Abilene weekly reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1888-1935, 1902-06-12

y
upon the managers golf shirt. Jes
sic wiped sticky blotch from her ros.
face. A box Of freshly labelled tins wa
in disgrace
"Cussed carelessness!" exclaimed tn
angry manager. See here, Dave"
sir"
Another burst. Can set away will
q leak in it again. Why don't you stoI
such slovenly work."
"The member went over 'em all,
muttered Dave
with his eys shut" commented thu
manager, severely.
Accidents will happen" the cool
persisted.
IF there's another in your depart
ment there'll be a shake up"
The managers tone closa9 the con
versation with a sort Of bang. 1t hurt
Dave as though his finger had beer
caught against the door jamb, and thu
worst OF the pain was that Jessie had
heard. The manager had not said any.
thing so very bad II he had not said II
before Jessie. Dave wondered II 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.
mo- she laughed, still reckoning to
the cans. That was all, but 1t seemed
to soothe Dave, and he laughed. Jessie
laughed too The manager was In his
office, seriously divesting himself OF aD-
ricot Juice and sugar.
1t seemed cooler In the steamy
kitchen, though the mercury was ris-
Ing. Through the open door Dave saw
the manager strollng among the hur-
rying cutters Some Of the girls could
halve the cot and flip out the pit with
one quick twist Of knife and thumb.
The motion seemed simple, but you
could not understand 1t at first sight.
Have em look little sharper after
their sorting, Miss Bumble!" the man
ager called, after a fash Of his quick
eye around the room.
"All right, sir!" said the "forelady,"
who was clicking a hole with a ticket
punch in the tag Of fat and wheezy
cutter who had brought her pile Of pits
to get credit for having finished box
of the cots. A hole in her tag was
worth six cents to her my, amt 1t
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 the
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 a Santa Ana"
said the wheezy one.
Trays" sang out shril trio OF so
pranos in the cutting room.
always short Of trays! | believe
the boys eat 'em" growled the mana
ger, 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 altogeth-
or to the qualification of Dave. The
cooking was a critical process; and
then from the back door of the kitchen
the manager could keep one eye on the
labelling Privately Dave had expos
tulated to Hebe that 1t didn't do the
help any good to eye EN- all the time;
whereat Hebe winked privately and lu-
at the sealer.
The last batch Of the forenoon had
been put In to cook, and Dave scanned
the water closely to see II telltale
bubble was escaping from leaky can
the water quivered. Dave
felt little Jar, and heard crash as
II a tall stack of trays had toppled
over In the cutting room.
True to his truck, the manager
leaped up and stood astride corner OF
one of the big tanks, peering across
the half partition, to see what the mis-
chief
There came a creaklng sound. The
swayed the partitions heav-
Ing and the boards grinding against
each other. There was another jar, as
IL 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 Cod" yelled the sealer, "the
boss Is parbolled!"
For a quivering moment the whole
cannery seemed horror stricken; then
all rushed for the tank. One woman
fell in a faint, and the others swept by
her. Dave stood as II paralyzed, but
with queer look on his face that was
either lunacy or amused self posses
sion. There was 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 a cold tank
The manager was clamberlng out,
rejecting courtesies, He was dumb,
pale, unreconciled. 1t was his weak
ness to take himself too seriously. II
nobody else laughs at him, a man
should jolly himself once in a while.
There was only ono litter, and 1t
came from the labelling shed. The
turned, colored, bit his lip.
and wrung out his brown side whis-
kers. The one word fire escaped him,
and he hurried of, the pink shirt cling.
Ing to him like shiny sticker on q
can.
When the new pie label came out II
was decorated with striking figure
OF q mountain lion showing his teeth
and crouching for spring which was
at once businesslike and appetlzing.