TEDDY BURKE DISTINGUISHES HIMSELF
But while Harry Harding was finding life in a department store far
from tranquil, Teddy Burke was making himself very much at home in the
prosaic realm of kettles and pans. In fact, the kettles and pans were
but a small part of department 40. It did not take the active Teddy
long to discover this. The kingdom of house furnishings spread over a
large part of the basement, and from a profound contempt for the lowly
conveniences and necessities of the housekeeper, he developed at least
a good-natured tolerance for the engines of housekeeping, great and
small.
It did not take him long to explore every foot of the territory into
which his lot had been cast, and before he had been in the department a
week he knew everyone in it. The demonstrator who concocted appetizing
dishes on her shining gas range became his firm friend and slipped him
many a surreptitious dainty. Mr. Duffield, the aisle manager, liked
Teddy chiefly because he was unusually keen of understanding. “I never
have to tell 65 a thing more than once,” he was wont to remark to the
salesmen. Samuel Hickson, the red-haired young man, was Teddy’s chief
crony, however, and Teddy liked nothing better than to travel about
at his heels. Mr. Hickson laughingly referred to Teddy as his mascot,
and more than once the little boy’s sharp eyes singled out prospective
customers “who looked as though they wanted a whole lot of things,” and
put his friend on their trail.
“Say,” began Teddy one afternoon when during a lull in business he
lined his thin little body beside Hickson, who stood leaning against
a table, peering anxiously across the wide stretch of household wares
for customers. It had been an unusually dull day and few sales were
recorded on Hickson’s book. “Who’s this man Everett they’re always
talkin’ about?”
“Mr. Everett’s the buyer. He’s been in New York ever since you came. I
expect to see him in here most any time.”
“What do you suppose he’ll think of me?” asked Teddy naïvely.
The salesman laughed. “Probably he’ll never see you, unless he happens
to want you to go on an errand. Who do you think you are, Reddy?”
Teddy’s face fell, then he put on an expression of ridiculous dignity,
puffed out his chest and said, “Well, I guess I’m just as much as some
other people I know.”
The salesman only laughed the louder. Looking deeply injured, Teddy
marched off down a narrow aisle, between high-stacked rows of granite
ware, to a section reserved entirely for mops, brooms, long-handled
brushes and other paraphernalia for cleaning.
“I guess if the buyer saw me once, he’d remember my hair, anyhow,”
Teddy muttered. At that moment his eyes were attracted to a curious,
many-colored figure poking disconsolately along toward him. “She’s an
Eyetalion,” decided Ted. “I guess she’s just got here to America.” The
woman wore a red skirt and a bright blue waist; a wide red and yellow
kerchief was folded about her shoulders. On her head she wore a red
silk handkerchief with a ringed red and white border, the ends of which
were tied under her chin. In her ears hung long hoops of gold that
swung and shook as she walked. She was looking eagerly from side to
side as though in search of something.
While Teddy was still several yards from her, a saleswoman approached
and addressed the woman.
“What can I show you, madam?” The saleswoman smiled ingratiatingly.
Whether the stranger understood the other woman’s words or not, she at
least seemed to comprehend the offer of services. With a smile more
than equal to the one bestowed upon her, she gestured with both hands
as though pushing something ahead of her. “Aht, aht!” she exclaimed,
with another vigorous shoving forward of both hands.
“Oh, yes, I see.” The saleswoman stepped to a stack of long-handled
floor brushes, and selecting one demonstrated its good qualities for
the customer’s benefit.
The Italian woman smiled broadly, but shook her head. “Aht, aht,” she
repeated plaintively.
By this time two other saleswomen, attracted by the unusual spectacle
the woman presented, joined the first.
“Aht, aht,” pleaded the woman, repeating her gesture.
“She wants a mop. That’s what she wants,” nodded one of the women, a
tall, stout blonde, whom Teddy had privately named “The Gobbler,” on
account of her loud voice.
“Yes, show her a mop,” echoed the third saleswoman.
The mop was duly shown. A carpet-sweeper was next paraded forth. It was
followed by a broom. The Italian woman seemed highly appreciative of
the display. She continued to smile broadly, although she still shook
her head and repeated her monotonous, “aht, aht.”
Gradually a dozen persons drifted to the scene of action. As they
stood viewing the brisk demonstration of brooms, sweepers and mops,
into their midst strode a rather slender, blue-eyed man, with a
close-lipped, resolute mouth and a distinct air of business about him.
“What does this woman want?” he asked sharply.
“We don’t know,” blared forth the saleswoman whom Teddy had wickedly
named the Gobbler. “We’ve showed her everything. She keeps going like
this and saying, ‘Aht!’”
“Give me that carpet-sweeper,” ordered the man. He ran it back and
forth in front of the smiling customer.
“No--no; aht!” The misunderstood daughter of Italy made a desperate
sweep of her arms.
Suddenly, a wide smile irradiated Teddy Burke’s freckled face. Stepping
directly up to the woman he said, “Come along. I know what you want.
You want to get out of the store. Out--_out_,” he emphasized.
“Aht!” The Italian clasped her fat brown hands in rapture and, nodding
delightedly to her amazed audience, shuffled after Teddy, who had
already started up the aisle toward an elevator.
“Forevermore!” gasped the Gobbler. “I’d like to know how that boy
guessed what she wanted.”
“Who is that boy?” came the sharp question from the business-like man.
“His name is Teddy. That’s all I know about him,” volunteered one of
the saleswomen.
“He’s the messenger boy in this department,” stated another girl,
better informed.
“He’s a very bright boy,” cut in the man decisively, “and decidedly
observing.” Then he marched off down the aisle to his office, while
the little knot of salespersons resumed their usual stations in their
department.