The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1919-03-28

culfar hours, out rOllGr Dy tine CLOCK.
She entered the Office Of the company
at half-past eight, punched her num-
Der on the time register, and set to
work addressing large envelopes. She
wrote and wrote and wrote till twelve I;
at one she took up her pen again, and
| the afternoon went In an endless re-
iteration Of dip and write, till FIVE
thirty. Then she joined the home-go-
ing panic and took the crowded SUBJ
way to Columbus circle.
She plodded the treadmill, till at
the end of the sixth day, her forty
eighth hour of transcribing names and
addresses from the lists to the wrap
pers, she carried off a cash reward Of
eight dollars. This was not clear gain.
Her street car fares had totaled sixty
cents, her lunches dollar and half |;
she had worn her costumes at the
sleeves and damaged them with few
ink spots, and her shoes were takir 6
on shabby nap.
1t was not encouraging.
| At Daphnes left elbow was a large.
fat girl whose pen rolled Off large.
fat letters. She talked all the time
about nothing Of Importance. laughed
and fidgeted and asked questions that
would have been impertinent If they
had come from anything but q large,
fat head.
Her name was Maria Pribik. She
was a Bohemian of the second genera
ton; but she was dyed in the wool
with New Yorkishness. She was an
incessant optimist and kept remind
ing everybody to- ''cheer up, COILS, the
woisst might be woisser yet"
Daphne's luck did not last long. The
receivers found that the percentage Of
inquiries following upon the advertis-
ing and circularizing campaigns was
hardly paying the postage. People
were either too poor to buy books or
too busy with the molten history pour
ing from the caldrohs Of Europe. Yes
terday's paper was ancient history
enough.
The receivers closed down the
business abruptly on Saturday and
] instructed the manager to announce
to his flock that there would be no
more work at present. Daphne's heart
stopped. Here she was again, learn
| ing again the dreadful significance Of
tout of a job"-what the theatrical
people called "at liberty"
Miss Pribik looked at Daphne and
noted her gloom. "Say, kid, listen
here. Whyn't choo come with me? I
can land you job at the Lar de
Lucks. Guy name Of Goist is the boss
and he'll always gimme job or any
lady friend. He's kind of rough, but
what's the diff? His money buys just
as much as anybody's. We better beat
it over there ahead this bunch"
| Daphne murmured her hasty thanks
and they left at once. Miss Pribik led
the way to huge building full Of
"Pants Makers" "Nightshirt Makers"
'Waist Makers" and publishers of cal
endars, favors and subscription books.
She asked for Mr.. Gerst, saw him.,
beckoned him over, and hailed him
with bravado:
swell. Mist Goist, here am. back
to the mines. This is me friend Kip.
/ want YOU should give her job-and
me, too"
Daphne faced Mr.. Gerst's inspection
without visible fiinching, though she
was uneasy within. Gerst was large,
Iflamboyant brute with eyes that
seemed less to receive light than to
send forth vision. He had an in
quisitive and stripping gaze. But
Daphne must endure it. After ran
sacking Daphne with his eyes, he
grunted: "You look pretty good to
me, kiddo. You can begin Monday"
"ThanlSs," said Daphne, humbly.
'I'm comm, too," said Miss Pribik.
GAIL right" said Gerst. tits time
you did. Well take some of that beef
off you" And he playfully pinched
her arm.
Adroitly evading his pincers, Miss
Pribik led the way out, and Daphne
trailed her outside.
Daphne loathed and feared the man
already. He stood like glowering
menace in the path ahead Of her.
Monday morning at eight Daphne
reported for work with the LArt de
Luxe Publishing society, pronounced
by it's own people (who ought to
know "Lar de Lucks.'
This firm was engaged in the Pc
culiarly Anglo-Saxon business Of graz
ing the censorship as closely as pos
sible. 1t printed everything that it
dared to print under the whimsically
Puritanic eye of the law. Toward
the authorities it turned the white
side of a banner Of culture claiming
to put in the hands of the people the
noblest works of foreign genius and
defying any but an impure mind to
find impurity in its classic wares. The
other side of the banner was purple
and informed the customers by every
prurient innuendo that the books were
published in their entirety without ex-
purgation. Vice has its hypOcritical
/ oo~k ~ loss than raliOiop