Judge — October 1935 — page 27: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

I STOOD wh rely 3 are my excitement with Barbara and earn the consummating laurel of feminine ac- claim. A corre: story wri submitted story b: nm enc ing, friendly letter! n't expected to sell the first—if my tenth attempt had won anything in the rejection line more personal than the conventional printed slip, I'd have considered it success for a fellow not twenty-one. And here was my maiden effort gaining attention as follows: pondence course in short SATTERLEE'S The Brown Publishing Company Leader Building New York City 16 September 1933 Dear Mr. Purdy: rry this has to go back to you, but the idea isr you try us ag Sincerely yours, Frank Gaff, Fiction Departmer Mr. Clyde Purdy, 83 Elm Street, East Melton, Massachusetts. HISTLING, I vaulted into my roadster, yanked the venerable nergency at Barbara’ dled up her steps. 's house, and hur- Overcome by the anticipation of her amazement and pride, I thrust my letter her mutely and sat very close to her ona davenport while she read it thro “Gaff,” she commented. “I went to school with a girl named Gaff. Wonder if they are related.” T don't kr " T said. “Why does he put your name and things down below instead of up above? And look how he puts the sixte front of the September instead of tember sixteenth, Isn't th: “Yes,” T said. She perused further ward again slightly “Where's the Le: inquired. “T don’t know,” I confessed. “Silly they don’t put the street. I shouldn't think their mail would get to them ina place like New York. Should you?” “No,” I said. “T don’t think I'd like New York,” Barbara vouched, disposing of the let- ter upon my knees. “Have you ever been there unre t dumb T leaned for- Building?” she replied. ess speedily to Fran's, but drove Loeal Boy Make By J. Deitrick Good with rekindled faith ing shallow sympathetic Stebbs, Fran was the girl to under- stand a fellow’s feeli Involuntarily up Main Street under Harry the Cop's There was noth- about Fran nose, my foot on the accelerator bore | with a trifle more weight. Fran met me on her porch and with a soft hand led me indoors. Installed beside her, I proffered my treasure, con- trolling my expression, silent for full effect. Fran read, and her interested face fell. She laid her hand on my arm again, “Too bad,” she said ger LEFT presently, For several blocks I drove without purpose. Then, wist- fully, [ changed course for Betty's. No sweetheart sort, Betty.—and quick a flash to interpret masculine moods. would recognize instantly the fit- ss of rejoicin A small sister admitted me to the hall. I watched for Betty to appear from the living-room where I heard feminine chatter, but she came downstairs like a cyclone and swept me into the ¢ room. “Mamma’s having a bridge party, You've got good news! What the dic ens are you acting so happy about?” In a rush of strangely tender senti- ment, I drew my trophy from a pocket. Betty snatched it, bobbing. ve it here, I She didn’t. Waving it, she catapulted into the living-room. “Mamma! Mrs. Ames! Mrs, Gleesor Hey, everybody! Clyde sold a story! an't wait—” HEN TI had escaped, a lion the more hailed because of my mod- est protests, T toured grimly for half an hour, a man alone. But youth is tenaci- ous about its dreams, There remained who might perceive glory in its proper measure, one sou I climbed over my car door, trod savagely, and headed dourly for Doc Robinson's drug store. Locked in my own consciousness henceforth should be my triumphs. Even when I sold a story, no one should ever know. The doc, sixty, and toothless, leaned over his soda counter and plucked the letter from my pocket. “What's this you got, summons?” He read. He peered at me. “Pretty good starter, ain't it, for a young feller?” Say,” I said, “you got any idea how long it ordinarily takes ’em to notice you enough to write you a letter like that?” 25 SwiFr, SKILLED, COURTEOUS SERVICE She is one of 100,000 operators in the Bell System—local oper- ators, special operators for the dial system, toll operators, in- formation operators and many others—all specialists in giving you efficient telephone service. The alert, friendly voice of the operator is familiar to all who use the telephone. Through the years it has come to mean more than a voice. It is the symbol of politeness and efficiency. The operators in the Bell System are carefully trained. But there is something more to it than training—a spirit of loyalty and of pride in render- ing an important service. This spirit is ever-present—it has brought especially high com- mendation in time of emer- gency. Truly the telephone operators have been called ‘Weavers of Speech.” BELL TELEPHONE SYSTEM There are 270,000 workers in the Bell System, ‘The 100,000 operators can serve you as they do because of the apecialized ability of 170,000 other employees—installers, linemen, repair- men, construction crews, engineers, commercial office workers and the many thousands engaged in research, manufacture and management. comicbooks.com