IN THE DEPARTMENT STORE
I have some material here I wish to exchange—I say I have—Will you kindly wait on me?—Busy?—I have some—Now, I must be waited on; I’m in a great hurry! Oh, very well. I have some material here I wish to exchange. It’s marquisette, but it isn’t the right shade. Not marquisette?—Chiffon marquisine? Well, I don’t care if it’s linsey-woolsey! I want to exchange it, or rather, return it. No, I don’t have a charge account; I want the money back. Please give it to me quickly. I’m going to a matinée—What! You can’t take it back here? I must go to the desk? Why, I bought it here, right at this counter, of that thin girl with the hectic flush. She doesn’t look well, does she? She ought to go to some good sanatorium. Well, you see this chiffon, or whatever it is, is the wrong shade. I asked for elephant’s breath, and this is more on the shade of frightened mouse. It doesn’t match my satin at all.—Oh, dear, how unaccommodating you are! Well, where is the desk? Ask the floor-walker? Oh, very well!—Please direct me to the desk. What desk? I don’t know, I’m sure! Any desk will suit me. I want to return some goods that doesn’t match my own material, and you know, this season, if—Near the rear door?—Of course they’d put it as far away as possible!
Is this the exchange desk? Well, I want to return this piece of goods—Oh, no! It isn’t soiled! That’s the original color. Frightened mice often look soiled when they’re not at all! Yes, that is the name! No, it isn’t taupe, nor mode, nor steel common, it’s just frightened mouse. I can carry colors in my eye just like an artist. Now it doesn’t matter what color it is, anyway, for it’s the wrong color!—Cut off the piece? Of course it’s cut off the piece! There’s two yards and a half of it—Remnant? No, it was not! I don’t buy leftovers!—Then you can’t change it? Well, come to think, maybe it was a remnant! Yes, I believe it was! I don’t often get them, but this just matched my satin,—I mean it didn’t match my satin, and that’s why I bought it. No, I mean—well, anyway, I want to return it.—Had it a long time? Well, I couldn’t help that! The dressmaker disappointed me,—that is, I had to go to some bridge parties and things unexpectedly, so I had to put her off. But the minute she pinned it on the pattern I saw it was the wrong shade. Pinholes in it? Nonsense! They don’t show. Of course we had to pin it. Seems to me you’re making a lot of fuss about a simple exchange—I mean a return. I’d like the money back at once. A credit check? No, I want the money; I haven’t any with me, because I depended on getting this. What! You don’t give back the money? Why, it says in your advertisements, “Satisfaction given or money refunded.” Some other shop? Well, I’m sure I thought it was this shop that did that or I’d never have bought the stuff here! Rules? Regulations? Oh, dear! Well, then, take it and give me a credit check. Yes, I’ll sign my name! Dear me, what a lot of red tape! I suppose you have to go through all this to keep from being swindled—Yes, that’s my name and address.
Now, can I get anything in the store for this check? Why, that’s rather fun! Seems as if you were giving it to me for nothing! Oh, how pretty that chiffon looks as you hold it up to the light! Do you know, it doesn’t match my satin, but it would go beautifully with my voile gown, and I want that made over. I do believe I’d better keep it. It was a good bargain, I remember. I wonder if it would match it. I’m sure it would,—I carry colors in my eye so well,—and it’s a lovely quality. I think, if you please, I’ll take it back. What, sign my name again? Well, there, I’ve signed off again. My! it’s like going to law or a divorce court,—not that I’ve ever done either, and, after this experience, I hope I never shall! But just hold that stuff up again. Oh, now that they’ve turned on the electrics, it’s a totally different shade! Oh, I don’t want it now at all! Can’t you turn off the lights again? I’d no idea it was getting so late!—Oh, well, if you’re going to be disagreeable, I’ll take it, then. The value is nothing at all to me! My husband is a prosperous broker. Yes, I’ll take it. Please send it home for me, and if I don’t like it when I get it, I’ll send it back.
THE HOUSEWIFE’S HELPER
“Oh,—how do you do? Are you Miss Allfriend?—the Housewife’s Helper? You must excuse me, but I never saw a Visiting Housekeeper before, and I’d no idea they looked so,—so correct! Well, since you’re here, please begin to housekeep at once. I’m in such a flurry. You see, I’m standardizing my housework, and it makes so much confusion. You understand—don’t you,—all about Lost Motion and Increased Efficiency? I’m a perfect crank on those two things. They mean so much to us enlightened women. Am I a suffragette? Oh, mercy, no! I’m happily married. But I believe in Ethics and Standardization and all those modern conveniences.
“Now, Miss Allfriend, if you’ll please set the dinner table. I’m having a little dinner to-night for Senator Caldwell and his wife. They’re terribly swagger, and, of course, I don’t want to put on any airs, but I do want things to be nice. So, you set the table—Where are the things? Why, hunt them up from the cupboards and buffets? If I get the things out, I may as well do the work myself! I thought you were to help! Here’s the center-piece I want used. Oh,—it is creased, isn’t it? Well, just press it off. Do it carefully,—there’s so much in pressing. Well, yes,—it is a little spotted. I guess you’ll have to wash it. Use only a pure white soap,—and don’t let the colors run.
“And you’d better dust the dishes. Some of them haven’t been used lately. Of course you know how to set a table? If you’re uncertain look in the ‘Perfect Lady’s Home Guide.’ It’s in that drawer, I think,—or, no,—perhaps it’s upstairs,—or maybe I loaned it to Miss Jennings,—she’s going to be married next week, and she has the loveliest—