Shepherdstown register. [volume] (Shepherdstown, Va. [W. Va.]) 1849-1955, 1906-07-26
A "FREEZE-OUT." &"

He was a kindly-looking, oldish
man, with soft eyes and a soft brown
beard that had streaks of gray in it.
You would hardly think that any one
could have seen him on this icy day,
shivering for want Of warm over.
coat and a hot breakfast, wretched
old tippet of knitted wool about bis
neck, and his blue wrists sticking out
of his pockets, without a touch ol
pity.
Ifhe had been holding his battered
hat in his hand and asking aims he
would have Jared better, but he was
not down to that level. He was look
ing for job; no special sort of work
evidently he had not been in the
way of looking to his hands for liv-
ing-just some vague sort Of work,
which he family hoped might be of
use to somebody.
There were several thousand men in
the city that winter looking for the
same thing, for any JOB that would
pay them dollar and quarter for
a days work and as good proper
ton Of them were brawny fellows, who
could lift heavy weights and strike
hard blows, there was evidently but
small chance for this pinched little
man with gray in his hair and beard.
Yet he kept on, from one denial to
another, not 30 much because there
was any hope left in hira as because
the action had become q mechanical
one. Even despair beeomes dull in
time. There was no apparent posi-.
bility for work, for example, at Nc
Nichol g. Sons Foundry and Machine
Shop; he was neither a moulder nor
a machinist, yet it was the next place
along the street. and he turned in.
1t was a small plant one disposed
to be critical might have called it a
one-horse afair-but it's air of snug
ness, Of complete sulf.suficiency was
more forbidding than the biggest
plant of the most heartless industrial
trust. The elderly man paused with
his hand on the latch to the Office
door, halfminded not to open it. But
it was warm in there, no doubt, as it
might take two or three minutes to
get rid Of him. He opened the door
and slipped unobtrusively inside.
1t was warm, but that was the only
feature Of comfort the Office possessed.
The lights Of glass in the windows
were small and dusty, the furniture
and fittings were the most primitive
description, and the noise of machine
ry from the floor above and from the
other side of the wooden partition was
deafening. There was no ostentatious
veneer about McNichol & Sons.
At an old.fashion desk in the light
est and most remote corner sat pow
ertul built man in his shirt.sleeves, a
man with small, twinkling eyes and
sandy beard. Quietly as the door had
opened he had seen it, and at glance
had taken the newcomers measure.
"What do you want ?" he called.
The applicants voice would never
have carried 30 far above the din.
He made his way to the side Of his
questioner's desk.
II want employment" he said, sim
ply.
"a position or a job2" McNichol
demanded. He had not looked up at
the others approoch. His eyes and
a good half of his attention seemed en-
gagged with some letters on his desk.
"Any sort of work; anythingr
Anything means nothing" the
proprietor com mented, trenchantly.
"H aven't you found that out yet !?
What's your name ?"
"White. Alexander A. White.
There is nothing for you in the
Office. Are you big, strong man
who could be worth dollar day az
a laborer7"
"I'm stronger than | look.
McNiohol's mouth twitched side
u;ao in his heard "Well. we'll see