The guardian. [volume] (Boston, Mass.) 1901-1960, 1941-03-29
Dresden Pattern
g
By GOLDIE JONES

mead OF the credit depart
ment.
Says she is from the advertising
office" replied Don Blake, assistant
to the manager.
'Oh, deliver us!" exclaimed Man
ager Martin. ''These girls from
the advertising department give me
pain in the neck-always wanting
to stretch their credit to the break
ing point. Show her in," he or
dered impatiently.
''Mr. Martini" inquired a pleas
ant voice.
Correct" replied the credit man.
ager.
Il am told that an employees
credit is limited to the amount equal
to two weeks salary" said the
pleasant voice.
Ought to be only one week."
snapped Martin.
my name is Inez Harris. work
in the advertising department for
$45 a week and want to charge a
bill for $172."
''Humph!" snapped the man.
Nothing small about your wants, is
there!"
"The things are so awfully pref
ty," impulsively exclaimed the girl.
''They always are" cynically re-
piled the man. Now, you listen to
me, young lady, and take my ad-
vice. You are a new one to this
store. My experience has been that
all young ladies who work in the ad-
vertising department see so much
beautiful merchandise that they
have their heads turned. So you
can just go back and tell Mr.. Gold
man l wouldn't let you charge that
fur coat you want to get, for l as
sumo it's a coat in the August
sale that you want to buy"
The girl smiled and said: Guess
again"
Fur scarf?" suggested the man.
Don't get silver-foX ideas just be-
cause you have to write advertise
ments about the darned things"
I'm trying to furnish my ROOM"
said the girl, eagerly. and there is
an oak table and big easy chair,
both with their prices cut in half.
Mr. Rafferty, wont hold them for me,
because he wants to make room for
the new stock"
How much?" CURLY inquired Mr..
Martin.
lone hundred and three dollars
for the two pieces" replied the girl.
Tell Rafferty, to send up the bill.
I'll OK. it," said Manager Martin.
Thanks a lot How about the
rest of the things I want?'
I've already agreed to let you
have more than your credit quota
calls for, " snapped the manager.
Il know" said the girl, nervous
ly twisting her handkerchief in her
fingers But I'll never be able to
get anything else l like so well-so
cheaply."
Nothing is cheap when you
haven't the money to pay for it,
growled Mr.. Martin.
"Mr Curtis won't hold sample
dishes, even with a deposit" pro-
tested the girl.
''Dishes!' almost roared the man.
"You want to charge $50 worth of
dishes! l never heard anything
like that before"
They have roses painted on them
little wudgy punches that look
just like those l remember seeing
when l went to visit my grandmoth-
er in Westerly"
Some of the dishes down in "a
are darned nice looking" boldly
commented Don Blake.
BLAKE" - grudgingly - 'this is
Miss Harris from the advertising;
Miss Harris, my assistant, Mr..
Blake"
Give run across Miss Harris sew
eral times since she came to the
Emporium" cheerfully announced
Don. I'm awfully glad at last to
know her name"
"Humph!" snorted Martin, who
had thought his young assistant
immune to heart attacks. And Don
Blake had been Indifferent to the
pleasure-crazy young women he
knew cared nothing about a home
save as a parking place for their ex-
ira clothes.
"Humph!" repeated Mr.. Martin,
his dark eyes twinkling. Suppose
you take run down to section "a
and see if you think Miss Harris has
made a sensible selection. I'll leave
it to you to OK. the bill"
well" said Don Blake, a few
moments later, "they are just the
sort of dishes l always thought I'd
like to have if l had home of
my own.
"If OK. your bill don't you think
you owe me an invitation to come
up and eat a home-cooked meal off
the new dishes?"
what kind of pie do you like
best?" inquired the girl. "I'll bake
it for you next Sunday"
Sunk" groaned Manager Mar
tin as his usually alert assistant re-
turned dreamily to his desk.