Just then the ferry-boat’s gates were lifted, and as we went our several ways, in the hurry that is characteristic of 7,098,111 Americans out of eight millions, I thought that, if all the brains of all the arithmetical cranks were used in place of wood-pulp to make into paper, we writers would get our pads for nothing.
XVI
AN URBAN GAME
A game that is much played in hot weather by persons who are addicted to the department-store habit is called “Where can I find it?” It is played by means of counters, and its duration is often a whole morning in length. To the looker-on it is much like golf, it seems so aimless; and it is aimless, but it has the advantages over golf that it can be played in the city and does not necessitate the services of a caddy. Over a score take a hand in it from first to last, but only one is “it,” and she or he displays the only activity necessary to the game. Only those who are of tough build should undertake to play it on a hot day, as it is extremely debilitating.
To make the game long and interesting, you should enter the store and ask for something a little unusual that you may have seen advertised somewhere. For instance, you go to the glove counter and ask for a preparation for making soup, called “Soupina.” I am not advertising anything, as the name is fictitious, but it will serve to illustrate my meaning. The particular embodiment of haughtiness at the glove counter will think that you mean some kind of soap, and will frigidly direct you to the perfumery department, “pillar No. 8.” You go there simply because it is your move, and you repeat your inquiry, adding that you think it’s put up in bottles.
“Bottled goods,” is the quick rejoinder, “fourth floor.”
The elevator bears you to the grocery department, and you ask for “bottled goods.”