"What do you want to see him about? Are you looking for a job?"
"No, I'm not; I want to have some printing done."
"Oh, that's the ticket, is it? The superintendent is the man you want to see. He's on the top-floor. Come with me and I'll take you up to him."
I stepped into the elevator and up we shot. We never stopped until we struck the top landing, where a door confronted us which opened into a huge apartment that was full of type-stands, presses, paper-cutters and printing machinery of all sorts. At the furthest end of this huge apartment were some offices.
Upon my entrance into the large apartment a man stepped up to me and wanted to know what I wanted.
"I'd like to see the superintendent."
"Looking for a job, cully?" asked this gentleman.
"Well, hardly," responded I. "I want to have some printing done."
"Oh, you do, eh? You'll find the super in the rear office; away in the back," and he waved his hand toward the rear.
I walked toward the rear and was met by a small boy, who came out of an office and wanted to know my business.