Gray youth: The story of a very modern courtship and a very modern marriageOnions, Oliver
General
Gray youth: The story of a very modern courtship and a very modern marriage
Onions, Oliver
Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; Marriage -- Fiction; Women -- Social and moral questions -- Fiction
The moment you were shown into his room you were aware that you were
in the presence of no funny man. Suppose you had the good fortune not
to be "turned down" at once as a mere "smartie," Mr. Miller would take
trouble with you. He would frankly admit that he and his fellows had
only themselves to thank for the disrepute into which their craft had
fallen; and bold would have been the advertising freebooter or mere
space-broker who had held up his head before Mr. Miller's righteous
anger.
"We've overdone it," he would sorrowfully admit. "We want noo
blood--noo blood, noo idees, and belief in the reel dignity of our
work. If you've got them, sit right down and let's have a look at them;
if you haven't, you're a busy man and so am I, and I keep my door plain
inside and pretty in the passage where it looks best from. Now show."
Let us assume that you showed and that Mr. Miller found you worth still
more trouble. He might then address you as follows:--
"Too smart. Smartness took the full count the fall before last; we're
pushing these funny stunts underground where they belong. And that
other idee--too noisy. Shouting don't go any more to-day. N. G.---- Now
you're an Englishman, and cann't be expected to see these things in
their reel perspective; but you've assets right here in this country
without these vodeville acts. It ain't my business to put you wise,
but I'll tell you this: neither noise nor smartness is good enough for
Hallowell and Smiths'. Look out o' that window. You see that edifice.
That edifice isn't going up to be run like the one next door to it.
It's a noo edifice, and it's going to be run on noo methods. You think
your methods are noo. You think again. You think quite a lot. Then
when it's hit you good and hard, ring me up and I'll make another date
with you. You got the right look, and there might be business done
between you and I yet. The door closes itself. If you hear a hiss that
ain't me, but the piston. I hope you found the elevator-man courteous
in his manner. You did? That's one of the things there's going to be
at Hallowells'--etiquette. But unobtroosive. Not sticking out a foot
on each side. You didn't observe it sticking out, did you? So. Good
morning."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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