"Mildly—as usual."
"Yetta is keen on that. You remember her. She was out at Cos-Cob last summer. Rather caught your eye, I think."
"That little Jewess? She was good-looking. Has she any other qualifications as a journalist?"
Mrs. Karner shrugged her shoulders.
"I thought you prided yourself on developing raw material."
Two days later Yetta was summoned to Mr. Karner's office. She went to the appointment, wondering what the great newspaper man could want of her—hoping that she might interest him in her girls.
"Glad to see you," Mr. Karner said cordially as she was ushered into his beautifully furnished sanctum. "This cloak-makers' strike is a big story. But we're not making the most of it. There's more in it than news copy.
"There ought to be something for our magazine page. I don't know whether you've ever read it, but it's the page that gets the women. They're not interested in arguments—not much in facts. It's the human interest story—something to make them cry—that gets over with them. About their own people. If they say 'That's just like Sadie or Flossie,' it's the right thing for us. We're always looking for that kind of copy.
"There must be some stories in this strike. Couldn't you give us two or three?"
Yetta was surprised at the offer and decidedly uncertain.