"DICKSON'S PULL"

Evening Star, Issue 16263, 4 November 1916, Page 3

"DICKSON'S PULL"

\ ♦, — [By R.. Andom... author cf « Wo THree and Troddles,"ete-, etc.] Dickson was a clerk in a North Country shipping firm, and truth compels me to 6tato that ho was not of any great value at that; but ho was plodding, methodical, and cheap, and ho did his best, and more than that no man can do. Mr Streeter recognised this; only, being a hard-headed business man with a keen interest in profits he had to consider whether another man's best would not be of greater value to the firm than Dickson's, and without wasting any time on the,problem ho decided it would. Though rob a big firm', as firms go, Streeter's was prosperous and progressive, and Dickson was correspondingly depressed when he heard at first hand that the hopes he had formed ten years back, on entering the hoiwe as office boy at the age of fourteen," were net to bo realised. Ho had the small mind which is content with moderato fortuno, and he had seen. a steady cud progressive, if small, salary for all his days, and a safo secuiity I from penury and distress. Hope had grown into certainty as year followed year and rusted him into the firm's machinery, and it never occurred to him that he could bo dispensed with until Mr Streeter told him ho could. In consideration of his long service a month's g-aco was accorded him, ;uid no better terms could he' make, though ho pleaded desperately, more on account of his widowed mother tkr.n his own, for a remission of sentence. "We aro not a benevolent institution, Dickson," Mr Streeter had said, severely. ' " We can obtain better service at a oheaper rato than you can or do give us, and finris must buy labor as well as material in the best market if they want to keep up." "And what about the old?" queried Dickson, with a spirit that astonished himself when he had time to consider it. The old evidently was not a factor Mr Streeter cared to consider. It was not incumbent on him to consider it, and so he told his clerk. "Things like this, you know, must be At every famo;i3 victory" seemed to bo the burden of h'<s song, and Dickson, who was not interested in nny victory in which ho was to have no share of the spoil, gavo up tho unequal contest and retired hurt. He had a month's respite, anyway, and many things can iripptu in "a month. Easter happened in his month, and it happened barely two weeks sifter ho had received notice to quit. It just happily arranged to a!lo\y time to deaden the first keen sense of dismay and apprehension, and leavo a sufficient margin in hand to keep the full realisation of his position from overwhelming him; and s-j, with a reckless frugality, Dickson went to Scarborough for a brief holiday, and with him went his beloved camera—for Dickson had one hobby, 0110 love, one delight, and that was photography. It was reckless of a man in Dickson's position to take a holiday at all; but having decided to be reckless, Dickson studied ways and means, and was, as I have already suited, frugal. He had a friend livinc m Scarborough, who put him up in rough-and-ready quarters end gavo Uim sympathy in accordance with lus need and desire. It was a relief merely to be i..bio to discuss Iho matter. So far he had not spoken at homo of tho impending trouble; " No need to hurry over it," Dickson had ■u-gued to himself. "Mother will see starvation and tho workhouse looming for us at once; and, besides, there is always the chance- that old Streeter will change his mind. Hang it all! I do my best, and he cant want ten bob a week so badly." Of course, Mrs Dickson would ha'va to be told, and that fact weighed with her son moro oppressively than all other considerations put together. Sho would take it badly, lie knew, and in any caso it is not a pleasant task to have to announce that on and after such-and-such a date the family income will ceaso. There was something laid aside for a rainy flay; but it is not eaey to save or.t of five-mid-thirty shillings weekly, nor had the old ago pension, which would have allowed his mother to claim her weekly live shillings, come into operation. Unknown to his clerk, Mr Streeter had also come to Scarborough to spend his holiday, and to tho queen of watering-places journeyed by road in the very latest tiling in the way of motor cars Miss Daisy Bird,°the idol of half the music-hall frequenting youths of the metropolis. Blissfully unconscious of tho pres<=nco of both, Mr Streeter, combining business with pleasure, looked up his friends and sunned himself on the pier and along the parade, and dreamt of wealth and magnificence beyond anything his sober-minded parent who had established the business eve contemplated. It was something moro than the mere frivolous quest of pleasure that had brought Mr Streeter to Scarborough. A controlling interest in a rival firm was to be acquired, and at Hull within a week he hoped to finish the work he began three years ago, when he married the plain and very austere daughter of tho senior partner as a first step towards amalgamation. Scarborough formed a natural and not unattractive halfway resting-place in which to formulate and put the finishing touch to his plans, and thus it camo to pass that middle-aged ambition, despondent youth, and a lady whose age may not be stated camo together to a place of frank enjoyment and' unlimited possibilities in any direction. At forty odd Mr Streeter was rigid and oustere to the point of severity. He had a prominent position in church affairs, was dignified in local administration, with a position in his country, end a seat o nthe bench, and he made no secret of tho fact that at tho next General Election he intended' to represent the shipping interests of the North in Parliament. But there had been a time, and not so very long ago, when Mr Streeter had not the rigid austerity that comes from big ambitions. Previous to his nvu-ria"* three years before, when he had forsaken love and frivolity for many solid worldly advantages, Mr Streeter had iooked upor- the wine when it was red, and learned som?thin<» of turf matters, and had paid considerable Rums for the knowledge. He knew the Fashion and make of a billiard cue, and lie dallied in the company of the fair who sine and dance, and bid dull caro beronc to afi who have a spare shilling and tho inclination to listen and oc beguiled. And the lauy with whom he had dallied longest and most persistently was Miss Daisy Bird. There was nn unexplained item in Mr Streeter's private cash account for £2,000, which may or may rot hav-o been th u price paid for freedom to accept the hand and fortune of the elderly and plain Mis 3 Grimes. Those who knew Miss Bird best wouid have said ib was, and r.omo of them would have ' expressed an opinion that the gay Lothario rr ot , off "at very reasonable rates after all tilings—which included expensive presents and a bundle of letters—considered. As a matter of business, Mr Streeter could not be said to regret it. It is possible that ho would have paid moro gladly to have gained iha music-hall lady, and "been liberated from the elderly and" plain Miss Grimes. Mrs Streeter was not made up of many attractive qualities, jnd in three ve-tri her husband had learnt to be afraid of her narrow views and shrewish tonsrnc, and to hold that tho fifty thousand pounds sho bad . brought him had been somewhat des-ly acquired. However this may be, there was uo Riistenty and a certain amount of sentiment observable in the gentleman's manner a handscmo roan-colored motor car ilrew up to tho hotel in which he was staying, and he heard himself addressed by the ravishmgly fair occupant: "Well, I never, Edward! Whoever would havo thought of meeting vou here'" The chasm of years thus bridged, notbrnnwas more natural than that two finch old friends should lunch together, walk io' T e',her Mid motor together, and so it came to pass that strolling out from Scarborough on the Whitby road, pipo in mouth and camera on • back, Dickson was passed by a motor car driven by a most beautiful lady, and containing tho rigid austerity who had sentenced him to starvation at the expiration or another fortnight. Thtre was envy, but no bitterness, in tho mm* or the clerk as ho gazed after the car " That's not his car. It must octane to tlie lady/ he mused. "Jolly prettv g?rl too I wonder who sho is? She isn't on Us'wife's visiting list, I'll bet—bit too saucy. I seem to remembe* seeing her somewnerc. If I meet them again I'll have a snap at them. It would make a fine picture, the motor comingalong towards me, and that girl driving" Dickson got bis snap, though not quite "as he would havo likel. That is tho drawback to amateur photography: you havo to take things as you find them, and are seldom in a position to pose your subjects according to the light and your artistic taste. As a matter of fact, the car had come to a sudden halt a couple of milcy along the road when Dickson snapped it. The chauffeur was on iis hands groping into the mechanism in search of the fault, and the girl Vending forward with her hr.nd on the wheel, was engaging her companion in such de-py and earnest conversation .that they bth failed lo notice the shabby lit-tlo pedestrian who crossed the road to a protecting clump of busies, and focusscd his camera on Ibeiu at Ha leisure.

Two hours later he: came' upon the car again, drawn up on the turf about a couple of miles from, TRobin Hood's Bay. It was empty then, and tho chauffeur was sitting on the step with a paper and'a pipe evidently reconciled to a lengthy delay. There was a footpath down to the beach immediately opposite, and Dickson took it, with tho purpose of walking along the shore to I the picturesque little town, in quest of bread 1 and cheese and ale. . Between him and tho object of his immediate desire he came upon a picnic party of two, comfortably settled on the sand behind a cluster of rocks, with a dainty little cloth spread between them, on which rested a bottle, and glasses, a pie and fruit, and all the dainty appurtenances which go to the making of an impromptu feast amoii" the wealthy and fastidious. Dickson recognised his employer as he turned to throw away his cigarette preparatory to feasting, and ho drew back hastily and hid himself behind a friendly rock. This time he was not so innocent of intention. "Old Streeter is mightily straightlaced at home,' he muttered, "and this may be all right; but I wonder what would be the value of a photograph of it. It would interest a good many people at Durcastle, and Mr Streeter might be inclined to buy a copy if I get hard up. By Jove! I'll take Given a fair picture, a sunny beach, with plenty of rocks about, and all things aro possible to the amateur photographer. With patience and persistent endeavor Dickson contrived to arrange himself and camera, seeing that ho could not very well interfere with his subjects, not. even to the extent of asking them to look pleasant, and a click made a; permanent record of tho pretty scene. Chance rather than nrt lent it "a touch of interest which was of considerable value to the photographer later. They say the camera cannot lie, and perhaps it cannot: but it can misrepresent the truth, and it did then, when it showed Mr Streeter in tho very act of kissing his fair companion as he bent forward to have his glass filled 'by his pretty cup-bearer. And "kisses and fair ladies—tut, tut!" the rigid and austere of Durcastle would exclaim if ever they saw this record of what never had been; at least not that day on the smiling sands of Robin Hood's Bay. "There," said Dickson to himself, in tones of complete satisfaction, and half an hour later, over his frugal lunch in the town ho added, thoughtfully: "If that developes all right there are possibilities in it as an argument for a reconsideration of my case stronger than anything I could havo hoped for. Looking at it squarely, I suppose it isn t a fair deal; but I am not a benevolent institution, and I must sell my labor and material in the best market if I want to keep up. And I do want to keep up, and so does mother. Pretty phrasing that. I shall practise it up "fov the interview, if there is an interview. If Streeter alters his mind on his own account 111 mako him a present of those negatives; otherwise I shall trade on them, and I don't think I shall be content to accept quite such low terms, either. After all, if he's got nothing to fear I shan't have much of a pull; if he has, ho can count it as part of the penalty." Ho developed the film when ho got back to Scarborough, and that, night he" showed the minor of the two snapshots—which !>e named 'The Breakdown'—to his friend, who displayed an interest in it that had nothing to do with its merit as a work of art. "Why," he exclaimed, "it's Daisy Bird. I knew her at home when she was quite a child; and a dirty little brute she was, too. Her father was a gamekeeper at Allertou's place there—Higgs, her proper name is. She grow up into a very pretty nrirl, and after entangling the vicar's son" and every possible fellow in the village except myself, who wasn't possible, sho "managed to. get young Allertou into her net, and "was bought off at a fairly stiff price by the squire. She left her place as part of the bargain, and I saw her next in a music hall at Glasgow, where she was doing a very inane and vulgar turn as 'Miss Daisy Bird, from London.' She loolc3 prosperous here. Who's the man she's with, I wonder? I never heard that she married." "She certainly didn't marry him," rejoined Dickson. "He's my boss until today fortnight, and I happen to know Mrs Streeter very well by sight. There's not much dainty feminine grace and beauty about Mrs S., I can tell you: and if she saw that, Streeter would know as much about feeling sick And afraid as I do." His friend whittled. "I never thought much of photography as a hobby," he observed : " but. I think vou've scored with it. If I had that in mv possession and wanted a job, do you know what I should do?" said Dickson, innocently. "Go to Streeter and ask for one," said his friend. "I believe I'd eret it, too. In the ordinary way there would be nothing i„ it. They look friendly, but you've onlv"W to dig up a page or two of that voung iady's history to make it clear that.", a man of weight and standing in the community has no business to be on friendly terms with Miss Daisy Bird. Durcastle folk are hard and narrow, and Streeter would have his hands very comfortahly full in explaining things without any domestic complications' Hes going to stand for Parliament, too. Just think what Andrew's party would make of that if it fell into his hands. Why, it would bo worth a thousand pounds to them Come on, let's go for a mouch round. You dont want any more, sympathy from me and I shall save a tenner bv not havinn- to lend it you." Dickson left Scarborough that night and was back on his accustomed stool by nine the next morning, where Mr Streeter found him nearly a week Irftor, when he returned. 1 hough not quite as easy and unconditional as he had hoped to find it Mr Street ers mission was satisfactory, and the .shrewd scheme of amalgamation by absorption, for which he had made many sacrifices, was practically accomplished. A few "raecful concessions, some work for the lawyers, and he looked to double his income immediately and treble it within a year. Success satisfies as nothing else can, and Mr Streeter camo back so nearly happy that- he refused the omce boys request for a small rise almost as though he were sorry not to be able to throw prudence to the dogs and sprint tho shilling. And it was in this mood "that Dickson caught him when he at last decided to put his fortune to the test and play Daisy Bird against increased efficiency with decreased expenditure. Long and anxiously had he studied the problem, for even to Dickson's obtuse understanding it seemed that tho matter on which he was awm* was somewhat nice, and, as such, required a good deal of tact and discrimination to handle effectively. "About my leaving here. Mr Streeter," he observed, nervously. "Oh, yes, next week, isn't it, Dick=on'" said his employer, briskly. "Well, I'l like you, if you could, to reconsider the matter, sir,-' said Dickson, rather more assuredly. Tho other man's tons of callous indifference roused him to a recollection that he had got a pull in Hie barkground, and the plea he was makin* wa* but a preliminary. " I have not been successful in finding anything suitable, and, with my mother dependent on me, my position wiil be very serious if you are not kind enough to give me at least an extension of time"" Businesses are not rim by kindness Dick son, retorted Mr Streeter. "You had your chance here and could not hold it., and" the tact that you cannot net into another house seems to me to justify mv action. You spend your time with a. camera 1 b,,|ieve instead of keeping pace with our requirements and learning shorthand and tvp*. writmg and American methods of bookkeeping. I am very sorry .for you: but there are other possibilities besides clerkin* which, candidly, you are not fitted for and I should recommend you to fake what vou can get if you cannot, get what, you want " 'That's dam good advice, Mi- Streeter" said Dickson, with a malicious grin, and at the tone and grin Mr Streets •• started in angry consternation. "You use an odd tone, Dickson " ho said severely. "I suppose you consider that' having nothing further to gain from me* you have no need to exercise a becoming demeanor. There aro such things as references, I may remind you, if you "do." "Not at all," said" Dickson, off-handedlv "I didn't much suppose you would be able to relinquish the chance of saving ten shillings a week, which I suppose is what it really means, though you yap so much about efficiency and superior methods. I thought I would give you the chance of keeping me on before I begin on my own. I am goiri"to start as a photographer." ° "I don't see how I am concerned with what you do or don't do after next week " said Mr_ Streeter, shortly. ' "I. might want to borrow the capital to start on, and then, again, I mightn't," said Dickson, slowly. "I can take photographs I was in Scarborough last week, and I got this couple there just to prove it to you They will interest you, I think." He laid the prints before his employer so insistently that, despite his resentm/nt and indifference, Mr Streeter was conshained to take a cursory survey of them. Mr Streeter was no fool, and he understood his position as soon as Uis ey« fell on tho unssjMted record of his holiday dalliance. "Blackmail, eh?" he said, with an ugly sneer. "No," said Dickson, serenely misunderstanding. "No; I call one 'The Breakdown,' and the other ' Picnicking on the Sands.' The public like simple, straightforward subjects aud titles—and men. I shall have.them enlarged and put, in the window as samples of my skill. Miss Daisy Bird will be pleased with them, and she ia so

well known that I shall get a lot of customers through her." " You young scoundrel," shouted the enraged man. f 'You know very well that I—that you—— '•" "That she—that it," mocked Dickson. "I don't know what you are talking about. Like yourself, I must sell my wares in the best market, and since you "drive me from clerking my wares are a camera and common sense." "Well, what's your price?" demanded Mr Streeter, and before Dickson could interfere bn seized the " photographs and shredded them. "There's no need to answer," he continued. ".I will give you a_ pound for your time and trouble. Draw your wages to the end of your term of notice and be off, and never come hero again." Dickson laughed outright and pocketed the pound. - " Some know one thing, some another, and all knowledge is useful," he commented. " If, for instance, you knew as much about photography as you do about efficiency and American methods, you would know that | those prints aro worth something les3 than a halfpenny. I can bring you a set fi;om now on to the end of your life, and would like to at the same rate of pay. What you want to destroy is the negatives, and they are not for sale on any terms." "Bring them, and I will reinstate you," said Mr Streeter, bluntly. " It's blackmail, and, whatever you may think, my meeting with that lady was purely accidental, and — but that's no business of yours. If you prefer a sum of money state it, and I will consider the matter." " Not at all, sir, thank you, sir," said Dickson, dropping as by magic into the deferential clerk. . "It is very kind of you, and I will do my best by American methods and earnest stifdy to increase my efficiency, and so justify your clemency." Mr Streeter grinned sourly, but he made no comment, and Dickson sat late that night over an elaborate enlargement from his negatives in a machine borrowed expressly for the purpose from the secretary of his Amateur Photographic Society, with whom he was on intimate terms. " Before I hand these over, sir, I think, as a matter of fairness, you should promise not to bear any resentment for my use of them." Dickson held up the films and looked suggestively at his employer, who regarded him obliquely for a second before he spoke. " Certainly," .he said then. "These are the films you took, I suppose, and I may assumo that you have no prints from them left?" "On my word of honor as an inefficient clerk," replied Dickson. "Very well," said Mr Streeter, and he took the films and put a match to them.' He watched them burn out, and then turned on Dickson in cold rage. "You are discharged, and will leave here at the end of this week," ho said, harshly. Dickson didn't seem to be surprised or disconcerted. Perhaps he expected this action on the part of his employer, and it. may be that he smiled at the recollection of his reason for being so late to bed the night before. " You promised to reinstate me,'' he said, quietly. "I reinstated you. This is a fresh dismissal," said Mr Streeter. "You promised as well not to nurse any ill-feeling over the use I made of those photographs," urged Dickson. "111-feeling? I don't bear ill-feeling towards my clerks," Mr Streeter observed, coldly. "I have forgotten—in fact, I deny that there were any photographs. You becro-pcl me to keep you on, and I, weakly, yielded." "Then why, may I ask, am I dismissed?" "Because, Dickson, you have taken the liberty of coming to my office in brown boots." Mr Streeter laughed shortly, and with a malice that he would liked to have kept from observation. "Rather a mean little liar, aren't you?" queried Dickson, deliberately. "A bit of a fool, too. Even an inefficient clerk would not be quite so simple as to play into your hands so completely as all that. I know something of American methods, and they are built on exceedingly smart lines. Before I gave up those films I made enlarged negatives from them. They do the lady much better justice, at any rate. I shall send copies to her and to Mrs Streeter tonight. If she won't show them to you, come round to my place, and you'll find them in a case exposed for sale." Mr Streeter curled up completely. " Oh, come, Dickson," he said, forcing a smile; "I was only jesting." "I am not," said Dickson, pointedly. "It's a matter of business with me—the new American style, composed of cheek and hustle. As an advertisement I prefer the picnic scene, and I shall do a couple of dozen of that, reduced, on post cards, and try and soil them from house !o house to-morrow. At a penny each they will command a ready sale, and the advertisement will be telling for me—and you.''. "But I didn't mean it, I repeal," sanl Mr Streeter, nervously. " You are a clerk in my employment. How dare you talk of such an action!" " I couldn't, if I were," Dickson agreed. "But you see, I am not." "But you are, I tell you," insisted Mr Streeter, feeling all of a sudden that something had been lost to him on which he could rely in his bargaining. "Um!" said Dickson, doubtfully. "All this coming and going is a bit confusing when it happens so suddenly. What salary do you propose giving?" "The same salary, Dickson; no difference whatver,'' Mr Streeter hastened to assure him. Dickson shook his head decidedly. "That's a bit less than the value of my work," he said. "What about the pull I've got? Modern ideas in business have to be paid for. What was the other man comin<* for?" " Twenty-five," replied Mr Streeter, sullenly. "You save ten on that," commented Dickson. " Give me that as well and I'll accept." Mr Streeter argued the matter with some heat; but, as Dickson was at the pains to point out to him, it wasn't a case for argument. He hadn't asked for the place, and unless he got the round fortv-five he wouldn't takeit. "Very well," said the baffled man, wearily, at last. "Of course, you give me all prints, negatives, and any and every copy of those photographs you have.'' " Certainly," said Dickson. " I -will hand them over in return for a promise to pay me three thousand pounds within one month of my leaving your service with and by your assent." Mr Streeter gasped, and concluded to trust to Dickson's honor and self-interest; and, as far as I know, Dickson is still with him. Mrs Dickson never learnt how nearly they had been to privation and want, and she is puzzled and angered sometimes at the odd grimace her boy makes when she inveighs against the expense, mess, and utter usolessness of his pet hobby. Also, she would like to know precisely what a "pull" is. "It gave mo a pull, mother," Dickson says, when he condescends to say anything in defence of his camera. What a "pull'' is Ihe old lady cannot for the life of her discover; but Dickson knows —and so does Mr Streeter. (The End.)

Twenty fountains and thirty troughs j are to be erected this year by the Metropolitan Drinking Fountain ' and Cattle Trough Association in London.