The star. (Reynoldsville, Pa.) 1892-1946, 1908-09-16

l
"It's good place. just the same,
said Rose.
| Whenever l want to be sure of get
| ting linen that is linen, wool that is
wool, or coffee that is coffee, | always
come here. There are lots of more
snowy places, but you can depend on
| Gray's."
| The black walnut Office was certain
ly guiltless of modern Improvements.
A big cupboard held piles of whole
sale catalogues, trade journals, extra
stationery, samples of dry-goods and
staple groceries. There were shabby
books and pasteboard boxes on top of
the big iron safe. A large unframed
portrait of tattered but still feroc
ious tiger hung above the desk.
Ready" said Adelaide, ito eat me
if | make mistakes in these dingy Old
books. But just wait till my hands
in. There'll be some housecleaning
round here, Mr.. Tiger, and away you'll
go, first thing"
But the books, kept according to
Mr.. Gray's old fashioned ideas, oc-
cupied so much of Adelaide's time
that for FIVE weeks the tiger remain
ed unmolested.
During February, when trade was
always dull, it was Mr.. Grays habit
to go East to select his spring stock.
Then Adelaide was left alone with
the tiger in the caSe-like office. The
day after Mr.. Gray's departure came
the winters most severe snap. For
five days the thermometer registered
from ten to twenty below zero.
Horses and pedestrians hurried
along in clouds of white steam. The
closely packed snow creaked noisily
underfoot. Windows were thick with
frost. Telephone wires hummed and
whistled with the intense cold. The
shopping district was deserted.
In Gray & Company's the idle
clerks huddled about the two huge
base-burning stoves that had warmed
the building in the first Thomas
Gray's time. Adelaide, however, was
-tAllNlNhllg Nallls olt olbOu Oh hNs
stool, reaching for the tacks that up
held the tiger.
What in the world are you doing?"
asked Julie La Tour, who served al!
French-speaking customers.
Cleaning house." replied Adelaide,
dropping the time-worn tiger ginger
ly to the floor. Don't you think we
need it? Bring me a roll of paper.
Mr. Anderson I'm going to straighten
this cupboard"
My exclaimed the Swedish clerk.
admiringly, but you're the smart one!
I've been here nine years, and | guess
nobody but Mr.. Gray has touched
those shelves in all that time"
Bring me big box, somebody"
said Adelaide, poking dusty cata-
logues off the cupboard with Mr..
Gray's umbrella. 81 don't quite dare
to burn this trash, but there's no use
having it here
"Mr. Gray" warned Julie, 'is fussy
about having things changed. I've
told him 1t would be handler TO have
the spool cases where the button
shelves are; but no, he says it's al
ways been just so-and that settles
it,
But this" said Adelaide, "is my
corner, and I'm going to have it just
as fine as l can. I've sent for a cata-
logue of Office furniture, and I'm going
to persuade Mr.. Gray to fix this place
up
you don't know him." demurred
johnson, the old shoe clerk. This
store is just about all the home and
family he owns; and he doesn't take
kindly to changes. When he can't
get the same old brand of sheeting,
the same make of lamp chimneys, or
the same old cut of overshoes, he's
terribly put out. I'd go easy with that
desk, Miss Adelaide"
The Office certainly looked neater
when Adelaide finally tucked her dust
cloth into the roaring stove. 1t look
ed different, also. A calendar had re-
placed the tattered tiger. An arti
fetal palm waved its too green leaves
above the safe. A damaged curtain,
taken from the stock, hung before
the cupboard. The desk, turned cor
nerwise, was bare except for few
new pencils, Adelaide's fountain pen,
a new scarlet enholder-tEoughtf htful-
ly provided by Adelaide for Mr.. Gray's
personal use-and new bottle of ink
Even the pigeonholes wore Sunday /
air of unprecedented neatness. The
enterprising young woman eyed it all
with complacency.
But Mr.. Gray did not. He reach
ed town after closing time, three
nights later, let himself in with his
own private key, and went straight
to the old-fashioned Office to write
letter. No one knows exactly what
happened during the first five min
utes; but he spent the next thirty
five in a frantic search for his own
battered penholder, twenty-five more
hunting for his own particular kind
of ink, another fifteen in digging up
the stack of blue-lined paper that no