Evening star., 1943-03-25
INSTALLMENT III.

ancient green eyeshade and began
glanclng through sheaf of copy.
Always complaining about some
thing" he sighed. Il take you off
the streets again and again. I give
you decent and respected job, I
keep you at my elbow so that you
won't be pecked at by the boys in
the composing room. And yet you
are always complaining. If you are
going through a slack part of the
day and are at loss for something
to do. perhaps I can be of help"
IT you are implying" I said,
that I am making conversation
because I have nothing else to take
up my time. let me clear that up.
Let me remind you that OF the three
hundred or so Jobs in this news
paper at least hundred are mine.
I was not cut out for this tortured
life I lead"
please shut UP, he said Please
shut up and get back to work"
Surely" l said, vistfully, fate
meant something for me better
than pouring my life's blood into a
rotary press for thankless task
master"
"Hargrove." he said, lighting a
cigarette, "it beats the hell out of
me what fate did mean for you. Dr.
Garinger, down at the high school.
said years ago that it didn't write
formal education in on your budget.
Belmont Abbey found out that you
weren't destined to be worth hoot
as public relations man for a
Benedictine college. The drug store
| chain in Washington said you had
neither talent nor the temperament
/ for soda jerking. And YOU certainly
flzzled as theater usher. Maybe
fate don't know you"
May I have cigarette?" I asked.
reaching before he could protect
them. Day after day work my
fingers to the shoulder blades for
neither thanks nor living wage. I
am the feature editor of a progress
sive. growing newspaper. What
makes it that? My hearts blood
makes 1t that"
Il would fire you tomorrow" he
! sighed. ii any one else could pos
sibly straighten out the chaos you
have brought to this office. In the
most underpaid brotherhood in the
world, you are the most overpaid,
two-headed brother"
A Lot of Duties.
II am the most underpaid six
armed silva" I snorted. Look at
mel I am the feature editor. the
obituary editor, the woman's page
editor, the hospital editor, the re-
write man, the assistant to the city
editor. the commissar for paste and
copy paper and Coca-Colas, the GUS
todian of oral memoranda, the
public's whipping boy, the trans
lator and copyist Of open forum let
ters, the castigator of the composing
room staff, the guest artist for ailing
columnists, the tourist guide for
visiting school children, the press
! representative at barbecue suppers
of the United Brotherhood of
Plumbers and Steamftters, the butt
of the Office jokes"
Period" said Mr.. Grifith. New
paragraph"
Il lead terrible, turbulent life"
walled. Il am the man forgotten
by Destiny"
"If you will get your elbows of
my desk" he said, "the boy can
put the mail on it
What you need" he continued,
sorting through a batch of letters,
"is tour of military service The
| Army would make a man of you.
was in the Army in the last war
A top sergeant at l8. The Army did
wonders for me-"
| That's not much OF sales argu-
ment," I told him.
Then again" he said, ''if we must
take up my whole busy day weeping
over your sorrows, let's not burden
the Army when it has a helluva job
already. Concerning the whole mat
ter, would suggest that you apply
yourself to making up the woman's
page right now, lest you come down
tomorrow morning and find some
one else sitting in your chair. Leave
my sight"
There's not a letter there from
New York" asked, with my name
written on 1t in a delightfully."- H.
legible, feminine and slightly red
headed hand?"
rs there ever?" he snorted. Let's
see" and he went through the
stack
We'll my lad" he said with faint
glee, lat last we're getting some
where. We know what fate means
for you. You can be happy now.
A Long, White Envelope.
He handed me long, white inno-
cent-looking envelope, addressed to
me. The return address read, Sc
lective Service -Mecklenburg
County Board Number Three"
The President of the United
States to Marion Hargrove, greet
ing
The boy across the table in the
Piedmont Grill lifted both hands
and clapped his brow three times.
He looked at the clock, then back
at his breakfast, then back at the
clock.
"Oy, web ist mir" he moaned
! Two years I've been eating here
every morning, For two years yet.
So the day the Army is taking me
to Fort Bragg, they give me my
breakfast and where. Here they
I