Belington progressive. [volume] (Belington, W. Va.) 1912-1927, 1914-12-17


A. Buck Featherloom Petticoat com.
pany, New York. 1t had started with
q six-weeks' illness endured in the dis.
comfort Of stuffy little hotel bed
room at Glen Rock, MINI. By August
she was back in New York, attending
to out-of-town buyers.
Those friendly middle western per-
sons showed dismay at her pale, hol-
low-eyed appearance. They spoke to
her of olive oil taken thrice a day, of
mountain air, of cold baths, and, above
all, of the advisabinty ofsleaving the
road and taking an inside position. At
that Emma McChesney always showed
signs of unmistakable irritation
In September her son, Jock McChes-
ney, just turned eighteen, went blithe-
ly off to college, disguised as mil
lionaire's son in blue Norfolk, silk
hose, fiat-heeled shoes, correctly
mounted walrus bag, and next-week' S
style in fall hats. AS the train glided
out of the great shed Emma McChes-
.ney had wav.sl her handkerchief, smil-
ing like fury and seeing nothing but
ain indistiDct blur as the observation
platform slipped around the curve.
In October it was plain that spring
skirts, instead Of being fun as pre-
dicted, were as scant and plaitless as
ever. That spelled gloom for the pet
ticoat business. 1t was necessary to
sell three of the present absurd style
to make the profit that had come from
the sale of one skirt five years before.
The last week in November, tragedy
staiked upon the scene in the death at
Marienbad of old T. A. Buck, Mrs. Nc
Chesney's stanch friend and beloved
employer.
They had understood each other,
those two, from the time that Emma
McChesney, divorced, penniless, refus-
Tag support from the man she had
married eight years before, had found
work in the Office of the T. A. Buck
Featherloom Petticoat company
Old Buck had watched her rise from
stenographer to head stenographer,
from head stenographer to inside
saleswoman, from that to minor road
territory, and finally to the position of
travelingl representative through the
coveted middle western territory.
Old t. A. Buck, gruff, grim, direct,
,ar-seeing, kindly, shrewd-he had
known Emma McChesney for what she
was worth. Once, when she had been
disclosing to him a clever business
scheme which might be turned into
good advertising material, old Buck
had slapped his knee with one broad,
thick palm and had said:
Emma McChesney, you ought to
have been man. With that head on
l mans shoulders you could put us out
Of business
Il could do it anyway" Mrs. McChes-
ney had retorted
Old Buck had regarded her mo-
ment over his tortoise-shell trimmed
glasses. Then, Il believe you could"
he had said quietly and thoughtfully.
That brings her up to December. To
some few millions of people De
c-e-m-b-e-r spells Christmas. But to
Emma McChesney it spelled the dread
ed spring trip, 1t spelled trains stalled
in snowdrifts baggage delayed, cold
hotel bedrooms, harassed, irritable
buyers.
ming of December 9th when Mrs. EN-
ma McChesney swung off the train at
Columbus, O.. five hours late.
Columbus. Ohio, was Featherloom
town. Emma McChesney had fond
ness for it, with its half rustic, half
metropolitan air. Sometimes she
iikened it to a couAtry girl in velvet
gown, and sometimes to city girl in
white muslin and blue sash. Singer
& French always had Featherloom
window twice year.
The hotel lobby wore strangely de-
serted look. December is a slack
month for actors and travelling men.
Mrs. McChesney registered automatic
ally, received mail exchanged
greetings vi affable clerk
Send M trunks up to my sample
Nm as soon as they get in. Three of
IL 1.-TWO sample-trunks and my per-
kpSy1l trunk. And want to see por-
lr about putting up some extra tables.
You see, I'm two days late now. / ex-
pect two buyers tomorrow morning"
Send 'em right up, Mrs. McChes-
ney," the clerk assured her. "Jo1l at
tend to those tables. Too bad about
old Buck. How's the skirt business?''
Skirts? There is no such thing"
corrected Emma McChesney, gently. |
HSausage-casings business, you mean"
Guess you're right, at that. By the
way, how's that handsome youngster
of yours? He's not travelling with you
this trip"
There came wonderful glow into |
Emma McChesneys tired face.
Jocks at college Coming ho1ne for |
the holidays We're going to have a
dizzy week in New York I'm wild to |
see if those three months of college |
have done anything to him, bless his
heart! Oh, kind sir, forgive moth