It is related that more elaborate cuspidors graced the Atlantic & Pacific operating room a few days later, indicating the efficacy of determined organization.
[No Jobs, But Vacancies.]
The following story has been told and re-told years ago, in most every large telegraph office in the country, but has never appeared in print. The incident is quaint and worthy of a place in the literature of the telegraph.
Jake Tallman was a well known itinerant knight of the key and in the course of his meanderings found himself one summer day in the City of New Orleans. Tallman was a fine operator and a good, companionable fellow, but, as the boys used to say, it was as hard to enter the kingdom of heaven as it was to obtain a position in the New Orleans office. Considerable diplomacy was therefore necessary to ascertain the entering wedge.
There happened to be a vacancy in the office about the time of Tallman’s arrival and his old friend, Dick Babbitt, determined to assist in placing him.
David Flannery was the superintendent and he was a “Fine old Irish gintleman, one of the rare old kind.”
Babbitt related to his friend that it would be a good stunt to go to church the following Sunday and take a seat in Mr. Flannery’s pew and by some means attract that gentleman’s attention to his presence. This would serve to pave the way to an introduction the following day when he could plead his cause.
Acting on the suggestion, Tallman sallied to church a little ahead of the other worshippers, and asked for, and was escorted to the Flannery pew.
A few minutes later the superintendent came leisurely up the aisle and took his seat along side of his expectant employe.