Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 7, 1928 — page 121: what you’re looking at

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

CHIVALRY ON delegate all your work to Linden and keep that chair in your office warm on a salary of ten thousand a year. “We'll give you a week’s time to find another job. We can’t conscien- tiously recommend you as an executive, but we can vouch for you as a salesman. If such a recommendation will do you any good in your search for employ- ment, we will be glad to give it. “Tinden,” he concluded, ¥ you will assume the duties of salesmanager when Mr. Barker leaves. In future, there will be no assistant. You can, however, have a chief clerk and all the minor clerks and stenographers , you need. Mr. Barker’s salary will go to THE SUBWAY. lil you and the company will save about half of your pay to say nothing of the increased efficiency of the staff which we expect under your regime.” When George recovered from his surprise sufficiently to speak, he held out his hand to the general manager. “Thank you,” he said. He turned to Barker. “With the consent of the company officials,” he announced, “ I'll be glad to retain you as chief clerk, Mr. Bark- er, at whatever salary the company agrees tO payg I assure you there are no hard feelings.” ‘Go to blazes!’ said Barker and he stalked out of the room. THE END Lv J Le} Le} Le] SPRING OWN in the stable the ol’ mare is lickin’ The new colt that got here last week. Out in the pasture, a new calf is friskin’ Around the ol’ cow like a streak. Ol’ sow is sucklin’ new pigs in the barn lot, An’ out in the shed, on some straw, A litter o’ six white an’ black mongrel puppies Is crawlin’ all over their ma. Birds built a nest in the tree by the tool-house; They knowed they was goin’ to need That nest, an’ by golly, they’re workin’ like beavers, ‘Cause they’ve got new youngsters to feed. Ol’ cat’s asleep in a box in the kitchen, _ With five kittens mussin’ her fur, An’ if them other critters is proud o’ their babies, Well, they ain’t got nothin’ on her. Thar’s a ol’ duck, comin’ up from the frog pond, With ten baby ducks on her trail, An’ thar’s a ol’ hen squattin’ over her fam’ly, Which is peepin’ out under her tail. Back in the house, I can hear my wife singin’ In a low voice that’s croonin’ an’ deep, An’ I know what it means—it’s the tone that she uses To sing the new baby to sleep! Will Thomas Withrow. Gomichbooks (EO)