Newspaper Page Text
Th 1
e Business Career of
P Squi ‘
eter dquint
By C. B. Quincy }
ONFIDENCE,” says the Manual of Business Efficlency, *¥s the
“ greatest secret of guccess. When you try to seli A man
( : snything, approach him confident that you will make a sale.
The same rule applies when you go after a job. |
Hitherto the only job I had landed was banded out to me because
the boss had known my unecle, which is no business reason at all, and a
thing severely condemned by the manual. Nevertheless, it had helped
me to feel more confident. The rest of this aftermoon I spent practising
additional confidence. | repeated over and over again to myself the
maxims which the Manual says have an unfaiimg result: !
1 MUST SUCCEED |
1 CAN DELIVER THE GOODE (
I AM UTTERLY CONFIDENT. ‘
THE JOB IS MINE. | |
Next morning 1 decided to get a job with Joshna Beeser, Inc., so |
went around to the Beeser Building bright and early. |
Golng up in the elevator the man called out: “Floor, please?™ I 'll‘
so absorbed in becoming confident that | answered: "!mmmi
goods.” :
“Take the freight slevator,” the operator responded.
“I must succeed,” | muttered. ‘
“Whaaat? What d'ye want?” the man hollered. |
“l want Joshua Beeser, Inc.” ‘
I noticed the fellow looked at me strangely, but he stopped the eas
before a door on which was lettered JOSHUA BEEZER. INC. |
As | opened the door 1 kept munmuring to myself “l am utterly con
fident—l am utterly confident™-— ‘
A red-haired boy came to the gate. ‘
“Whadyas want?' he asked. “We didn’t call no messenger.”
“The job is mine,” I had kept repeating mechanically.
. “No job is yours, nix, notstall,” said the red-haired boy. *“I just told
ya we didn't call no messenger.”
“Messenger!” Was I, with my heart full of confidenge and my feet
now-—practically—on the first round of success’s ladder, to be treated as
& wandering messenger boy! .Not go. My blood boiled, but I managed
to say politely--the Manual enjoins unvarying politeness—“l should like
to see Mr. Joshua Beezer, please.”
“Ah,” sald the red-baired boy, “you wanta see Mr. Joshua Beeser,
sh? Won't one of the “Inc’'s’ be all right?
“No,” | answered, forgetting momentarily the precepts of the Manual.
“No, you red-haired young shrimp, one of the ‘lnc’s’ won't do. 1 want to
see Mr. Joshua Beeser personally”
“Well, in that case,” retorted the boy, “you’ll have to run out to Ever
hope Cemetery, for the Beezers’ have been dead over ten years™
A couple of the stenographers tittered.
“And 1 ain’t no red-haired shrimp neither ™
1 was so mad I forgot all about the Manual
“You are, too,” 1 yelled.
“I ain't, neither.”
1 slapped his face. |
We fell over the rall, knocked over a desk, and had all the girls
screaming as we wrestled around. But before much damage could de
done the door opened and in came the elevator man with a special
officer.
“There, | knowed it,” ssid the ‘elevator man. “I knowed this fellow
was an anarchist or spy or sumpin. Tells me he's goin’ to deliver the
goods and looks loony as he says he must succeed. And here he's been
nabbed by this here hero.”
The spectsl officer had me by the collar and he, too, addressed the
red-haired kid. “You done noble,” he said. “Twouldn't surprise me none
it you gets a reward for baffling this desprit villain.”
“Oh, 'tain't nothin',” answered the red-haired boy. “I knowed from
readin’' Chapter IX. of the Manual of Detective Deduction that he was a
dangerous character soon as he opened his trap”
So he studied » manual, also. / -
. . . v
There wasn't much more to tell. The judge let me go right away,
because he knew my uncle! |
That doesn’t seem llke justice to me, but I didn't stop to argur
about it.
But if 1 ever meet that red-haired detective kid! ‘
' Not Useless. 1
“FATHER," said an inquiring youth, “when a hen sits on’'an egg f 0)
three weeks and it don't hateh, is the egg spoiled?”
' “As an article of diet, my son, it is henceforth a failure, but for politi |
eal purposes it has its uses.”
Unkind. |
THEY were newly wed, and were showing their friends over their little |
home. Bach room in turn was inspected. Last on the list came the
kitchen. The little wife waxed eloguent.
“You see,” she said, “that i where I do all my ecooking. And this is
the very basin in which I mix my cakes.”
"And this,” cried the young man, indicating the oven with a W‘p |
of his arm, “is the brickklin!" |
True to Form.
THE average man treats spiritualism as a joke, The story is told of & |
widow who tried to get in touch with her deceased husband. |
The medium, after a good deal of futile work, said to the widow:
“The conditions this evening seem unfavorable. I can't seem to establish
communication with Mr. Smith, ma'am.”
“Waell, I'm not surprised,” sald the widow, with a glance at the clock.
“It's only half-past eight now, and John never did show up till about 2
ia”
A Little Hard of Hearing.
TWO ladies, one of whom was very deaf, were walking by the rallway,
Suddenly an express train rushed by, and as it passed the engine gave
a shriek that seemed to rend the sky. The lady’'s ears were nearly split,
but the deaf one turned to her suffering friend and sald, with a happy
smile:
“That's the first robin I've heard this Spring.” |
Couldn’'t Understand It.
“BILL." said the heavy tragedian of a travelling theatrical company,
while peering through the curtain, “the house is just about empty.”
“Can't understand that,” reflected the comedian. ‘““We've never been
here before, have we?"”
Took It For a Bign.
"HERE js a fine new building of white marble and Greek architecture
» in a Western city. On the cornerstone is engraved the date of the
bullding’s erection. It was begun in 1909, but, following the usual custom,
the date is in Roman capitals, thus: MCMIX.
The other day one citizen approached another and asked him if he
had seen their common friend Danny that day.
*1 sure did,” replied the second man. “A few minutes ago I seen him
~ standing in front of McMix's new building over there on the corner.”
’ A True Bill.
jUDGI‘-—-Whu is the verdiet of the jury?
Foreman—Your Honor, the jury are all of one mind—temporarily
. insane.
HEARST’S SUNDAY AMERICAN -— A Newspaper tor People Who Think — SUNDAY, JANUARY 27, 1918.
Those Tired Business Men By Tad
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The Podunk Philosophers
on War
6 EST fer a guess,” began Ben
Phelps, making his cow-
J bides sizzle against the
stove in Uncle Bilas Wiggin's Gen
oral Store at Podunk Village, “how
much longer do ye think this
here''——
“War will last?’ finished Jeff
Weeks with & snort. “There,” he
added, turning to Abmer Heath,
“didn’t I tell ye Ben wouldn't mor'n
Elt sot before he started off on this
here war tal?™
“What of it, hey ?” demanded Ben,
glaring at the others. “I guess
there's two or three others in this
here world a talkin' on the same
subjec’ right this minnit.”
“Goshamitey, ain’t there enough
other things to talk about? de
manded Jeff,
“What, f'instance?’ Uncle Silas
asked pleasantly, as he closed his
ledger, came out from behind the
counter and joined the trio.
“Oh, business, or crops, or ships,
or wimmin, or pork an’ beans, or a
thousand other things’'——
“They all lead right smack up to
war,” insisted Ben. “‘Business is all
shifted ‘round on account of th’
war. We can’t mention crops with
out tellin' 'bout not enough cars to
move ‘em, or th' seventy million
bushels of wheat we gotter go short
on to feed th' allles an’' nootruls.
And as fer ships—all we read about
is buildin’ 'em, or sinkin’ 'em, or
blowin’ ‘em up, or workers strikin’
on 'm"_...-.-
“But th* wimmin"——-
“Ye say ‘wimmin” interrupted
Uncle Silas, pleasantly, “an’ ye haf
ter mention knittin’, or Red Cross,
or mothers an’ wives, or would-be
wives th' boys has left behind.”
“Wa'al, pork an’ beans, then?™
demanded Jeff.
“l feed my men on pork an’
beans,” sung Abner Heath, from
that classic concerning one Captain
Jenks and his “Hoss Marines,”
whereupon they all laughed.
“Jest th’ same, we'll all be glad
when there ain’t no war’——
“We'll all be dead when there
aln't no war,” declared Ben.
“Ye's a downright pessermist,
Ben,” growled Abner. “This here
war won't last more'n a couple of
years''
“Thar always has been war, an’
fur's I ¢'n see, thar always will
be"'——
“Oh, no, Ben—not always,” inter
rupted Jefl.
“Ben's right,” said Uncle Silas,
“thar's been war of some kind right
from th' start, right from th’ time
Adam an' Eve an’' th' sarpint dis
agreed over th' apple. Read hist'ry
~it's all war. Th' Old Testament's
chuck full ot armies and battles,
four hundred thousand, an' when
Joshua was first capturin’ this same
Jerusalem th' British took a while
| ago, twenty-five thousand was killed
In one day"——
; “Aw, he didn’t fight fair. He
- wan't satisfied to knock off fightin’
at sundown an' call it a day-—no
lsiree." declared Jeff. “He made
th’ sun stand still an’ kept right on.”
“But that's what ! said—a war [
armies’ ——
“No, Ben, not always. Thar"
labor wars, an’ business wars, an
matrimonial wars, an’ a millior
othefkinds. 1 tell ye th’ old world’s
full of strife an’ war, an’ if there
ain't no armies a fightin’, then th
people are fightin' some othe:
way''——
Uncle Silas paused to fill his pipe
“Should think you'd get all-fired
sick of so much war talk, Uncle
Sl,” sald Jeff.
‘“Why don’t ye git one o' them
cards I see in th’ city which says
‘No War Talk Here'?' queried Ben.
“Let 'em talk it here, but 1 wish
1 had one to put in ev'ry home.
Make folks cut out their war talk
an’ live peaceful”—
“Folks can fight without talkin'.
Thar was th’ Blakes, deef an’ dumb,
both of ’em, yet they fit all th’
time.”
“Wa'al, Ben, les’ you an’ I have a
game o' checkers, an’ Uncle Si an’
Abner look on an’' stop war talk
f'r a few minnits,” suggested Jeff
8o they got out the checker board
and started in.
“Don’t let me fergit to take home
some. salt fish,” Abner reminded
Unele Silas.
“Got nothin’ but them bricks,
three pounds f'r eighty cents”——
“Thunderashun! Sirloin beef:
steak’s cheaper’'n that,” grumbled
Abner. “What makes ye charge so
much .
“War prices. High price o’ meat
give th' fish men a chane't to hoost
prices’——
“This here war sorter gits on my
nerves,” confessed Abner:
“Your move,” said Ben.
““Taint either. It's your move,*
insisted Jeff.
“I tell ye it ain't"——
“An’ T know a dum-site better,™
yelled Jeff.
“Looks like they'd go over th' top
in a minnit,” chuckled Uncle Silas.
“Say.” queried Ben, “didjer read
oout them boys goin’ cut inter no
man's land an”™——
“That's old,” scorned Jeff. ““Th’
most interestin’ thing was th’' way
they're bein' driv back"—-——\
“No, they hain't"——
“l guess I ¢'n read, you num
head. I tell ye if somethin’ ain’t
done mighty quick ye'll see great
reverses’——
“See yer grandmother—they've,
got 'em backin’ offen th’ map"-—
“You know’s much 'bout tactics
as a hog knows 'bout tattin”——rmo
“If 1 didn’t know more'n you
rq"—-
“Aw, shut up"—
“Boys!™ yelled Uncle Silas, and
when he raised his voice from his
usual mild tones every one pald at
tention.
“Let's all make a drive inter no
man's land in th* back room and
lead a spirited attack on my rum
barl!”
And without a flicker the grizzled
heroes made that spirited attack
and completely surrounded a big
hooker of thelr enemy, Demon Rum.
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““Tad’s’’ Funny Pictures Also Appear in The Georgian.
F every girl cannot have an
Ihonest to goodness dead lan
guage college education, at least
a great majority of them have
plaip, simple business college edu
cations. That is, they are supposed
to if their diplomas which hang
above the mantlepiece in the par
lor, where their best beaux can
give it the once over, can be taken
at its face value. The only bad
part of a diploma is the date, which
usually reveals a girl's age and
which disappears from the wall
very soon after graduation.
Any business man who is not
afraid of his wife and employs a
pretty stenographer will tell you
that stenographers who have made
a special study of shorthand and
typewriting are highly proficient in
calling up their gentlemen friends,
in penning love letters, in reading
bristling, snappy stories and In
powdering their faces. In fact,
they are proficlent in everything
but in what they are paid to do.
This, of course, is only natural in
a woman. They are expected to
If you see it in
The Clarion, it may
be so.
VOL. 1.
LACK OF HOMES HERE MIGHT BE RELIEVED IN A FEW YEARS
BK WILLY BALTHALL.
About the middle of Au
gust the home situation
reached an acute stage—
walting lines in real estate
brokers' offices extended
from the desks to the stair
ways and in some cases,
out in the streets. Those in
line were served as fast as
possible, but it was evident
that other measures must
be taken to relieve the sit
uation,
Numerous ap&eals» had
been made to ‘ashington
and the extreme serious
ness of the shortage in
houses was pointed out.
The senior Senator from the
State called personally on
the President, asking that
relief measures be adopted
at once.
The President decided to
appoint a house administra
tor who should take charge
of the situation. In making
the appointment the Presi
dent said: “May I not be
permitted to state that in
taking this action, no re
flection is intended on the
real estate agents. They
have done everything in
their power to induce Teople
to purchase homes while the
aurply was ample and the
price attractive. They have
urged builders to erect more
dwellings. and have repeated.
Iy pointed out the seriousness
of the house problem.”
Dr. Horace Grant was ap
pointed Federal house ad
ministrator in Atlanta. tak
ing charge at once. He es
tablished an office in the City
Hall and proceeded to take
up his duties.
His first action was to
make a survey of the house
situation—compiling a list of
all the available suppiy. Al
real estate agents were re
quired to report at once the
stock on hand. Several brok
ers had no houses whatever,
their entire available supply
having been sold or contract
ed for.
Turman & Calhoun re{»ort.
ed six houses in stock. M. C.
Kiser & Company had four:
Smith & Ewing has one, and
Stenographers
know the direct opposite to what
they are to do.
A stenographer knows how to
spell almost as well as a savage,
only she is permitted to make more
errors, Any stenographer can
misspell the same word more times
than the newspapers can print re
ports of Villa’s death. As a speller
she’s a distinct rarity and as un
common as the Pzanxjuipa, an ani
mal which never lived. But as far
as speed is concerned, they're
speedy enough, but not on the type
writer. On the machine they will
never be arrested for speeding. On
the contrary, they are more apt to*
be pulled in for blocking traffic.
A stenpgrapher’s best friend is an
eraser.
A stenographer is a girl who is
well versed in geography and usu
ally plades the city of Bombay in
France, Naples in Spain and Tan
glers in Nova Scotia. Some of
them heard of Sanskrit or prose,
but they are not sure whether fit
was written by Elinor Glyn or Bea
trice Fairfax. The only grammar
The Capital City Clarion
ATLANTA, GA., JANUARY 27, 1918
e | nu\ g \’ Loon ovY GOVERMOR -
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J. L. Logan had two.
It was found that six thou
sand new families had moved
to Atlanta, and freight ter
minals were congested with
household goods.
The bulleers were mobil
ized to sek what could be
expected in the way of new
houses. A. H. Bailey had a
brick bungalow under way,
but has already sold it, Mrs.
Nora G. Webb had a dupiex
residence half finished and
several hundred applicants
for it. Buck Daniel said he
was expecting a carload of
lumber from South Georgia
and would be ready to start
building in about a month.
Dillin & Morris had one bun
galow on Virginia avenue. A
wholesale lumber dealer re
ported that he bhad some
trees growing, which would
be available for lumber in a
few years; the outlook was
rather discouraging.
At this stage, C. Wi Me-
Clure wrote a card to the
newsfapers offering to take
on all the stock on hand and
retail at cost. He called on
o
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gar/7 N\ il S
A Journal of Uplift
THE CHOPPERS
the Governor to commandeer
all building materials, and
put the State conviets to
work building houses. “If I
were Governor I would sel!
houses for five and ten
cents,” he is quoted as say
ing.
Applicants for houses wait
ed in a long line at Dr. Hor
ace Grant’s office and pri
ority cards were issued; a
purple card was given to
those living in tents; a green
card to those whose furniture
was in the street; where not
more than ten families were
living in one house, a pink
card was issued for these, to
be served last. Before ob
taining a pink card, the ap
plicant must make affidavit
that not fewer than ten fam
ilies were living in one
house: other applications
were not considered.
Walter Mason was ordered
to shut down his tile plant,
S 0 as to conserve the supply
as much as possible, -
Many of the wealthiest
families in the city were
sleeping in- limousines. A
they know is atrocious, but some
times they are almost led to believe
that a verb should agree with its
noun. Adjectives and {interroga
tives are out of their line, although
they have the former, like “cutey”
and “honey’” thrust at them all the
time, and are themselves always
asking the latter.
Most bosses do not know how or
haven't the heart to fire their
stenographers, so they tolerate
them until driven to desperation
and then, as the easiest way out,
marry them.
Two Sides of the Triangle.
THE illuminated sign of an up
town movie house last week
bore the following announcement:
“An Account of a Woman and
Fatty Arbuckle.”
oOld George Kerr says it wasn't
a married man who emitted the
groan that “Christmas comes but
once a year."”
Edited by M. T
Noodle and his able
assistants,
public meeting was held and
speeches of indignation
made. Omne speaker brought
out the uck that bank de
posits in tlanta totaled
eighty million dollars, yet the
people have no place to sleep.
“What good does all our
money do us, if we have no
homes,” said one speaker.
Charges of hoarding were
made against prominent citi
zens and threats were openly
ex&ressed.
Mrs. Tona House, the well
known suffragette, addressed
a meeting and counseled
moderation. She stated that
for months past real estate
agen&s had advertised homes
at less than value, but ne
heed has been paid to their
offerings. People had ae
quired the wrong idea of
thrift and had been piling up
bank accounts instead of
buying useful things. Real
estate brokers were absolved
from blame.
1t is thought that with the
extreme measures taken, the
situation will be relieved
within a few years.
Toot-Toot!
Ding-Dong!
Ing-ir'ong.
’‘Board
oard!
HE U. 8. Limited is under way
T with Uncle Sam as president,
general passenger agent, su
perintendent, traffic manager, tick
et agent, baggageman, engineer,
~ brakeman and conductor. It ought
to be a grand trip.
~ We are all graa to see the ola
man getting into the railroad bosi
? ness at last, and we hope he will
} never get out of it. We hope that,
ilnthno.hevmbotheon}ynfl
| road owner {n the United States.
And now that he is running the
‘ business, we dare speak up and
ask for what we want. Nobody is
‘ afraid to ask favors of the old boy,
~ while the fellows who used to run
} the raflroads were rather unap
proachable, Did you ever ask a
ticket agent in Kalamazoo whether
No. 17 would get in on time?
.~ As a representative of the Amal
gamated Order of Patient Passen
l gers, we hereby ask Uncle Sam to
; make some needed improvements,
We mention only a few. There are
several thousand others which we
will mention from time to time, and
if Uncle keeps busy he may bring
about an ideal state of affairs by
1932.
Here are our first requests:
Teach the brakemen how to
speak English, so that a man who
wants to get off at Schoharie will
not get off at Schenectady.
Make it obligatory upon the por
ter to hit the passenger at least
| three times with the whisk broom
instead of merely waving it and
holding out the other hand. Pres
ent-day porters all think a whisk
broom is a flag.
Have the diner in the middle of
the train instead of at the tail end,
so that when a passenger is going
from Cleveland to Chicago he won't
have to walk back as far as Erie
to get his breakfast,
Have all extrafare trains ten
hours late so the passengers can
collect a rebate once in a while,
Have some hot water in the hot
water spigot in the sleeper wash
room. This would be an interest
ing innovation.
Have one sleeper for the excln
sive use of persons who imitate
the beasts of the jungle, the birds
of the air and motorcycles in their
sleep.
Make it a crime punishable by
life imprisonment for a man to go
to sleep in the day coach with his
feet sticking out in the aisle,
Give the passenger something
beside the table in the table d’hote.
Have the barber chalrs screwed
tightly to the floor, so the shavee
can stay in it when the train hits
a curve. This hag never been done.
The tickets are now too short
and too easfly lost. Have the
ticket from Detroit to New York
four feet long so the passenger can
tie it around his walst, instead of
only two and a haif feet long as at
present.
Have the upper berths closer to
the ceiling, so the passenger will
have something to brace his knees
against.
Have the staterooms large
enough so the passenger will not
bave to go out into the car to un
dress after the berth has been
made up.
No. 36
No Accident.
anfl West Texas town, out
in she Cap Rock country, interest
was cemtered abont the registration
booth, and the atmosphere was be<
coming pratty solemm and funereal
when a wellsst-up young cowman
clidkad up to ths official in chargse
and gewve a wellkuown name.
Glibly answering the questions
put to him, h® was mst with the
gquestion:
“Bver had any accidents?”
“Accidents? Nope,”
“Never had am acdident in your
life?” B
“Nope. Ratfler bt m® once.™
‘“Don’t you call that an accident?”
continued the questioner, eyeing
the easy-going young fellow severe
ly.
“No! The darn fhing bit me on
purpose’™
His Place in the Draft.
Tnm: Registration day. Placs:
Small town in southern Illinois.
He was a gentleman of color, and
the registrar was having consider
able trouble expizining the whys
and wherefores of the registration.
At last Rastus showed a faint glim
mer of intelligence.
“Dis heyah registrashim o’ da
draf am a whols lot liks lection
votin’, ain't 117 he asked uncer
tainty.
“Yes,” answered the kindly regis
trar.
Rastus scratched his head in
troubled doubt. He was thinking
deeply. Presently his brow dleared
and a smile spread over hiz face.
He had come to a decision.
“Den I votes fer Julinus Jackson
ter be drafted,” he said “T nebak
did hab no use fo’ 4at niggah "