DISCHARGING MARTHA.

Press, Volume LXV, Issue 13432, 26 May 1909, Page 2

DISCHARGING MARTHA.

Bt Casb9U> Watson Rastkix (Author of "The AdopUng ol Rosa Marie.") From the "Centwy" for Match. The first applicant to respond to Brice and Pendleton's advertisement for an office-girl appeared fairly promising to Tom Page, who was too busy with taxtitles to look very closely at the young woman; so Martha Pratt, with "country-bred" written all over her, was promptly engaged. At first Martha's innumerable mistakes wero ascribed to her newness; but by the end of the first week, when no improvement was visible, Mr Brice, clearing his throat ominously, waylaid Mr Pendleton near the street door. "By the way, Pendleton," said he, "that new girl'doesn't fill the bill." "Tell Page to advertise for another to-morrow," advised Mr Pendleton. "I meant to mention it this noon. He'd better toll the girl, too. Of course we'll give her a week's warning." Martha, however, entertained no suspicion of this threatening state of affairs when, the next morning, she bounced into that «uiet olhco, carrying three substantial buttonhole-bouquets. "My grandmother sent them." beamed good-natured Martha, presenting her solid gifts, without trace of either coquetry or partiality, to Mr Brice, Mr Pendleton, and Tom Page. "They're fresh from the country." Elderly Mr Brice glared at the mat-ter-of-fact girl; Pendleton made queer, embarrassed noises in his throat*. Tom "'age, controlling with difficulty the twitching corners of his mouth, pinned his unexpected gift to tho lapel of his coat. Martha, observing nothing and apparently entirely satisfied with herself, retired to her own.corner. Indeed, Martha was not observant. Perhaps if sho had been, she would have made a more satisfactory assistant. As it was, she had much to learn; but unfortunately, no one in that busy office possessed cither the timo or tho inclination to struggle with incompetence. Not only was Martha's ignorance of office methods colossal, but the" girl seemed disorderly and untidy to an astonishing degree. Her desk waa always in confusion. Her figures staggered down the pago liko a rail fence on end. Her writing was smeared with blots. Sho eyed thaae with good-natured tolerance. ... "I never could use ink without spilling it," she confessed to Tom Page. "We Pratts aro generous even with our ink." Yet, in spite of the general untidiness of Martha's belongings, about the girl herself there was a clean wholesomeness that was rather pleasing. She was not a pretty girl. Hor countenance was too broad,'too freckled, too ruddy for beauty; but the lines of her mouth were neatly cut, and her big brown eyes fairly beamed with honesty and kindliness. However, in the frigid atmosphere of Brice and Pendleton's it was not customary for the clerks to beam with anything. Tom Pago had recognised that fact at once, and had promptly suppressed his own natural tendency towards exuberance. But Martha, who lacked Tom's keen perception, remained her simple, kindly, radiant, and disorderly self. Of course neither Mr Brico nor Mr Pendleton, with Martha's unwelcome gift perched on his desk, could bring himself to the point of mentionin- the matter of Martha's dismissal that morning. It seemed too much like betraying a trusting child. So, all unconsciously, Martha had postponed the evil moment. Then, before the flowers had quite faded, beaming Martha armcared one morning with six splendid, big, red apnlos in a plebeian yellow "»-er bag. "Uncle Ben sent them," explained Martha, who, in spite of the announced fact that she was an orphan, seemed bountifully sunplied with country relatives. "Then isn't another tree like that in our country. Eat them right now; they'll take you back to boyhood." Again Mr Brice glared at Martha; again Mr Pendleton made queer, embarrassed noisos in his throat; again Tom Page struggled with his twitching lips. All three were at an utter loss of words. But they ate tho apples, for such perfect fruit was indeed rare. And again was the moment of Martha's dismissal postponed. .* Before the memory of those delicious aisles had quite vanished, Martha arrived one. rainy morning accompanied by a large circular object, which she unwrapped on Mr Briee's sacred desk. It wa a pie—a huge, thick, golden pumpkin pie, with a tender, fluted crust. "Aunt Julia made it," confided radiant Martha. "I noticed yon had a cold, Mr Pendleton, and I thought this pie might sa\» your going out to lunch; but there's jplenty for all—wait, here's a knifo and three forks. This is all your pie; I had mine for breakfast." It was certain that no pie had ever before been eaten in the formal, businesslike atmosphere of that expensively furnished office. But, little as the idea appeal.d to them, tho three nonplussed men ate Aunt Jane's handiwork and found it extremely good. . Martha's numerous relatives, it developed, were not only generous, but well-to-do. They wero fond of ambitious, orphaned Martha; and, being kindly disposed generally, wore interested in her employers. They were as simple and as guileless as Martha herself. In Ridgeway it was customary to give way to generous impulses. That this was not the fashion in the business circles of Bolton was an idea that had not occurred-to any of tho Pratts. , '•■ , During tho noon hour one day the three men found themselves alone. "Pendleton," said Mr Brice, eyeing the golden russet pear on bis desk, "that wooden-headed girl is buying, us." . . "Yes," agreed Mr Pendleton, glancing at the twin pear on his own desk, "she certainly is; but she doesn't knov it—l'm convinced of thai." "Perhaps not," returned Brice, doubtfully; "but tho fact remains that we've been hought. What are we going to do about it? I—well—l can t eat a pear like that and then deliberately crush the donor." "It's a tough proposition, admitted Pendalton. . "There's a first-rate girl in Hooper's." suggested Tom Page, "that we could havo for the asking. They're cutting down their office force. We could Tot Miss Pratt do the drudgery —there's enough of it, and she's certainly willing enough. That would let her down by degrees.and give us tho efficient help that we lack at present." Thus weakly temporising, the partners agreed to this plan. The new girl. Miss Emmons, proved hI! that Martha was not. Neat, slender, efficient, self-contained. Miss Emmons was like a piece of well-oiled office furniture. Within forty-eight hours of her arrival. Messrs Brico and Pendleton were all but oblivious to the fact that Miss Emmons existed. They did realise, however, that tho offico work vns going with unprecedented smoothness. Martha realised it also. But Martha could not regard tho new-comer with indifference. To the deposed clerk Miss Emmons was a revelation. Her clothes, her reserved yet assured manner, most of all hor systematic neatness, profoundly impressed countrybred Martha. There was no doubt about her unstinted admiration for Miss Emmons. MJartha began at once to copy the older girl's clothes, her way of doing her hair, her noiseless manner of moving about the office. She even tried to imitate Miss Emmons's neat figures and precise handwriting. By the end of a fortnight, ill-taught Martha was improving b.v leaps and bounds. "By Jove!" said Tom Page. "Inever supposed she had it in her, or I'd have given her a lift or two myself. Perhaps," after all, there's the making of a good business woman in her. Perhaps sho was merely raw and green.

They say that width between the eyes denotes intelligence; the width's there, all right. But of course Brice and Pendleton's is no kindergarten for greenhorns; we couldn't bo expected w> teach her. Bat she's certainly picking up." There was no doubt about it, Martha was "picking up." But in one respect she was still unchanged. Russet pears from Uncle Rowan, Baldwin from Uncle Ben, Aunt Julia's famous pumpkin pies, and bouquets trom Grandma Pratt's luxuriant honsoplanta, continued to invade the office. Whenever one of these incongruous gifts arrived. Miss Emmons wore a superior smilf, which Tom Pige easily interpreted, but to which Martha remained fiublime-ly impervious. The thanks of Miss Emmons for her s v ..?re in these gifts were delicately ironical. This also missed fire with' honeet Martha. One morning the usually prompt Mr Brice arrived late. It vras evident to the least observant that he was suffering with a stiff neck. Mr Brice at his best was an unapproachable person; Mr Brico in pain was formidable to his most courageous relative. Mr Pendleton wisely postponed certain business matters that he had intended to mention, Tom Page quietly effaced himself; Miss Emmons as quietly becamo a piece of insensate office furniture; but Martha, nothing daunted, exclaimed sympathetically: "Mercy, Mr Brice. you must be feeling just awful! I had one of those necks once, and it hurt like all possessed. I'm real sorry for you." Mr Brico glowered. Mr Pendleton gulped. Tom P-ge controlled his treacherous lips. Miss Emmons shot a satirical yot guarded glance in Tom Pago's direction. "Don't worry," assured oblivious Martha: "it won't last long." That noon Martha wis late; she was likewise flushed and dishevelled from unusual exertion. She placed a tall, brown bottle on Mr Brice's highlypolished desk. "Sorry I'm late," said she, easily; "but I had to go way out to Cousin Sarah Calliper's for this mixture. It's the best stuff ever made for stiff necks. Take off your collar and rub this Liniment on the cords. Don't bo afraid; Cousin Sarah mado it herself." "Even on the hottest day of midsummer Mr Brice had never committed tho impropriety of removing his coat or loosening his collar in that austere office, but now, under Martha's cmpelling oye. the collar came off, the evil-smelling liniment went on. "Now," said Martha, producing a compact roll of coarse flannel, "wrap this about your neck." Mr Brice, still glowering, obeyed. was simply nothing elsa to do with those kindly, insistent brown eyes compelling him. Mr Pendleton conside rateJy removed himself from the premises; Tom Page discovered instant and pressing business within tho fireproof vault. At intervals durmg the afternoon Martha insisted on fresh applications. At closing time, Mr Brice. whose bravest relative would have hesitated, in a matter of life or death, to ask him tc carry a parcel, walked meekly out. of the office with a big, brown bottle distending tho pocket of hs faultless coat. A muffler, impulsively borrowed by Martha from Tom Page, mercifully concealed the red flannel. And then Miss Emmons. who felt that matters had gone far enough, turned to beaming Martha. In cold, outting, unmistakable- words she told her that she was a simple-minded greenhorn; that office-girls wore expected to work, not to conciliate their employers with fcolish gifts; that when a business firm employed a girl, it did not wish to be burdened with obligations to all that girl's relatives. She ridiculed the apples, the pears, tho pumpkin pies, and the brown liniment. She made poor Martha see how ludicrouiie a thing it was for old Grandma Pratt to send her home-grown bouquets to such men as Messrs Brice and Pendleton and Tom Page. There was no doubt that Martha needed su'oh a lesson; but, as the wellaimed blows landed neatly, the girl fairly staggered under tiho battery. ■Vγ—l" didn't know," she gasped. Then, plunging blindly into her wraps, Mnrtha flod toward the elevator. "That was a hanged shame," confided Tom Pago to the contents of hie desk. "No man could have knifed her like that." * Thereaftor, tliero wero no more apples, no more pears, no more pies. When Tom Page came down unmistakably with quinsy, Martha, knowing that her home contained the perfect remedy, remained 'outwardly impassive as Miss Emmons herself. Then came, the startling days of tho panic. Brice arid Pendleton found themselves suddenly and uncomfortably involved. For a week even obtuse Martha could see that Messrs Brice and Pendleton were exceedingly troubled. She gathered vaguely that an alarmingly large sum of money was needed for some immediate "contingency ; that the money wns not forthcoming, and that the world in gpne-rnl was not to be apprised of the pressing nt'od. She learned, too, that both Mr Brice and Mr Pendleton had tried, and failed, to secure a largo portion of the needed amount; and that both men wero surprised, shocked, and bewilderod at finding tho firm in this unlookedfor predicament. But Martha was now sophisticated. She know now that she lived in a world where it was not considered proper to "rush in" with eager offers of assistance. It was not in Martha, however, to permit even an ice-clad employer to sink with human aid in sight: A month previously, the task would have been simple. Now. enlightened by Miss Emmons, Martha fcund it exceedingly hard to extend tc the drowning men her straw, even though it proved, like her apples, pears, and pics, rather a substantia! straw. Yot, gathering all her courage, sho forced herself "to cross t3ie room under the fire of Miss Emmons's hard, enquiring eyes and to stand, inwardly crintrjng, beside Mr Brico'e desk. "Mr Brice," said she, abject in hoi eonscionsness and crimsoning and palmg by turns. "I know now that it isn't proper for mc to offer to do anything more in this office than you tell mo to do. I've learned that—and I'm awfully sorry I have learned it. because wo Pratts like to do things for others. I guess it's part of our religion out ."n Ridgeway; but I see now that it is'nt that way in towns. But—but—well, would eighteen thousand dollars bo of any use to you?" "Use!" gasped Mr Brice, clutching the arms of his chair. "Use! Why, girl, if I could have that sum '<i?fore noon to-morrow it would just about save Brice and Pendleton!" ' "Well," returned Martha, now as calm as if she werp lightly proffering eighteen cents. "Uncle Ben, Uncle Rowan, and Uncle Henry—he's Aunt Julia's husband —could lend you that much money and hold their tongues about it. If you'll ride out to Jiidgeway with mc now, you can fix it up with the men folks." Leaving Mr Pendleton, Tom Page, and Miss Emmons gasping like three freshly-landed trout, the senior partner and Martha departed hurriedly to catch the suburban car. ."That girl," said Mr Pendleton. re covering finally, "is as sound and wholesome as one of Aunt Julia's pies." "And her kind,' , agreed Tom Page, "is as rare as that apple-tree of Uncle Ben's." "Fortunately," breathed Miss Em mons. "No," shouted Mr Pendleton an-l Tom in chorus.