Argosy, Vol. 117, No. 3 — page 41: what you’re looking at

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

THE “ What’s y’r job, kid?” subtly inquired Tom. ‘‘ Slingin’ hash,” wisely replied Polly, re- treating behind a falsehood because she sensed that confession of unemployment would weaken her defenses. “That’s no job f’r a girl like you! Why don’t y’ get wise t’ y’rself?” queried Tom, sparring for an opening. “What d’ y’ mean, get wise?” probed Polly, alert for advantage. “Why, a kid with a shape like you got don’t have to sling hash!” Polly thought she had detected the pur- pose of this opponent. “ Nix on that line, kiddo! I’m wise to that line of bunk!” she retorted, a stern warning in her voice. ‘““Y’ get me wrong there, kid; I ain’t no cadet,” exclaimed Tom, eager to avert suspicion, “Well, shoot then; what is y’r big graft?” inquired the mollified girl. “ Get in the chorus!” “What chorus?” questioned Polly, curi- ous for details. ‘“‘ Burlesque,” answered Tom.. “ They’re lookin’ f’r Janes like you—classy face an’ shape—an’ they’s easy twenty a week in it, ’sides what y’ can nick the Johns for.” “ What d’ y’ have to do?” pursued Polly, entirely unfamiliar with the qualifications of a chorus girl. ‘“‘ Aw, sing an’ dance a little, but mostly just look good.” “T can’t sing or dance,” objected Polly, thereby indicating that Tom’ s ‘Proposal car- ried some appeal. ‘““'Y’ don’t have to—much,” argued Tom. “With y’r shape y’ can get away with mur- der! They’ll teach y’ all the steps y’ need, an’ y’r looks ’ll get y’ by easy.” ‘“Sounds_ reasonable,” skeptically re- marked Polly, slight sarcasm in her tones. Tom was so surprised and delighted that he had discovered so willing a proselyte that he ordered more beer and solicitously in- quired if Polly would not like a sandwich. The latter invitation was redundant in form, for Polly could not remember when she did not want a sandwich. The lure of luxury was upon the girl. Under Tom’s adroit direction she envisioned SONG OF THE 351 the pampered life of the folk of the stage, and leaped to the bait that was dangled be- fore her. The future seemed all at once free from care and vexatious problems concerned with food and warmth. She left Tom that night under promise to meet him the follow- ing day, to be escorted to the office of a theatrical agent, where she might obtain em- ployment, Seafaring men are versed in the customs of these employment agents known as ‘“‘crimps,” and sailors have a well-founded fear of the ungentle process known as “shanghaing,” when a potent and stupefy- ing drop in their glass means unknown ships and unmerciful masters. They avoid these except under propulsion of sternest neces- sity. Had Polly been aware of these prac- tices she might have sensed an analogy in her situation and drank less willing of the benumbing verbal potion that Tom served her. The next day he led his quarry to the office of his master, the agent who furnished girls for the chortisés of the shows that oper- ated on a burlesque wheel. There, after much indelicate exhibition of her nether limbs and much probing of her soft body by the pursy fingers of the agent, she was accepted and told to report at once at a rehearsal hall. Then followed hot and sweaty days of rehearsal while Polly, with her companions of the chorus, labored through awkward drills and dance figures in the minimum of clothes, responding sullenly to the profane urgings of an irascible stage director. The doughty independence that Polly had learned in the streets stood her in good stead now while she combatted the petty SWAN. jealousies and meannesses of the other girls. _ They were jealous of no superior talent, of no mental graces: the only standard of suc- cess in their sordid world was fixed by bod- ily perfections. Polly was their equal, at least in rude- ness, and by the time the show was ready to take to the road for its opening date and automatically start her salary, she had been accepted as a show girl whose resources made her a valuable friend and a dangerous enemy. Without the formality of explanatory Gomicbdooks (C@