We kept up a fiction that twelve desperate men were banded together to take vengeance on him, and that their motto was “Give Graves the final discharge.” I dare say we were pretty tiresome about it, and sometimes I am afraid we hurt the poor devil more than we intended.
Of course “firing” was not all that Graves had to do. There was also the hiring, but he wasn’t nearly so enthusiastic about that—or at least he was warier, for his mistakes in character analysis could be too readily checked up. He pretended that he took every one on trial, and withheld even mental opinions until he had observed the applicant.
That, however, wasn’t true. Many and many a time he was tremendously hopeful about some fellow who turned out to be quite worthless. I say “fellow,” because he was notably reticent about the girls, and never hopeful.
He objected to girls in an office. He said that the principle of the thing was wrong, and so on; but the real reason was that he was afraid of them. They knew this very well. Once he had had a booklet of “Suggestions” printed and circulated among them. He wrote it in a chatty and reasonable style, as for instance:
It isn’t a question of morals, but one of tone. We can’t have quite the tone I’m sure we should all like to have in this office while some of our young ladies wear peekaboo waists and openwork stockings, and put paint and powder on their faces. In a ballroom these things are all well enough, but—
The next morning he received a visit from the severe and efficient Miss Kelly.
“Mr. Graves,” said she, “about your ‘Suggestions’—I have been in this office six years, and have never seen a peekaboo waist. I have not observed that openwork hosiery has been worn. My department has asked me to mention this to you, as we feel it an unmerited slight. Incidentally, Mr. Graves,” she added, “girls don’t as a rule wear waists in a ballroom. Even stenographers have some knowledge of etiquette!”
The conscientious Graves bought a household periodical, and found no mention of peekaboo blouses and openwork stockings. Unfortunately he was discovered reading this magazine, and he had to explain. He became a little annoyed at hearing so much laughter.
“Oh, shut up!” he exclaimed. “I know I’ve heard of those things. Read articles about ’em in the newspapers.”
“But when?” somebody wished to know. “When did you last cast a glance at a girl, oh, innocent and artless Graves?”