Rough Scan
JEEMS AS
AN OFFICE BOY
MY third son is one o’ the noble
army o’ commission agents in Glasgow. He has an office up fower stairs,
wi’ a brass plate on the door, an’ a manager at £10 a year, wha, I used
tae think, had naething tae dae but sit up on the high stool and sing
comic sangs, or get on tae the floor an’ dance nigger break-doons. He's
a rale weelbehaved wee laddie, hooever. One day when going up the stairs
I heard somebody sayin’, "Here’s an auld cove wi' a white hat." Then
I got a hanfu’ a’ peas in my face, an' then I heard a great hurry-scurry
o’ feet rinnin’ awa’. I wid hae gi’en thruppence tae ken wha it
wis, but
it wisna my son’s laddie, for when I gaed in he wis up at the desk writin’
awa’ as hard as he could—wi’ the pen upside doon. I noticed—an’ he tell’t
me there wis some rale bad boys on the stairheid, but that he wisna one
o’ them; so I gied him a clap on the heid an’ an epple for being sae diligent
in business that he hadna time tae look what en’ o’ the pen he wrote wi’.
But tae my story. One day my son said
his clerk wis awa' his holidays, an’ that he himsel’ had tae go to Edinburgh
on business (I found oot afterwards he had gane tae the Exhibition wi’
a lass, but that disna matter), an’ wid I go up an' keep his office for
the day? I wid hae naething tae dae but read the papers an’ tak’ a smoke,
an’ attend tae ony telegrams that cam’, for he wid answer a’ the letters
afore he started.
So up I gaed an’ sat doon in his private
room, an’ opened the papers an’ took a smoke. At 10.30 I heard the ootside
door open.
"A telegram," says I, I rushed
out. A faded-lookin' man wis at the coonter.
"Can I show you any gas burners?" says
he.
"No, thankye," says I.
"Day’s patent."
"No, no," says I ‘ I don't care though
they we‘re Kaye's patent."
"Save you money, sir. Every one is
brass mounted and perforated with three holes. A most invaluable invention.
Just let me try one on your gaspipe."
"But, my guidness, I don't want ony"-
"You’re wrong. If everybody used
these patent tubular burners for a week it would knock the gas company
into fits, and if they continued using them for a month every gas company
would be burst up, an’ you consumers able to buy an estate; a fact, sir,
I assure you. Just look at this, sir. Look at the beautiful mechanism;
indiarubber joints, with automatic action, &c., &c., &C"
"Oh, but, ye ken, we don’t use ony here
worth speakin’ aboot; we shut at fower."
"But you have a house, I hope, a happy
home it may be, and it’s there the saving will be most seen. If you'll
allow me"—
"Noo, look here, I wis jist readin’ about"—
"I'll tell you what I’ll do; they're only
a shilling each"-
"A shillin' for a gas burner"—
"Ah, but look at the saving you effect.
Why, one of them is sufficient under ordinary circumstances to light up
a church, but I"-
"Weel, I don’t want any, so that settles
the matter. Gae awa’, gae awa’!" an’ I wis gled when he did go
awa'.
So doon I sat again in the private room,
an' in ten minutes the ootside door opens, an' oot I rins again an' sees
a weeldressed man wi’ a bundle o papers in his haun.
"Beautiful day, sir!"
"Maist extr'ornar fine day for the time
a’ the year," says I.
"I'm an insurance agent. Agent for the
Nonpareil Fire and Life Insurance Company; a glorious and safe company;
the largest capital and the smallest premiums. May I ask, are you insured?"
"Huch no, I never bother wi' insurance.
I ha'e a wee pickle money in the bank"—
"That doesn’t matter, my dear sir Banks
break. Riches take wings and fly away, sickness comes to most at us, and
death to us all. Our company offers unparalleled inducements, and when
insured in it a man may die happy, knowing that his widow and sorrowing
family will, after seeing him snugly deposited in Sighthill, or elsewhere
according to taste, be able to walk about in the most expensive
mournings,
the envy of all the neighbours. Think of it, my dear sir; think of it.
How old are you?"
"Sixty-nine."
"Ah, a trying age, very trying even to
the robust; hum, sixty-nine—trying age. Ever had the measles?"
"Tut, tut, what are ye haiverin’
aboot? Man, I had the measles afore you were born. Gae awa’; gae awa’!"
"Gently, my dear sir! gently till
I read you our latest triumph. Case No. 204,986. Gentleman of sixty-eight
and ten months, insured for £1000; insurance completed at four o’clock
afternoon. In his joy at having provided for his family had a tripe supper—tripe
went the wrong way—but I need not dwell on the harrowing details. His
widow has now one of the most flourishing dressmaking businesses in the
city. May I put down your name?"
"Weel, look in the morn," says
I, "an’ I’ll think ower’t."
I kent fine I wid be miles aff then; so
he gaed awa’ weetin’ his pencil wi’ his tongue tae mark my name
doon,
an’ dootless coontin’ me as "bagged."
Noo, thinks I, I’ll hae peace; but in
less than twenty minutes a book canvasser cam’ in an’ wid insist on spreadin’
oot his books on the coonter, clearin’ awa’ my son’s directory an’ blotting
pad an’ water bottle tae mak’ room for them. He wid gie me "Buchan’s
Domestic Medicine" in haufcroon parts, or "Josephus" in
shilling numbers, or "Why am I a New Jerusalemite" in penny
numbers. After I got rid o’ him anither cam’ in a’ hung ower wi’ tin toasters,
moose traps, an’ letter files, an’ when I tell’t him I didna need ony
he flourished a tin toaster in my face the same as if my face wis a finnan
haddie he wis goin’ tae put on tae fry. Next in came one wantin’ my name
for a directory, but as the fee wis five shillings I didna gie him it.
Then an auld man openin’ the door, asked me, in a mysterious whisper,
if I had any "old clo’s " tae sell. He wis the only one oot
o’ the whole lot that wantit tae buy onything. After that a French sailor
wi’ ear-rings wanted me tae buy some smuggled ceegaurs, but I said tae
him "Nong comprong," an’ showed him my common black twist, an’
that finished him. Next a man appeared selling coals; an’ an impident
lassie wi hearthbrushes; an' followin' her wis a man carryin’ a gless
bowl fu’ a’ gold fish; an’ then anither that said he had walked a’ the
way frae Dundee; an' after him anither selling pencils then a lady gathering
money tae send oot flannel petticoats tae the female Hottentots. Gosh,
sic a day as I had, it wis jist up an’ doon aff the chair as hard as I
could; an’ never an order, min’ ye. At last I got fearfu’ angry, an I
vowed the next ane wid get scant civility frae me, so I settled down tae
read. In a wee I hears the outside door openin’ again, an’ oot I goes
an’ says in a gruff tone, "Weel, what d’ye want?" The man leans
ower the coonter, an’ in a mysterious whisper says, "Wid ye buy a
razor?" an’ he took one oot o’ his pocket an’ flourished it at my
nose. I lost my breath for a minute, but I sune recovered it, an’ lifting
up the poker I cries. oot, "Rubbart, come oot here!" an’ I made
a breenge at him, an’ he thinking I had been crying on my cashier or somebody,
shut up the razor an’ openin’ the door, got oot as fast as he could. This,
hooever, wis going ower the score, so I wrote oot a ticket an’ wafered
it up on the door, "Back in 10 minutes." Then I gaed awa’ hame
an’ let the office tak’ care o’ itsel’ till my son cam’ back, an’ I jist
thocht, as I wis hurlin’ oot in the caur, that the office boy’s life wisna
sich a sinecure after a’.