“H’m,” he h’md, “I’ve got the Old Man, but it’s cost me the gal.”
He turned sadly away, mumbling something about what he thought of a Life that kept a fellow always manoeuvering for position.
Over the hills came the floating fragrance of frying fishballs, while in the tall whiffletree above him a chipmunk chipped softly to its mate.
Lesson for Today: When you set out to cure Industrial Mossbackitis, the dangers are great.
HOT SKETCH NO. 2
The Lurid Lot of the Leaker
A YOUNG man had a job with an old organization.
The job was not that of General Manager.