The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1904-11-25


eleven, you know. I'm going to par
ty tonight, and I want to try on the
new gown mothers making for me.
It's just the prettiesr dress"
Mr.. Wolfe glanced from the papers
in his big hand to the Office clock.
This letter" he began.
Couldn't l do it the first thing
this afternoon" pleaded Telxla, eager
ly. "You see, mother can't do thing
more to that waist until I've tried it
on"
well, if that's the case, 1 sup
pose"
ooh, thank you'll" cried Tekla. hur-
riedly darting away.
Mr.. Armstrong, who had suffered in
silence for six weeks, rose and slam
med the door.
"That girls the limit" he snapped.
eff 1 had my way, I'd fire her so quick
she wouldn't know what had happen
ed"
"In that case" said Mr.. Wolfe, "she
probably wouldn't realize why she was
fred, and the experience wouldn't do
her any good"
81 would do me good" declared Mr..
Armstrong. "Shes utterly impossi-
| ble.''
NO." said Mr.. Wolfe, there's good
stuff in that girl. 1t means some
thing in this business where figures
count for SO much, to have a girl
who is absolutely accurate"
"And absolutely Ignorant" sneered
Mr.. Armstrong, whose love for the old
er partner made him quick to resent
anything that seemed like an imposi-
ton.
WELL" returned Mr.. Wolfe, mildly,
"as long as typewriting is all l ex-
pect of her, don't mind that. So far,
those quick little fingers of hers
haven't made mistake. Miss Dodd,
as you know, got us into hot water
about eighteen times last year by her
inability to stick to straight copy.
Yes, there's good stuff in that little
girl, but she certainly lacks realiz-
ing sense"
Cor any other kind of sense! She
isn't giving you three solid days work
week."
"She's giving me MORE" said Wolfe,
smiling whimsically, and casting
rueful glance at his outspread fingers,
as he sat down at Tekla's typewriter.
'If they weren't built so like sausages
wouldn't mind, but it seems to me
! that hit everything within six inches
| OIL fo~ nOk 0t
that! Figure for "a every time.
But bad as it is, it's more legible than
my handwriting"
"Why don't you give the girl good
talking to, if she's worth taking pains
With"
"Well," confessed Mr.. Wolfe, insert
ing fresh sheet, and with one heavy
forefinger laborously ticking off the
date, "to tell the truth, have. l went
around there one night about three
weeks ago and talked to her like a
| grandfather. You know You can't be
right down hard on little liglit-heart-
ed thing like that. Her mother
doesn't seem much older than she
is, and they certainly do need the
money. 1 talked to them both. They
| they seemed pleased"
"Humph!" exploded Mr.. Armstrong,
Indignantly. "I'll talk to her."
mo, you won't" said Mr.. Wolfe,
resting his large, calm eyes for long
moment on his partners perturbed
countenance. Talk just rolls off that
girl like salad dressing from an iced
tomato. Some sort of kindergar-
ten method might work better. I'm
willing to take little pains with her
because of her father. Mighty nice
chap was old Samuel Bliss. Now
don't worry, Armstrong. She'll be
trying to work thirteen hours a day,
the way you do, before I'm done with
her. l haven't quite figured the way
out yet, but think l see light"
! Nothing on paper had ever looked
quite so beautiful to TelSla as the
check she had received at the end of
her first months sadly neglected
work. The envelope, addressed to
Miss Tekla Bliss, and placed on her
table, had greeted her the morning
she was so disgracefully late from
oversleeping after Mildred Hulrs
contingent party. For three days aft
erward Tekla had experienced, at
breakfast-time, something surprising
ly like sense of duty. 1t hurried her
to the office and kept her there until
closing time. But the glamour Of the
check and the unprecedented sense OF
duty fiickered out together by the aft.
ernoon of the fourth day, when Tekla
succumbed, at half-past two, to temp
tation in the form of naphtha-launch
picnic.
Mr.. Armstrong noticed that his
: partner frequently paused in his work
to lean back and regard Tekla with
puzzled, almost remorseful eyes
Sometimes. while SO engaged, he serb
bled something in a little book that
he carried in his waistcoat pocket
Toward the end of the month the puz
zled expression departed. but the sor'