The Emmett index. [volume] (Emmett, Idaho) 1893-1925, 1908-09-24
A MAN IN THE MAKING.


The story Of Skaggles-as 1t Is toll
by a writer In the Associated Sunda.
Magazlnes-is very simple. but 1t goe.
straight to that spot in the heart tina
is always waiting to respond to TIN
brave aud sweet things of life. Skaggle'
was not his name. Some M gave hin
that title the third day after he tool
the job. 1t was finally curtailed tc
"Skag." When he first came to the
Office he fitted like a mouse's tall in a
well but he had an old look-the look
Of a burden beyond his years. lie was
wan and pale, and his nose was red
every time he came In from the wealth
er. His shoes and stockings were ven
tllated beyond endurance to anybody
except a boy.
But Skag was a faithful worker-at
first. Bright and early he swept the
Office AID busted the desks-that is,
used the duster-and by eight o'clock
he was over In his corner, his hair plas-
tered back aud his face washed, save
for the hlgh-water mark about his neck.
But by degrees Skag's enthusiasm
over his new position langulshed. The
clerks complained of %unemptled waste
baskets and dusty desks. 1t was also
noticed that Skag's clothes were daily
growing more shabby, his hair longer,
his shoes more run over, and it was
evident that his mind was not on his
work.
A reprimand from the boss had the
desired effect. He became more pune
tual, took more interest in his work,
seemed CHEEKY, and sometimes whistled
a little. But Skag's work was spas
modic. 1t was not long before he was
ms bad as ever. His work Jagged, he
was slow about getting round mornings,
and his overwhelmingly, at least
was of the wooden Indian variety. The
browning and final test of endurance
on the part of the Office force came
when he went to sleep in his chair.
"Skag, come here!'
1t was the boss. Skag shufled into
the managers private Office, and sat on
the edge Of a chair, nervous and
adgety. The boss did not speak for a
mlnute-his way Of lmpressing a cul-
prlt.
"Skag, this thing has gone far
enough! You are not paying attention
to your work. Look at the dust on my
desk-lt's frightful. This is Monday.
III give you just one week. Saturday
winds you up unless you COM out of
that trance. That's all"
Skag shifted and shuflled back to his
chair, where he tugged at the seam on
his trousers and gazed yacantly out of
the window.
The next morning the office fairly
gllstened, and all through the week
his work improved. The stenographer
even discarded her work sleeves, her
desk was so clean.
But no one noticed that Skag's face
growing thinner and his eyelids
more dropping.
Saturday night, after five o'clock,
Skag stayed and cleaned up the office,
He would be that much ahead when
Monday came.
Monday morning. the Office was as
clean as a Dutch kitchen, but there was
no Skag. Noon arrived, and still no
Skag, at which the boss waXed wrathy.
"Jones, go up to the kids house and
zee what the trouble is. Tell him if he
amt get here by two o'clock, he needn't
ut ALL"
When Jones returned he went into
he managers private Office AID closed
he door. Later he came out with a
ong sheet of paper in his hand. The
loss had headed the list with twenty
i've dollars.
what brought it on?" asked the
tenographer.
Exposure, and not enough to keep
ody and soul together. The kids been
lifting up nights with her for a month.
funerals Wednesday"
Skag is stlll working. He wears a
suit, and the high-water mark
ound his neck has disappeared. And
hey do not call him Skaggles now.
hey call him by his right name.