The Worthington advance., 1901-01-04
The Revolt In Shop Z
BY A. A. Smith.


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Copyright IN. the Authors' syndicats)
MRS. JILLSON'S soquacity was both
Nl the wonder and torment of the
Daily Aspect force, Typographical
union No. n. Nothing approaching
her in volubility had ever been known
before. Shop No. ~ was wont to men
tion with sort of dismal pride in the
distinction that their Mrs. Jillson
could out-talk anything in the craft,
and this belief was sustained by the
testimony of "Neck," the loose-joint-
ed tourist from Tennessee, who was
built something like giraffe and held
cases in Mrs. Jillson's alley. "Neck"
had worked in all sorts of newspaper
Offices, from New Orleans to Mon
treal.
Mrs. Jillson's favorite topic was the
Job Offices of Chicago and her expe-
riences therein. and she was enter
tanning the tourist from Tennessee
with distracting tumble of personal
recollections, while in impotent fury
that worthy writhed and twisted the
elongated organ which gave him his
name. She was a little old woman,
and there was tacit understanding
that she was not to be "called down"
as were other offenders.
"Oh dear me, don't you know how
disappointed I was everything was
30 strange wasn't used to it at all,
80 much correcting to do I couldn't
make anything at all and got so dis
couraged I had a notion to quit. But
of course we got used to it after
awhile it was all right and such good
wages I wish I was there now. Oh
dear me yes it's so much nicer to
work in the city"
Minus" the one-eyed apprentice,
spaced his lines with particular care
as he cast apprehensive glances at
Richards, the foreman, who was max
ing up the patent medicine lads"
The boy knew that the sulphuric
Richards always dwelt with especial
emphasis upon the shortcomings of
apprentices when he was goaded by
Mrs. Jillson.
"The job Offices of Chicago were so
dirty" Mrs. Jillson was rattling away
with her accustomed complacency.
"Perfectly awful not fit for a woman
to work in you know. but then of
course they were not all that way,
some of them were real nice and such
nice men to work for"
'Suffering Noses" muttered Rich
ards, viciously slamming plate into
place, twill that woman never stop
talkinge Minus! Don't you ever
sweep out under this stone?"
"I'll do it right now, SIR" meekly
replied Minus, slipping quickly from
his stool.
ITS perfectly awful the way they
do on some of those religious papers,"
continued the loquacious one. "Used
to lock the doors and work on Sunday
the managers wouldn't know a thing
about it, my, how they did behave it
was awful don't you think so? Oh
of course they were not all that
way"
'Minus!" roared the foreman. "Say;
what are you raising such a dust for?
Don't you know better than to sweep
during working hours?"
II cant make out this word" said
Mrs. Jillson, approaching Richards.
"Such bother and hate to disturb
you oh I do wish they'd learn to write,
what do you suppose he means to say
there now. is it PETERS mulishness,'
no it can't be that looks more like"
"Oh, for heavens sake," blazed forth
Richards, fairly exasperated. "Shut
up minute and I'll tell you. 'Whis-
kers,' of course. PETERS whiskers.' I"
And Mrs. Jillson. for once in her life
struck speechless by the torrent of
the foreman's wrath, took her copy
and walked Imply back to her case.
A constrained silence fell upon the
little group of printers. There was
no approval in the glances cast to-
ward their irritable foreman, for Mrs.
Jillson was considered a privileged
character in that office. and most of
the printers cherished resentments
of their own. Half ashamed of the
language he had used to an old lady,
silly and exasperating even though
she was. Richards turned away and
went about his work.
what if she does talk" he thought.
IF it does her any good she can keep
on. An old woman who has to grub
for her living in this Tophet of a
printing office. might be allowed that
privilege, if it's any satisfaction to
her. Maybe I ought to go and apolo-
gize."
But Richards did not apologize. He
went to the case where the quaking
apprentice was laboriously setting re-
print, and inspected the matter in
his stick.
"These lines are spaced first-rate," )"
he said. you're improving, Minus"
AS the clock struck IL the printers
trooped out for dinner. Unlike the
others, Richards always ate his lunch
at the office, ostensibly because of the
distance to his home. In reality he
knew it was dread Of the oppressive
memories which the place recalled,
and from which he could find partial
relief in incessant activity and atten-
ton to his work. 1t was only last
New Years that he had laid away
the bright-eyed, joyous wife who had
been his companion and helpmeet,
and while the bells were pealing forth
in joyous promise they seemed to
sound the knell for his own dead
heart, buried forever. Richards had
been a different man from that time.