Dues for the Men's Club are placed at three dollars a year—that surely is a nominal figure. These go toward the development of club activities outside of its actual running expenses (rent, the restaurant, etc.). The gymnasium fee is another three dollars, which is much less than one would pay for a similar facility elsewhere in New York.
The scale of charges for the Community Club is quite different. The dues here are but twenty-five cents a year—its membership is made up mainly of lower-salaried folk—with small extra charges for special activities. For instance, the Spanish class, which is taught by one of the Spanish interpreters in the store and which has a constant attendance of about forty, costs its pupils the very inconsiderable sum of five cents a lesson. The gymnasium charge is kept in a like ratio. There are a few others in addition. The aggregate cost, however, of as many activities as an average employee can take up is of little moment or burden to him or to her—nothing as compared with the sense of independence that goes with the small act of payment.
The Choral Club, under the direction of a competent leader, meets Wednesday evenings in the big recreation room on the third floor of the store, with a usual attendance of about two hundred men and women who are trained in part singing and in chorus work of various sorts. This is not only enjoyable and popular for its own sake but it has an added value in leading toward the organizing of the store's talent for concerts and for musical plays.
And it has such talent. Do not forget that—not even for a passing moment. It would be odd, indeed, if a family of five thousand folk did not develop upon demand much real histrionic and artistic ability of every sort. And when such potentialities are fostered and encouraged, the results—well, they are such as to warn Florenz Ziegfeld and the rest of the Forty-second Street theatrical producers to keep a sharp eye, indeed, upon Macy's.
On Monday evenings, the entire winter long and well into the spring, the Dramatic Club meets and here every budding Maxine Elliott or Ina Claire has her full opportunity. On Tuesday there is a get-together evening—one begins to think with all these evenings so neatly filled of the calendar of a real social enterprise—and then one sees the store family at its fullest relaxation. Here was a recent Tuesday night. It was just before Christmas and the store was approaching the annual peak load of its year's traffic. Yet it had no intention whatsoever of relaxing a single one of its social endeavors.
On this particular Tuesday evening our salesgirl—the one whom we saw but a moment ago being inducted into the selling organism of the store—made her first personal acquaintance with the Community Club. Let her tell her own story, and in her own way:
"Up in the recreation room a few hundred of us gathered for a regular party. Some few of us had gone home after store hours for our dinner; the others had had it right in the store's own lunchroom. It surely is great the way that you can get a meal there in Macy's at any time you are staying late—either on duty or on pleasure.
"At about six-thirty the evening's program got under way—so that the many friendly, chattering groups of girls in the big room finally had to simmer down to something approaching silence. Then the Choral Club began singing for us—some good, old-time Christmas carols first, and then some other songs. All of us joined finally in the chorus, leaving the club to carry the difficult parts. They could do that all right, too. Mr. Janpolski, their leader, finally gave us a solo and after that there was a grand march led by our own beloved Marjorie Sidney. Everybody joined in—not only in body, but in spirit. It was like Washington's Birthday in the big gym up at Northampton. Messenger girls, college graduates, salesfolk, deliverymen, managers—everyone was just the same in that blessèd hour. Distinctions of the store were gone. We were boys and girls—some of us a bit grown up and grayed to be sure, but all with Peter Pannish hearts—having a real party once again.
"The grand march ended in dancing for every one—with a jolly negro at the piano doing his level best to uphold the reputation of his race for really spontaneous music. Finally, after many encore dances, everybody withdrew from the floor and out came Mr. Salek, the director of the Men's Club, and Miss Knowles, doing an almost professional dance. The Castles had very little on this couple—the way Salek lifted his partner and then let her down—slowly, slowly, still more slowly—reminded me of Maurice and Walton. Their performance brought down the house. Of course they had to respond to encores; again and again and again.
"Following this—for Macy's believes that variety is the spice of all life—a Junior recited the unforgetable ''Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house.' She really was a darling. And how Christmassy she looked, with her big butterfly sash and her hairbow of scarlet tulle.... Next on the program came dancing—for everybody. First, however, there was another march, so that each couple received a number—while every little while certain numbers (the couples that held them) were eliminated from the floor. The nicest part about this elimination dance, as they called it, was that instead of only the last couple getting the prize, as is generally done—every couple, as soon as its number was called and it left the floor, went over to a big chimney-top, with a proverbially jolly 'Santa' peering out of it. There Santa gave to each one a little gift, such as a whistle, a stick of candy, or a jolly little rattle. Then, after more dancing, refreshments were served by gaily garbed Junior waitresses. After which the dancing continued until the merry Community Club Christmas dance was entirely over."