Montgomery County sentinel. [volume] (Rockville, Md.) 1855-1974, 1933-09-21
VIKING,
WASN'T IT? :
g
By Charlotte Doyle
@. by Mcclure Newspaper Syndicate.
WNU Service


A thin winter sun climbed higher
and higher up the wide windows.
Marley and Philbricks' New York of.
hces were limbering up for the day.
Shirley York, stenographer, almost
stealthily adjusted herself at her desk.
Shirley's one wish, this morning, was
not to be noticed.
She wanted to be inconspicuous.
She longed for dark gray cloud
that would hide her from the rest Of
the world.
II anybody spoke to her, she thought,
she would bite or scream. She was
tired, she was irritable, and she
knew 1t.
Usually Shirley was neither incon-
spicuous nor irritable. She was, on
the other hand, quiet vivid young
woman, with eyes sparkling brown.
the color of trout brook dancing
along a clear brown bed in the sun;
hair, soft and waving, the color of
oak leaves in winter; skin. creamy and
rather thick. with a warm, soft flush
on the cheeks.
Shirley dressed becomingly, had
lovely body, and voice like music.
Her disposition was good. And she
was never tired. She could work all
day and dance all night, after the man.
ner Of modern youth, with no sign OF
fatigue.
The cause of Shirley's grouchiness
and wish for oblivion? Her best bet
in the way of a boy friend-outside
the Office, that is; of course there was
always Peter Peterson. the big blond
bookkeeper, but he didn't count
Shirley's best bet, with whom she had
gone to party the night before, had
bored her terribly. Shirley was through
with him. For the moment. life held
NO hopeful prospect. She just want
ed to be left alone in her cold, gray
world.
The morning sun, creeping upward.
quite suddenly shot ray in Shirley's
eyes.
Looking up, her glance fell on the
roughly matched head of Peter bob
bling over his work-like a scraggly
haystack, she thcught-through the
glass-topped partitions between his de-
partment and hers.
She sighed
Too bad he didn't count.
He was so nice. IA
But he didn't.
He was just like that scraggly, hay
stack hair-sort of awkward and
homely.
Shirley sighed again and tried to be
inconspicuous.
Sam, the Office boy, caught sight of
her and came to her desk.
"Hey, Miss York." he said in
kissing whisper, you're to take the
telephone board for the day. And
hustle. The boss is on a tear"
'Tm to do what?" asked Shirley
aghast.
Take the board? This morning? L
won't. You can just tell him so. He's
Where's Miss Simpson,"
"Phoned she had a cold ans goin'
to stay home"
swell, of all the cast-iron nerve!
Me take the board? Why, hardly
know how to work the darned thing.
T."
Jaw, come on" urged Sam. "Get
busy, will you? Don't crouch. You
gotta do 1t anyhow. It's buzzing now,
and it's probably his"
Shirley hurried from her desk to the
switchboard, slipped into the chair,
adjusted the ear-pieces and quickly,
though not very deftly, made certain
adjustments Of plugs and buttons that
quieted the buzz.
Sam was right; II was "his."
The day was on in earnest. now.
Shirley managed her substitute Job
well enough, but with great deal
more strain to herself than If she had
been more familiar with the work.
By twelve o'clock she was in a fine
state of nerves and irritability.
When Sam passed her desk with an
assorted armful Of Office supplies she
snapped at him so savagely that he
dropped half of them.
"Oh, I'm sorry, SAM" she said, as
he kneeled to pick up erasers and
paper clips, blotting paper and pen
ellis. "But P. BIS been on a rampage
all morning-Wait minute, he's
buzzing again. Yes, Mr.. Boyd. Yes
yes, the man said they'd surely be
here by three. Well"
Shirley slumped in her seat. "Wen.
what do you know about that? Had
me telephone for two seats for Satur
day matinee for Bird in the Bush to
be here by a Western Union messen
ger by three, and now he swears he
said they must be here by one. sup
pose he wants to take them to his
girl friend when he has lunch with
her. I'll have to go get them. Here
Sam, take the board. I'm going TO,
those tickets. hope. the board ana
the whole place blows up while Tn
gone. hope there's an earthquake"
Her voice died away as she went
out of the office. pulling on hat an,
coat as she went.
She was back, forty minutes later
flushed and flurried. but with the two
tickets, orchestra seats. for tomorrow's
matinee OF BIRD in the Bush" in her
handhay The tickets had set hpr hocl,