Albuquerque morning journal. [volume] (Albuquerque, N.M.) 1903-1926, 1921-06-21
WORTH WHILE.

WOhIh NhILE'
The following from Harry Sloan
secretary of the Kansas-Mis-
souri, Wholesale Grocery asso-
citation, is taken from the weekly
letter of L. B, Putney, Inc. All
who sell things will be interested.
Editorial note:
''Drill, Ye Terriers, Drill"
The Old Timer said: II ran
across a quotation the other day
which went like this; I frighten
people by my glum face and !
took a look in the glass and made
up my mind the old boy who said
it was more than half right 30 far
as / was concerned. For almost a
year l had been sick. It's an cpl
demic sweeping the country worse
than the flu ever was but no one
seems to know just what it is.
There's q thousand remedies pro-
posed by various doctors of econo-
mics, professors, research sharks,
law members, occasional writers
and perpetual penmen, and / have
received barrels of their medicine
which did me little good, perhaps
DGGduSS L Ollly llOlO tb Quol
der strain. My symptoms seemed
to be a condition Of nervous debil-
ity and an impairment in the func-
tons of the spine. l was gloomy,
detected, melancholy, and suffered
at times from a morbid drowsineSs
almost approaching deep lethargy.
| Plunged into one of those spells,
sat in my old cobwebby office the
other day nursing my moody re-
Elections and feeling sorry for my
self. Every blamed thing l had
read for six months or mole had
dinged into me how sick I was and
how sick my business was, and it
made me realize, too, what an old
fogy l really was. l had heard so
much of sales, and gross profits,
Of salaries and expenses, OF per-
centages and turnovers, of facts
and figures, until l knew l had q
bad case of fidgcts and was afraid
to try to sell my next door neigh
Dor a side of bacon for fear might
violate some of the laws of mod
ern business ethics. I'm jaun-
diced old cuss, l know, and yet, as
l sat in my ancient chair, whiting
unconsciously at one Of the arms,
enjoying the old familiar atmos-
phere, redolent of the fragrance of
our sugar pile (too big, by half),
inhaling deep dradghts Of its life
giving aroma, 1 could still hear the
familiar bu2zing of the flies and
the lazy humming Of the bees who
| in mournful melody fed to reple-
IT. spta al ~
the popping of our canned goods
and finally heard the weevils as
they hungrily bored into our
cereals. l was aroused occasionally
by the sharp crack of a bottle of
catsup and started a trifle when
can of syrup blew I'm in the offtnS.
I frowned perhaps rs l listened 10
our pet rats scampering over the
rafters and breathed muttercd
curse as | heard the markets crUp
with a dull and sickening thud. L
shifted with upturned nose "hcn
some swe,led and pu.rid cheese re-
fused longer to stand the strain
and released its long pent up gas,
and l listened dream Iy to the drip,
drip of The melting chocolate and
candy on the shelf above the door
I could feebly hear the succulent
Goldfish as II flushed pink and fin
ally turning over, gave up the
ghost awaiting Gabriers mighty
blast calling it to the dump. / not
ed hastily the efforts of the 1880
prunes to shrink to 5000 and
could family feel the box grow
lighter in weight. I turned inertly
from the sour looks of the jeliics
and the jams and sighed softly in
the hope that our kraut would at
least keep sweet. I welcomed the
musical squealirg of the festlVe
mouse as he diligently hunted his
lair in the rice, until at last came