Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1913-01-04
Tho Man in the Cane.


cage who gently reaches for your bank
look, takes it, hands it back and mods
politely, ever managed to find his equi-
librium is one of the many mysteries
which civilization has not unraveled
The bank clerk is distinct in species He
Eever is rumpled He is a calm and cal
culating figure. As you see him behind
his little cage, shoyelng in money or
handing it out, as the case may be. You
can never by. any stretch of the imagi-
nation draw a picture Of yourself slap
ping him on the back.
Maybe it is the immense amount of
life he sees each day-the grasping, the
generous, the brave. the cowatdly, the
good and the bad-maybe il is this that
brings abont in the bank clerk the state
of torpid repose that never changes.
There is one bank clerk in the financial
distriet-a young man, by the way, as
are most bank clerks--who recently COM
mitted the unusual indiscretion of talking
about the human side of his profession.
'Its funny" he said, ''how people
seem to imagine that because we handle
money for a living we are automatons,
without the power to discern what goes
on In front of us. I suppose they figure
that man who can handle thousands
of dollars with utter indifference must
be more or less than human. Maybe
they're right. But when they think We
don't notice them, they're wrong
He fell to musing about the business
in which he is engaged.
You wouldn't believe it," he resumed
after a time. "but nearly every woman
who banks with US has a particular
characteristic by which she could be re-
nlernbered even If she hid her face and
refused to sign her name. The indivd-
ual trait is less marked in men, possibly
because most of them are more used to
handling money.
II remember one woman who still WIS.,
It's our bank. She is little Irish wo-
man who came to us first about three
Years ago. The first day she entered
The bank building she walked over to
the cashier and spread out before him
small sum-s60 perhaps-in silver and
dollar bills.
'Orll lave this said she, If ye'iI
promise to always tell me how much Oh
have in the bank.
THE cashier agreed solemnly and soon
she became a regular visitor I was at
the receiving cage. Each week she
would come to me with her little hand
full of silver and crumpled bills--some-
times not more than two or three dollars
and never more than s10-and would hand
it to me with her book.
Now tell me how much OF have she
would say. She would wait until her
book was balanced, and then, with a
smile of happiness on her face. would
trot away with the newly deposited ac-
count added to her store. She kept this
up for more than two years. Only once
do l remember her forgetting to have
her book balanced. and that was when
she drew out money TO pay, as she told
the cashier, with tears in her eyes, fur
the funeral of me man.
Il don't know anything about her ex-
cept her idiosyncrasy with regard to her
handbook. And I'll probably never learn
anything more =
Musing on his inability to ever learn
more of the curious little woman. the
bank clerk suddenly wandered off into
speculation as to the curious bar be-
tween the bank employee and depositor.
ut is remarkable" he said that so
many people don't seem to think that we
ever recognize them. OF course. this
isn't the rule. It's rather the exception.
But there are those who seem to feel
that they need a complete Introduction
to US every time they call. There was
one old man l recall who used to visit
our bank about once a month to de-
post a check, probably an income of
some sort. We never heard of him DUR
ing the month. He would stay away and
We would get his checks as they passed
through other banks and finally came to
us. About the fifth of each month he
would come into the place, smile around
vaguely and head for the paying teller.
man he wanted to see.
He would introduce himself to the
paying teller and carefully explain his
business and the paying teller would
then indicate my window and he would
hurry over to me-, H.. aois...
Sc. of course, you, don't remember me-.
he would begin. My name is Mr. So
and-so, and I carry an account here.
my check
Il would politely murmur that re-
membered him perfectly. as certainly
ought to, for he had been calling for
years.
nut lie never peileVeQ me- After Smll-
Ing at what he termed my 'faliacous
politeness,' he would bow and warn me
not to forget him next time. Then he
would go out and come back next month
and repeat the whole thing over again.
Somebody suggested that bank clerks
attitude was not sufficiently inspiring to
convince the average depositor of his
undying affection.
That's an attitude we have 10 pre-
serve" retorted the bank clerk indig-
nantly. Suppose we met the first de-
positor who came in the morning with a
slap on the shoulder and showed dol
lar bill at him. saying Here, old scout.
this is on mep What do you think he'd
do? Why, he'd probably go through the
first window handy and run down the
street yelling for the police. You've got
to be calm in a bank"
Somebody then mildly asked IL bank
cashiers all got their hair brushed and
their clothes made at "a single establish
ment. The bank clerk blushed red
I'VE try to look neat In a bank he
said cOlalv ~ ha DO