THE STORYTELLER

Hastings Standard, Volume XIII, Issue 4204, 10 July 1909, Page 1 (Supplement)

THE STORYTELLER

DISCHARGING MARTHA

The first applicant to respond to Brice and Pendleton's advertisement for an otfiee-girl appeared fairly promising to Tom Page, who was too busy with tax-titles to look very closely at the young woman ; so Martha Pratt, with ''country-bred" written all ever lier, was promptly engaged. At first Martha's innumerable mistakevs were ascribed to her newness; hut 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 now 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 bettor toll tho girl, too. Of course we'll give her a week's warning." Martha, however, entertained no suspicion of this threatening ttate of affairs when, tho next morning, she bounced into that quiet office, carrying three substantial buttonliole-biquet-. "My grandmother sent them," beamed good-natured Martha, presenting her solid gifts, without a trace of either coquetry or partiality, to Mr. Brice, Mr. Pendleton, and Tom Pago. ''They are fresh from the country." Elderly Mr. Brioe glared at the mat-tor-of-fact girl, Pendleton made queer, embarrassed no'ses in his thnat; Tom Page, controlling with difficulty the twitching corners of his mouth, pinned his unexpected gift to tho lapel of his coat. Martha, observing nothing and apparently satisfied with herself, retired to her own corner. Indeed, Martha was not observant. Perhaps if she had been, she would have made a more satisfactory assistant. As it was, she had much to learn; but unfortunately, no one in that bnsv office possessed either the time or the 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 was always in confusion. Her figures staggered down the page like a rail fence on end. Her writing was smeared with blots. She eyed these with goodnatured tolerance.' "I never could use ink without spelling it," she confessed to Tom Pago. "We Pratts are generous even with car ink.'" Yet, in spite of tho general untidiness of Martha's belongings, about the girl herself there was a clean who'esomenefs that was rather pleasing. She was not a pretty girl. Her countenance was tco bread, too freckled, too ruddy for beauty; but the lines of her large mouth were neatly cut, and her big brown eyes fairly beamed with honesty and kindliness. However, in tho frigid atmosphere of Brire and Pendleton's it was not customary for the clerks to beam with anything. Tom Page had recognised that fact at once, and had promptly suppressed his own natural tendency toward exuberance. But Martha, who lacked Tom's keen perception, remained her simple, kindly, radiant, and disorderly self. Of course neither Mr. Brice nor Mr. Pendleton, with Martha's unwelcome gift perched on his desk, could bring himself to the point of mentioning 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 appeared one morning with six splendid, big, red apples, in a plebian yellow paper big. "Uncle Ben sent them," explained Martha, who, in spite of the annoim-d fact that she was an orphan, sc-* ed bountifully supplied with country relatives. ' There fcn'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; PTiin Mr. Pendletoji_m2do_fllia££^aflli r t mp unwrapped on MrTßriee's sacred desk. It was a pie—a huge, thick, eokkn pumpkin pie with a tender, fluted crust. "Aunt Julia made it,'"' confided radiant Martha "I noticed you had a cold, Mr. Pendleton, and I thought this pie might save you going out to lunch; but there's plenty for all—wait, here's a knife and three forks. This is all your pie; I had mine for breakfast." It was certain that in pic had ever before been eaten in the formal, business! ke atmosphere of th it expenuvelyfurnished office. But, litt'o as the idea appealed to them, the throo nonplussed men ate Aunt Julia's handiwork and found it extremely good. Martha's numerous relatives, it developed, wcro net only generous, but well-to-do. They were fond of amb'tious, orphaned Martha; and, being kindly disposed generally, were interested in her employers. Thev 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 anv of the Prat to. During the noon hour one day the three men found themselves alone. "Pendleton." said Mr. Brice, eyeing the golden russet pear on his desk, "that woodenheaded girl is buying us." "Yes," agreed Mr. Pendleton, glancing at the twin par on his own desk, ''she certainly is: but she doesn't know it—l'm convinced of that." ' Perhaps not," returned Brice, doubtfully; "but the fact remains that we've 1 oen bought. What are we going to do about it? I—well—l can't eat a pear like this and then deliberately crush the donor." "It's a tough proposition/' admitted Pendleton. ' There's a first-rate girl in Hooper's," suggested Tom Page, "that we could have for the asking. They're cutting down their office force. W© could let Miss Pratt do the drudg?ry—there's enough of it. and she's certainly willing enough. That would let her down by degrees, and give us the efficient help that we lack at present." Thus weakly temporising, tho partners aerreed to this plan- The new eirl. Miss Emmons, proved all that Martha was not. Neat, slender, ef-

ficient, self-contained, Miss Emmons was like a piece of well-oiled office furniture. Within 48 hours of her arrival. Messrs. Brice and Pendleton were all but oblivious to the fact that Miss Emnions existed. They did realise, however, that tho office work was going with unprecedented smoothness. Martha realised it aho. But Martha could not regard the newcomer with indifference. To the deposed clerk, Miss Emmons was a revelation. Her clothes, her reserved yet assured manner, most of all her systematic neatness, profoundly impressed country-bred Martha. There was no doubt about her unstinted admiration for Miss Emmons. Martha 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 by leaps and bounds. "By jove!" said Tom Page. "I never supposed sho had it in her oi* 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 she was merely raw and green. They say that width between the eyes denotes intelligence; the with's there, all right. But, of course, Brice and Pendleton's is no kindergarten for greenhorns; we couldn't bo expected to teach her. But'she's certainly picking P There was no doubt about it, Martha was "picking up." But in one respect she was still unchanged. Russet pears from Unci© Rowan, Baldwin apples from Uncle Ben, Aunt Julia's famous pumpkin pies, and bouquets from Grandma Pratt'e- luxuriant houseplants, continued to invade the office. Whenever one of these incongruous gifts arrived, Miss Emmons wore a superior smile, jvhich Tom Page easily interpreted, but to which Martha remained sublimely impervious. The thanks of Miss Emmons for her share in these gifts were delicately ironical. This a!s> mi.-sed fire w:th honest Martha. One morning the usually prompt Mr. Brice arrived late. It was evident to tho least observant that he was suffering from a stiff neck. Mr. Brice at his best was an unapproachable person; Mr. Brice in pain was formidable even to his most courageous relativo. Mr. Pendleton wisely postponed certain business matters that he had intended to mention; Tom Page quietly effaced himself; Miss Emmons as quietly became 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 all possessed. I'm real sorry for you." Mr. Brice glowered, Mr. Pendleton gulped, Tom Page controlled his treacherous lips. Miss Emmons shot a satir.cal yet guarded glance in Tom Page b direction. . . "Don't worry," assured oblivious Martha ; "it won't last long." That noon Martha was late; she TVas likewise flushed and dishevelled from unusual exertion. She placed a tail,, brown bottle on Mr. Brico's highlypolished desk. . "Sorrv I'm late," she said, easily; "but I'had to go way out to Cousin Sarah Calliper's for this mature. It e tho best stuff ever made for stiff necks. Take off your collar and rub the liniment on the cords. Don t be afraid; Cousin STrail made it herself.

Even on tho hottest day of midsummer Mr. Brice had, never committed the- improprietry ot removing Ins coat or loocening his collar m that austere office, but- now, under Martha s compelling eye, the collar came ott, the evil-sme'lirig liniment went on. "Now," said Martha, producing a compact roll of coarse flannei, ' wrap this about your neck." mt. .Brice, still glowering, ebeyed. There was simpiy nothing ebe to <io with those kmoiy, insistent brown eyes him. Mr. Pend-eton considI ( -Mtoty removed himself irom the pre- : Ulkea j Tom Page discovered instant j and ■ -iw'is Uusine-s within the nre--1 uroot -iuit. 1 At Mitervals durinp; iV- ait-moou .a insisted on trash ■a-aosi'i.g relative Would Tfivc he- - _aw u, ■(a ..iat.'M- Oi hie and dnth- o ask H in can v a parcel, walked ,*'ek-'y ■K <K the 'office with a Di**«*owu Rotfcio distending th© pocket,®#* his 1 faultless coat. A muffler, impulsively ! borrowed by Martha, from Tom Page, f mercifully concealed the red flannel, i And then Miss Emmons, who ieit i that matters had gone far enough, I turned to beaming Martha. In cotd, I cutting, unmistakeable words she told her that she was a simple-minded greet)hern.; that office girls were expected to work, nob to conciliate their employers with foolish 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 tho apples, the pears, the pumpkin pies, and the brown liniment. She mad,; poor Martha see how ludicrous a thin? 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 some such lesson; but, as the well-aimed blows landed neaily, the girl fairly staggered under the battery. "I—l didn't know," she gaspsd. Then, plunging blindly into her wraps. Martha fled toward the elevator. ''That was a hanged shame," confided Tom Pago to th© contents of his desk. "No man could have knifed her like that."

Thereafter, there were 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 outward'y as impassive as Mi-s Emmons herself. Then came the startling days of the panic. Brico and Pendleton found themselves suddenly and uncomfortably involved. For a week even obtuse Martha could see that Messrs. Brice and l endleton were exceedingly troubled, one gathered vaguely that an alarmingly large sum of money was needed for immediate contingency; that the money was not forthcoming, and that the world in general was not to b© apprised of the pressing need. She learned, too, that both Mr. Brice and Mr. Pendleton had tried, and failed, to secure a largo portion of the amount needed, and that both men were surprised, shocked, and bewildered at finding the firm in this unlooked-for predicament. But Martha was now sophisticated. She knew 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 iron-clad employer

to sink with human aid in sight. A month previously, the task would have seemed simple. Now, enlightened by Miss Emmons, Martha found it exceedingly hard to extend to the drowning man her straw, even though it proved, like her apples, pears, and pies, rather a substantial straw. Yet, gathering all her courage, she forceel herself to cross the room under the lire of Miss Emmon's hard, inquiring eyes and to stand, inwardly cringing, beside Mr. Brice's desk. "Mr. Brice,' she said, abject in her consciousness and crimsoning and paling by turns, "I know now that it isn't proper, for me to offer to do anything more in this office than you toll me to do. I've learned that —and I'm awfully sorry I ha.vo learned it, because we Pratts like to do things for others. I guess it's jiart of our religion out in Ridgeway; "but I see now that it isn't that way in towns. But—but—well, would eighteen thousand dollars be of any use to you P" •'Use!' gasped Mr. Brice, clutching tho arms of his chair. "Use! Why, girl, if I could have that sum before noon to-morrow it would just about save Brice and Pendleton!" "Well," returned Martha, now as calm as if she were lightly proffering eighteen cents, "Uncie Ben, Uncle Rowan, and Uncle Harry—he's Aunt Jul a's husband—could lend you that much money and hold their tongues about it. If you'll ride out to Ridgeway with mo 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 surburban car. "That girl," said Mr. Pendleton, recovering 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 Emmons "No," shouted Mr. Pendleton and Tom in chorus.—By Carroll Watson Rankin, in the "Century Magazine."