Shortly after three o’clock the aisle manager ordered me to report to the superintendent. That dignitary pompously ordered me to report the following morning and take charge of the counter at which Mrs. McDavit and I were stationed.
“We’ve decided to keep you on regular,” he informed me.
“How much am I to be paid?” I asked.
“Six a week,” was his complacent reply.
“No wonder your advertisement is always in the papers.”
He came down in his chair with a bang.
“We have girls who have worked here months, years,” he retorted angrily. “They are content on six dollars a week, glad to get it. You are only a greenhorn.”
“But not green enough to work for six dollars a week,” and turning I left his office.
So ended my dream of a highly paid responsible position.
Employees not being allowed to use the elevator during busy hours, I was forced to tramp up three flights of stairs. On reaching the counter I swung out the silly little seat attached to one of the table-legs and sat down.