shake-up.''
The managers tone closed the con-
versation with a sort OF bang. 1t hurt
Dave as though his finger had bec,:
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 il
before Jessie. Dave wondered if there
was any foundation for the girls gos-
sip about the pink shirt and all that.
He turned a flushed and injured face
toward Jessie.
Hurt. Jess?" he asked
No." she laughed. still beckoning tc
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 of
apricot juice and sugar.
1t seemed cooler in the steamy 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 ii at first sight.
Have 'em look little sharper after
their sorting. Miss Bumble!" the mar
ager called. after fash of his quick
eye around the room.
.-All right. sir" said the .foreladv. :,
who was clicking hole with ticket
punch in the tag of fat and Wheeling
cutter. who had brought her pile of pits
to get credit for having finished a box
of the cots. A hole in her tag was
worth six cents to her. My. amt il
hot. she puffed. 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. IL.
works. as she stood in the doorway for
a moment and gazed longingly at the
mountains half hidden by gray gauze
| of dust. Looks like Santa Ana" said
the wheezy one.
Trays. sang out shrill trio of 50
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 al! along the line
The manager spent more time in the
kitchen than in his Office net altogether
TO the qualification of Dave. The cook
ing was 4 critical process: and then
from the back door of the kitchen che
manager could keep one eye on the la
beling. Privately. Dave had eNpostu-
lated to Hebe that it didn't do the help
any good to eye 'em all the time: where
at Hebe winked privately and lami-
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 ,ell-tale
bubble was escaping from a leaky can.
Suddenly the water quiversd. Dave felt
a little jar. and heard crash rs if a
tall stack cf loaded trays had toppled
over in the cutting-room.
True to his trick. the manager leaped
up and stood astriie a 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
ether. There was another jar. as if a
freight-shifter had bumped into the
cannery-then a tremendous splash.
ard sprays of water hissed upon the
sealer's hot irons.
\ 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
i'm 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 cold tank"
The manager was clambering ont. re-
iecting courtesies. He was dumb. pale,
unreconciled. 1t was his weakness to
take himself too seriously. If nobody
,lse laughs at him. a man should jolly
himself once in awhile.
There was only one litter, and it came
from the labeling-shed. The manager
turned. coIored. bit his lip and wrung
out his brown side whiskers. Then one
word of fire escaped him. and he hur-
ried off. the pink shirt clinging to him
like shiny sticker on can.
When the new pie label came out il
.x-stb - rsE fus,rn ~