Turns about Town Part 9

I have a great time at that show. (My cold is immensely better.) I fix on one eye-gla.s.s so as to see something desirable. And I cut up a lot.

But--when we turn to leave I discover the president of my company going out just ahead of me. Well, I suppose I'll have to take what is coming to me tomorrow.

That one good meal, anyhow (after the pool), has strengthened my spirit immensely. I plan to have a regular, genuine breakfast in the morning.

The kind I used to enjoy before I started in to get myself in fine shape. A breakfast of sliced pineapple, eggs, steak, fried potatoes, cottage-cheese, hot rolls, and two pots of good strong coffee. A pipe afterward.

When I get out to the house I find that my uncle (from whom I had been estranged for years) has died, and left me his fine, ninety carat, forty jewel, repeater watch.

I wake up bursting with joyous life. The girl tells me that those especially handsome gla.s.ses I lost last New Year's Eve have been found.

Down at the station the station-master comes out to greet me. He says so many people have slipped on our hill that next week the railroad is going to install a free coach service. I see by the morning paper that the horse I took a twelve to one shot on in the Buenos Aires derby came out the length of the stretch to the good. On the train into town I smoke a couple of packages of cigarettes--as I become a bit bothered about the situation at the office.

A girder, or something, had fallen across the track. The train is held up. For a couple of hours it stands there. I become more than decidedly nervous. Now this is awful bad doings. Everything had been coming so right again. It seems as if there is no reward in this world for anything. Here for a whole month or so I had been subjecting myself to the most rigorous and unpleasant kind of discipline solely in order to make myself more efficient in my work, and so more valuable to the house. Nothing else. Then by an accident I am kept away from the office one afternoon, and this has to go and happen just to keep me away probably the whole of the forenoon. Everything will, of course, be misunderstood and misinterpreted. Instead of getting just credit for what I've done, I'll probably get bounced. If anyone wants to have the moral of this story pointed out to him: it is that there is not much use in trying, you can see that.

When I do get to the office my secretary is in quite a flurry. She tells me that Mr. Equity, the president, has been inquiring for me. In fact--she hesitates--wants me to step in to see him as soon as I arrive.

So, there you are!

Mr. Equity (a most unusual thing in any circ.u.mstances) shakes my hand with great cordiality. He smiles, not benignantly but rather deferentially. Says that he has recognized for some little time that I have not had a salary commensurate with my services. Times, however, are not of the best. Would I be willing to continue with the firm at--a pause--well, double my present salary? Everything, he adds, would be made as pleasant for me as possible.

His secretary whispers to me in an outer office: "He has been so fl.u.s.tered. He was scared you weren't ever coming back."

I discussed this matter of the strange workings of the human system with a friend of mine outside the office. "Ah!" he said, "you didn't persevere long enough in looking after yourself. If you had kept it up for a year instead of only a month, you'd be a well man today. And," he added seriously, "a successful man, too."

CHAPTER XIII

SEEING THE "SITUATIONS WANTED" SCENE

"What a lot of things they put in the papers!" Hilaire Belloc observes somewhere in one of his essays. Indeed, it is so!

I fear, however, that one of the features "they" put in the papers does not have anything like as popular a reading as it deserves to have.

Those of the governing cla.s.s, personages who employ people, probably consult fragments of this department of the newspaper now and then. But, it may fairly be claimed, n.o.body reads, with the delicious pleasure and the abundant profit he might read, that part of the paper fullest of all of, so to say, meat and gravy.

The story it tells is probably the deepest grounding in life to be found in print. There as it stands in today's paper Shakespeare (I fancy) could not have written it, nor Balzac, nor d.i.c.kens, nor Arnold Bennett, nor O. Henry, nor Sinclair Lewis. This newspaper feature is called "Situations Wanted." It might just as accurately be called "The Human Scene," or "The Heart of the World," or "The Cry of the Soul." Its tale is of what all men are seeking (and have ever sought), each in his own degree, and after his fas.h.i.+on--bread, a place in the sun, a level higher than that of today.

Let us, briefly, survey this Page of Life.

The most conspicuous figure in the vast and motley throng is the Bold and Confident Man. He that knows his superior worth and does not propose to hide his light, he that has the spirit to attack the conqueror. His method is to fling a large and arresting headline across his "ad." "I AM THE MAN YOU WANT!" he begins. Or, "PAR-EXCELLENCE," he announces in big type. Or, "Mr. Busy Manufacturer," he says in good sized "caps"; in smaller letters asks: "Are you in need of _a competent manager_?" If Mr.

B. M. is in such need, it is squarely put up to him: he "will do well to address X." To the employer who hesitates this vital opportunity is lost. The ad says: "Write now--_Right Now!_" Undoubtedly this is the horse to put your money on; the hero to marry your daughter to. He will not want.

Our bold, aggressive friend frequently writes, barring a bit of "bounce," an admirable, clean-cut account of himself. He has, he declares, acted for some of the leading concerns in the country; he has never yet failed to give satisfaction; every employer he ever had will testify to his ability and character. He invites the closest investigation of his record, and he is open for any engagement where faithful work, absolute integrity and devotion to his employer's interests will be productive of "a fair living salary." It is, indeed, difficult to avoid the impression that this man "has the goods."

Akin to him in his method of a bill-board-like headline is another, of whom one is not so sure. He does not so much command attention as seek to beguile it. His particular "lay" is the Ingenious. Here is one example of his style:

AN ADVERTISING ADVENTURER

offers 16 years' experience

(scarred by a few notable defeats and a thorough knowledge edge of what NOT to do) to a manufacturer, for whom he will SAVE more than his wages; a bad man, who does not drink, never was out of work, is married and proud of it; age 32; would rather work than eat.

Address: Alert.

Then there is the Challenge Not to Be Denied. Here is a sample: "_Accountant_.--Are you one of the progressive firms? If you are, you want----" etc. Frequently one comes across the Facetious Advertiser. He runs some such headline as this: "_Editor for Rent._" Or perhaps he says: "'_Secretarial Services' For Sale._" In contrast to him is the advertiser with the Tremulous Appeal. He may begin: "_Who Wants My Services?_" And go on to say: "I am hard worker and steady, and willing to go anywhere. Salary about $12 a week." Or perhaps he says: "_Privilege_ of meeting man who can utilize my services." Or maybe it is thus: "$15 per Week and an Opportunity." Such a very human ad as this is likely to continue somewhat like this:

Can you use a young man of twenty-one--one of really serious purpose? I have had enough business experience and training to know that to be of help I must do well whatever I am given to do. Of course I am looking for a future--but I know that it does not matter so much what I do as how I do it. Therefore, I believe any reputable business holds a future. I am from Kansas, in New York on my own resources and so must have $15 per week to start. I have a high school education, and have read a great deal, and have attended Business School.

Next is the Poignant ad. The purest example of this which in my studies I have discovered is headed: "_Who Will Talk With Me?_" A step beyond this we come upon the Altogether Pitiful. I mean like the one I here copy out:

WILL you please find or give office employment to an educated, with physical defect, young man; just a chance to work two weeks without salary desired?

Akin to the poignant situation-wanted advertis.e.m.e.nt is the Urgent: "_Advertising Writer_, college man (Princeton), urgently needs situation." Or: "_Proofreader_, educated young man, requires position _immediately_." It is, such is the inference, defective philanthropy in an employer to delay. A touching figure, too (because he does not suspect that he is a touching figure), is the Cheery and Hopeful. We have him here: "_Ambitious_ young American (28) desires position; will try anything; moderate salary to start."

A wily fellow is the Ingratiating advertiser. Sometimes he is a "Spanish young man" who offers to work altogether without salary as Spanish correspondent in some export house "where he could practice English."

Occasionally he is a "copy writer" who, wis.h.i.+ng a position with an agency or mercantile firm, is "willing to demonstrate ability for two weeks before drawing salary." Now and then a still more positive character baits the hook with the offer of gratis services. In this morning's paper a stenographer releases the seductive declaration that "one trial will demonstrate my value to you."

A role played on the stage of the "Situations Wanted" page which I have always much admired is that of the Highly Dignified. The Bold and Confident Man, the Ingenious, the Tremulous, the Poignant, the Hopeful, the Ingratiating--the voices of all these figures touch one with a sense of the harsh clash of life, its trickiness, its vicissitudes, its pathos and its tragedy. But "_A Gentleman_ of 50," who, "having a considerable private income, desires dignified occupation; salary unimportant,"

revives the poetic idea that (at any rate, now and then) G.o.d's in His heaven and all's right with the world. The highly dignified advertiser certainly is a very enviable character. It must be very nice to be able to say, as in this advertis.e.m.e.nt before us: "_Light Occupation of an Important Nature_ is sought by middle-aged gentleman capable of a.s.suming control and conducting any normal business enterprise."

A very colorful feature of the "Situations Wanted" page is the interesting qualifications frequently set forth. Glancing at the paper in hand I find a young man of twenty-five who seeks a "permanent position" with a publisher recommending himself as being "affable." Also here is a "refined gentleman" who desires a "compatible" position and lists among his accomplishments skill in the art of "tasty drawing." A "keen discreet American" looking for a job with a "corporation" mentions his "suave manners." A butler unemployed regards himself as "very nice."

A college graduate of twenty-eight who wants to "begin at the bottom"

a.s.serts that he is a "fluent talker." A "young man with literary ability" flings out the intimation that he "desires position where it will be of some use." A dressmaker states that in her calling she is "perfect." A clerk is "very smart at figures." A nurse puts forward her a.s.set as a "plain writer." You are pleased to discover that so many people have a "pleasing personality." And that among stenographers there are so many who may be described (they say) as an "attractive young girl." Here is one who introduces herself as both "prepossessing" and "brainy." A "woman of education" who seeks occupation at "anything useful if there is friendliness" gives as her leading characteristic a "sense of humor." Now and then the recommendations offered somewhat mystify me, as in the advertis.e.m.e.nt of the lady, "age 29, fine personality (widow of P. M. of F. and A. M.)." Then there is that great company who have but one merit to display. They may be represented in the "Female" column by the "_Respectable_ young woman" who "wishes day's work." And in the "Male" column by the "_Sober_ man" who (simply) "desires position." Sometimes here it is difficult to determine the degree of sobriety maintained, as in the frequent advertis.e.m.e.nt of the chauffeur who discreetly states that he is "temperate."

In case you should write down your idea of your own "appearance," what would you say? I confess that such a problem would puzzle me. It does not puzzle some. "Situation Wanted" ads record that there are numerous young men of "exceptional appearance." Though occasionally we come upon a young man of almost painful conscientiousness who feels that he should not go further than to say that he is of "fair appearance."

The queer dissimilarity of human aspirations echoes through the "Situations Wanted" page. Here is a "_Gentleman_, excellent education and personality, linguist," who wants a position as a companion, or "courier, &c." A "_Highly_ educated French lady would gladly take a child for walks every day from 10 to 12." A "_Lady_, 27, of literary bent desires position as companion around the world." It is remarkable, the number of persons there are in the world of "literary" tendency.

Remarkable, too, how many people with an inclination to travel. Here is a "_Cornell Graduate_" who has, apparently, no aversion whatever to spending the winter in "a warm climate." There are "_Two_ young men, partners," who "wish to join an expedition, any destination." But there are home-keeping souls, too. A "_Cultured_ elderly man, neat," craves "household duties." And so on.

What a rich variety of characters throng the populous scene of the "Situations Wanted" page! Here, in today's paper, following the advertis.e.m.e.nt of a "sculptor" comes that of a "former policeman." A "_Physician_, practicing twenty years in Paris, speaking English, French, Spanish, German, Italian, seeking situation," is cheek by jowl with a "_Plumber_, good all round man." A young man who has "put 9 years at sea as steward" nonchalantly asks "What have you?" A "_Former College Professor_, 30, seeks field of occupation in advertising." And a "_Cavalry_ man, excellent record, wishes position at anything." A "_Cultured Visiting Governess_ of good family, social position, trains ladies, English, grammar, literature, elegant correspondence, art of conversation, current events, social etiquette." A remarkable "gentleman" presents himself as "qualified to do most anything." And a "Christian, age 38," wishes a position as "manager of a laundry."

A strategic device frequently employed by the humble is that of getting someone whose position has weight to present them. For instance, "Rev.

Dr. Moffett recommends a colored man for janitor of a loft building."

And numerous are the gentlemen who, laying up their cars, are interested in placing their chauffeurs elsewhere.

"_Boy_" is perhaps the word which dominates the page. Most boys, apparently, are not particular in their choice of a calling. They are "willing to do anything." Now and then one declares that he is a "good fighter," or something like that. Here is one who demands a "position where mental ability will be necessary." Here is another who is very specific, thus: "15-1/2 years old, 5 feet 8-1/4 inches tall."

Sometimes one meets a very extraordinary character in these columns. The other day no less a distinguished person than this put in an ad:

I am compelled, through severe strain, to discontinue my work (involving the mental faculties) with which I have puzzled the scientific world for several years, and which has netted me a weekly income of over $200; I have no other source for a livelihood and consequently appeal to the business world for an opportunity to grow up in a new endeavor. WHY NOT MEET ME AND TALK IT OVER?

A genuinely touching ad, sensible and obviously quite sincere, in which you hear the appealing voice of a fellow being in trouble, but an ad which I fear is rather futile, is one like this:

Am 43 years old; defective hearing prevents continuation of salesman's career; I want situation where this impairment does not prevent satisfactory discharge of required duties.

A great, and a grave, lesson may be learned from the "Situations Wanted"

page. And that is to be found mainly in the section where the first word of each advertis.e.m.e.nt is simply "MAN." Men there are in it of every age.

I mean in considering the plight of the world one should ponder that great army whose business is "anything."