Chiquita, an American Novel: The Romance of a Ute Chief's DaughterTileston, Merrill
General
Chiquita, an American Novel: The Romance of a Ute Chief's Daughter
Tileston, Merrill
Indian women -- Fiction; Ute Indians -- Fiction
"Yes, and I am but forty-five. I went to work, a girl of fifteen, in one
of the then larger western cities and after five years concluded I would
prefer an eastern house. New York did not offer the inducement which I
found in Boston. I was placed in the fur stock in winter and lighter
wraps in summer. For some reason, after I had been with them ten years,
they transferred me temporarily into the present department, later
returning me for one winter to the furs. At the end of that season I was
given the option of management of the entire wrap stock or a permanent
place in the other line. I preferred the latter. I did not feel
confidence enough in myself to be a buyer. You see, if certain styles of
goods fail to 'go,' fail to become popular or to bring a good profit,
there is a vacancy and a new buyer takes up the department. My sales in
the new stock increased steadily. It became positively embarrassing to
me at times when customers refused to have their wants attended to by
the men in the stock, men who had been there many years longer than I
had. But the fact was, it finally became necessary for me to make
appointments just the same as dentists do in order to give the attention
necessary to the trade. Three years ago I made my first attempt in
buying from manufacturers in France. That trip was one continual round
of 'stage fright,' and even after the goods were in the house I worried
myself sick for fear the end of the season would be a 'blank,' as the
boys say about lottery tickets, but the books showed a very profitable
period in the face of grave reverses to the general trade. And now, to
show their confidence in me as well as making me the magnificent present
of a trip to India, I am on my way to buy goods. Isn't it lovely of
them?"
"Well, you deserve it, even more if anything. Just imagine working for
one firm a quarter of a century," spoke up Hazel very energetically.
"Many firms," said Jack, weighing his words, "send 'style hunters'
abroad for the effect the mail from a foreign port has on their
customers. Half the time these 'hunters' stay long enough to mail their
announcements, like as not printed in the United States, look at a few
hats or garments, perhaps buy a 'pattern' or two, and then return home.
Other firms do send buyers into various ports abroad. Some have resident
buyers, but I never knew before of any firm sending a buyer from the
ranks of the fair sex to the Orient. Let me compliment you, Miss
Asquith, on your high achievement. It certainly demonstrates the
advancement of woman's sphere. But may I ask you a pertinent question
regarding the social part of your life?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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