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Newspaper Page Text
By Harold Carter.
"Say, what do you think you are,
anyway? A common saleswoman,
that's what you are; and let me tell
you, Miss Cloughy-yjou hold your job
by my will see? I can put you out of
this store so quick vou won't know
"You Needn't Come Back After
where you're at. Now, you just think
that proposition over!"
Mr. Alfred Bantam adjusted his
Prince Albert and walked away from
the linen counter, while Miss Anna
Clough quietly went on measuring
yards of superfine Belfast linen, as
though the floorwalker's words had
been addressed to empty air.
But when she got home that night
she gave way to despair that had
been growing for weeks past, ever
since she had discovered that Mr.
Bantam was interested in her.
It was nearly four months since
Marshall & Rogers had given her a
position in the store. Old Marshall
had been a friend of her dead father
in the old days, before Charles Clough
lost his fortune and blew out his
; brains on the same dreary afternoon
when stocks went tumbling down like
a house of cards. After her father's
death the insurance money, some
three thousand dollars, had been
spent to put Anna Clough through
college. "I think that is the best
way, my dear," her mother had said
to her. "And then, of course, you
will be able to earn a good living."
But before she could graduate and
so obtain that diploma which would
enable her to place her mother and
herself beyond need Mrs. ClougTi had
become an invalid. The doctor's bill
ate up the last vestiges of the money.
Mrs. Clough would never leave her
bed or her wheeled chair again. And
in desperation the girl had gone to
Junius Marshall, reminding him of
his former friendship for her father.
Junius Marshall looked thoughtful
ly at the girl.
"Well, I'd like to do something for
you, Miss Clough, for your father's
sake," he said. "But it is a rule of
our store that everybody has to be
gin at the beginning and work up
ward. That gives experience, you
know. Now if you would be willing
to start as a saleslady I'll keep you
So the girl entered the store in the
same capacity as the fifty others who
were engaged that fall, and for weeks
she labored at the linen counter, hap
py in the hope that Marshall would
some day announce the anticipated
Lucy Connor, her" only friend, had
laughed at her expectations.
"Say, take my tip," she said,
"Marshall won't do anything for you.
He hands out that tale to all the girls.
They all know Macshall. He hasn't
any more remembrance of you than
he- has of me."