Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1913-05-04

If you owned all these As 900 Empress Waists.
and put fresh one every day, you'd have
waist perfection for a lifetime; yet never live
to wear them all, for they'd last 1913 years.
Twenty stacks high as City Hall Tower.
A Line of Waists Extending across New
Jersey.
An Excursion Filling $50 Passenger Cars.
She read them all half -enviously "Great!
Don't | wish I'd done these?" She drew
over fresh mound of copy paper and
newly sharpened pencil.
@If you read me off the numbers on the
cuts, I'll be marking the descriptions, sug
gested Miss Peake.
hail, already embarked on the rising flood of
three hundred and fifty inspired words.
HANDSOMEST waist page you ever gave
! US, Miss Harcourt," 'phoned the Gen
eral Manager at eleven next morning
Miss Harcourt, having reached the St.
James at seven-thirty the previous evening,
wore her gayest top-o'- the-morning smile.
Il I'm so glad. 1t wouldn't have been only"
"If it was short call, that makes it all the
more commendable. We particularly like
your original arrangement of the cuts. |
congratulate YOU and already he had
clicked "goodby.'
The Advertising Manager hung up, vague
praise when YOU don't deserve it?"
But, take it all in all, is there any job on
earth quite SO varied, SO fascinating, SO never
waning in interest, SO honeyed in rewards.
as that of Advertising Manager!
THERE were five hundred styles of En-
press waists to be placed on their tables
before eight fifteen Monday A. M.,-Lace-
trimmed Lingeries down that side; en-
broidered Linens under the arch; goodly
relays of extra thirty-sixes waiting in the
third alcove; ten extra salesgirls borrowed
from Furs, size plainly marked;
nothing forgotten. No, it could hardly be
better.
seven thirty, INDUCED in one critical last
glance at each neatly placed table before
finally approving her handiwork. A rose,
softer, more delicate, than the Poudre de
Paris, bloomed in her cheeks. Yes, it was
Her sale-in all but name-and just three
months today since her floor entrance!
Her eyes were glowing happily, perhaps
with Dreams of the Big Raise, SO near a GER
tainty now, perhaps with other Dreams, as
she waved her hand gaily to the Advertising
Manager making her rounds with notebook
and pencil. Yes, she had waited all these
weeks; waited, held back by shrinking
pI1Qe CIdL WOULD ask no ldVOIS. DuI lOudy.
Was there anyone from the past-even He
she couldn't look in the face Today-Day
of Days-the Day she'd Made Good?
A tug at her sleeve. 1t was Milly, the
freckled errand girl "Mither 'Igby thays
as 'ow you re to thee i'm is offith right away,
Miss Peake."
Oh. Words of Destiny! Minus the lisp,
just the words of her dreams!
With feet that trod on air Miss Peake
pressed her way through the crowd-Her
crowd and joined the jam in the elevator,
the diamond locket at her throat rising and
falling in happy tumult as she rehearsed the
exact words. Eighteen years is long time,
and Pinching Poverty grim destroyer.
Would he find her changed changed?
She would have trailed past the waiting
group in the outer Office, but the snub-nosed
Boy inside the rail waved her to seat.
"Mr. Highly says as you're to wait a min
ute, Miss Peake. Mr.. Lindauer is inside"
7 INDAUER had received his summons
- with a start of flustered dismay. There
were certain little transactions not on the
books perfectly legitimate but of delicate
nature. Could it be-but no. The Chief
only wished to congratulate him, naturally.
on having put through with signal ability a
Merchandise movement of such breadth and
moment as this Sale Any other reason for
the summons one chance in five thou