"Capital!" exclaimed the young salesman, as he glanced at the bill. "I couldn't have done it any better myself."
I was willing to believe him as I glanced at the page of the sales book where he had made entries, and saw what a villanous hand he wrote, and what blots and blunders he had inflicted upon the innocent white paper. However, he was good-natured, and did not pretend to be a book-keeper; so I was willing to forgive him.
"What time does Mr. Collingsby come to the counting-room?" I asked, as he was looking over the bill.
"The young man comes about nine or ten; but he don't stay here much of the time. Some days the old gentleman looks in about eleven, and some days he don't," replied Land, as he left the office.
I was at the desk, and had made my first debit. The situation was novel, but it was pleasing. It was Desk and Debit, for which I had been seeking for weeks.
The counting-room was divided into two apartments. In the first, which occupied the front of the building, were the desk, the safe, the books, and the papers. All the general business of the firm was transacted here; and my position was behind the desk in this room. Separated from it by a partition composed mostly of ground glass windows was the other apartment, whose interior I had not yet seen. As Mr. Whippleton was the bookkeeper, and had the general charge of the finances of the firm, I concluded that the interior room was appropriated to the use of the dignified senior partner and his father, the special partner, when the latter chose to honor the establishment with his presence.
While I was taking a deliberate survey of the premises where I was to pass at least several weeks, two salesmen, with their memoranda in their hands, bustled into the counting-room, each attended by a customer, to whom he had sold a bill of lumber. They had been informed by Land of the debut of the new entry clerk, and they read off their sales to me, which I entered upon the book, giving them bills for the purchasers. One of them paid his bill, and I was looking for the cash book when Mr. Whippleton made his appearance.
"So you are really at work, Philip," said he, as he glanced at the sales book.
"Yes, sir; I have made a beginning. I was looking for the cash book, sir."
"I keep the cash book myself," added he, in a manner which indicated that I was not to meddle with it.