The Southern herald., 1915-01-08
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~SSOSSSS CopyrRht by Frederic A.
By EDNA FERBER
n AM sspt.J c,I. N.,.~ % a..
Copyright BY Fred

the column of figures under the head
ing known as LOSS" are so unevenly
balanced that Che wrong side Of the
leIser says, then to the listening
stockholders there comes the painful
thought that at the next regular meet
ing it is perilously possible that the
reading may come under the heads
of assets and liabilities.
There had been meeting In the
Offices of the T. A. Buck Featherloom
Petticoat company, New York. The
quarterly report had had startlingly
lop-sided sound. After it was over
Mrs Emma McChesney, secretary OF
the company, followed T A. Buck, its
president, into the big, bright show
room. T. A. Bucks hands were thrust
deep into his pockets.
He turned to face Emma McChes-
ney.
WELL" he said, bitterly, 1T hasn't
taken US long, has 1t? Fathers been
dead a little over year. In that
time we've just about run this great
concern. the pride of his life, into the
ground"
Mrs. Emma McChesney, calm, cool
unrufled scrutinized the harassed
man before her for long minute.
What rotten football material you
would have made, wouldn't you?" she
observed.
"Oh, | don't know answered 7. A
Buck, through his teeth. Il can stand
as stiff scrimmage as the next one
But this isn't a game You take things
teo lightly. You're a woman. l dom
think you know what this means"
Maybe | don't take myself serious
ly. I'd have been dead ten years agt
If / had. But l do take my job seri
ously. Don't forget that for minute
You talk the way man always talk
when his pride is hurt."
pride! 1t isn't that"
"Oh, yes, it is. didn't sell T. A
Bucks featherloom petticoats on tn
road for almost ten years withou
learning a little something about mel
and business. When your father died
and learned that he had shown hi
appreciation of my work and loyalt
by making me secretary Of this grea
company, | didn't think of it as
legacy-a stroke Of good fortune"
MOT"
mo, Tc me 1t was sacred trust
something to be guarded, nursed, che
ished. And now you say we've ru
this concern into the ground. Do yo
honestly think that?"
T. A. shrugged impotent shoulder
Figures don't lie" He plunged int
another fathom Of gloom. "Anothe
year like this and we're done for"
Emma McChesney came over an
put one firm hand on T. A. Buck
dropping shoulder, 1t was stranf
little act for a woman-the sort
thing a man does when he would heal
en- another man.
wake up!" she said, lightly. "Wal
up, and listen to the brides sin
There isn't going to be another ye
like this. Not If the planning, al
scheming, and brain-racking that I
been doing for the last two or thr
months mean anything"
T. A. Buck seated himself as q
who is weary, body and mind
Got another new one?'
Emma McChesney regarded hin
moment thoughtfully. Then S
stepped to the tall show case, push
back the sliding glass door, and poi
ed to the rows of brilliant-hued pc
coats that hung close-packed within
Look at 'em!" she commanded, {
gust in her voice Look at 'em!'
T A. Buck raised heavy, lack-lus
eyes and looked. What he saw
not seem to interest him. Emma
Chesney drew from the rack 81
Of kings blue satin messaline
held it at arms length.
"And they call that thing a pc
coat Why, fifteen years ago the
terial in this skirt wouldn't have m
even a fair-sized sleeve"
T. A. Buck regarded the petite
moodily. Il don't see how they
around in the darned things.
estIy don't see how they wear EN-
That's just it. They don't W
'em. There you have che root Of
whole trouble"
"Oh, nonsense!" disputed T.
"They certainly wear something's
sort of an
q tell you they don't. Here.
en-. Three years ago our taffeta sl
ran from thirty-slx to thirty-e
yards to the dozen. We paid I
ninety cents to one dollar and
cents a yard. Now our skirts run
twenty-five to twenty-eight yards
the dozen The silk costs US from
to sixty cents yard. Silk skirts
to be a luxury. Now they're not I
a necessity"
We'll, what's the answer?
been pondering some petticoat /
lens myself. | know we've got to
three skirts today to make the p
that we used to make on one t
years ago"