The Washburn times. [volume] (Washburn, Wis.) 1896-1976, 1914-11-19
the FLOOR WALKER
gv CLARENCE L. CULLEN.
(ConYright.l


In the afternoon in the Old King Cole
fluid-refection room Of the Hotel Aston
Knicker. At the far end of the onyx
bar q young man with irresolute eyes
and the chin Of non-combatant began
to weep silently but copiously into his
highball.
The bareheaded attache of the re-
fectory, who touched the weeper upon
the shoulder within less than ten Sec
onds after the beginning of the ZACH
rymose manifestation, looked as good
az one Of those House of Splooken-
heimer clothing ads. He was tall,
rangy and sQuare-jawed.
He was the floor walker of the refec-
tory; an evolutionized bouncer. 1t
took him less than two minutes to con-
lole with the despairing one and to
guide him gently to the exit. The
weeper was not bounced; he was con-
veyed to the outer air by a diplomatist.
and went away with his misery as
suaged.
Good eye" l observed to the calm
eyed floor walker when he returned.
How did you spot that one so
promptly?"
"By keeping track of his in-dredges,"
said the floor walker. II happened to
remember that one. He's three-shot
Terry. That is to say, when he seeps
three moisties into his bilge the over
flow always begins to trickle from his
wicks. Three for him, and the joys do
bunny-trot away from him and the
Glooms start in to turkeymazurk all
over him.
''Then the saline solution begins to
dribble from his orbs, which, of course,
Is his getaway signal: for it wouldn't
do to have sad sog scattering salt
spray over the place when the bar Is
cluttered up with merry-merries, who
hate grief and who are trying the best
they can to forget even their own woes,
without reaching out for the sobsky-
music of gigs who insist upon diluting
their booze with their tears"
But you are not giving me the
arithmetical end of it," l said to the
floor walker. How can you keep
track of the number of liquid inserts
that each of them, buying rapidly, per-
mits to percolate through his frame?'
Practice, bo-practice, continued
with that Argus stuff" replied the cafe
floor walker. after l get through
with this job I'll be able to do vaude-
vile turn as lightning calculator.
How many fervent Ferdies are there
lined up there at the onyx now, would
you calculate? A hundred, say you?
Wrong again. There are hundred
and fourteen. Included in the bunch
are 10 whom I've got classified on
memory's yellow pages, Myrtle, as
dangerous.
Unsafe, that is to say, in different
ways. Some of them are liable, If
they go too far with the gimme-an-
other request, to prong out the think
that they're white hopes and stretch
out their tentacles in search of mussi-
ness. Others of the 10, il they stretch
that please-refill-the-fagon thing too
far, are likely to raise their pipes in
unseemly protest on the subjects of re-
ligion, baseball and politics, thus
throwing in fiat wheel, so to speak,
on the cathedral calm that should pre-
vail in a fluid philansterie of this pat
tern.
Two of them, If they overstep their
gurgle limit, will fall to atomiZing their
weeps until the plant will feel like it's
being sprayed by Scotch mist. N SO
on, n SO on, as Mr.. Belasco says, nerv-
ously, when he does not wish to have
you read the remainder of your play
to him on the street.
'Well, I'm the Tabulating Tommy
with those 10 unsafe boys. | know
Just how far down the damp road each
of them can go without getting his
standing lights blurred, and I'm there
with the mentally registered statistics
as to just how many intakes each of
them has up to this moment eased into
his facial orifice. Something at the top
of my dome does an inaudible click
each time any one of them creaks his
elbow in the act of sitting a perfectly
new and untried ball into his motor.
"Thus, as each one of them tricks
along to the end of his little path, all
I've got to do is the satisfaction stuff,
watt the wigwag to the barkeep, and
the one who has played his string as
far as I know, from experience, it
ought to be played, gets the sad and
sweet shake of the barkeep's bean the
next time he calls for one more, and
that is all there is to it. If the one
upon whom the box is turned resents
the shutdown he is passed along to
me, and l dish up to him whichever
article of pathological balm he seems
most in need of.
81 am not saying, get me, that any
one of the 10 dangerous ones is liable
to try to leap the barricade or scale
the citadel today. They may go days
and days before they vat up to the
point where they will feel impelled to
pull their rummiterous speciality. But
Newsies Are High Gamblers.
Do+ro1yoan Hook was walking along