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OFFICE BOY--"Gee whiz: Am I expected to do the work and find it, too?"
A certain prominent lawyer of Toronto is in the habit of lecturing his office staff from the junior partner down, and Tommy, the office boy, comes in for his full share of the admonition. That his words were appreciated was made evident to the lawyer by a conversation between Tommy and another office boy on the same floor, which he recently overheard.
"Wotcher wages?" asked the other boy.
"Ten thousand a year," replied Tommy.
"Aw, g'wan!"
"Sure," insisted Tommy, unabashed. "Four dollars a week in cash an' de rest in legal advice."
"I can't keep the visitors from coming up," said the office boy, dejectedly, to the president. "When I say you're out they simply say they must see you."
"Well," said the president, "just tell them that's what they all say."
That afternoon there called at the office a young lady. The boy a.s.sured her it was impossible to see the president.
"But I'm his wife," said the lady.
"Oh, that's what they all say," said the boy.
Into the office of a business man rushed a bright faced lad. For three minutes he waited and then began, to show signs of impatience.
"Excuse me, sir," he said at length, "I'm in a hurry."
"Well, what do you want?" asked the business man.
"A job!"
"But why the hurry?"
"Got to hurry," replied the lad briefly. "Left school yesterday, and haven't struck anything suitable yet. The only place where I can stay long is where they pay me for it."
"How much do you want?"
"Fifteen dollars a week for a start."
"And when can you come?"
"Don't need to come; I'm here. I could have been at work five minutes ago if you'd only said so."
BOSS (to new boy)--"You're the slowest youngster we've ever had.
Aren't you quick at anything?"
BOY--"Yes, sir; n.o.body can get tired as quickly as I can."
A small boy went into a business office that displayed a sign, "Boy Wanted."
"What kind of a boy does youse want?" he asked of the manager.
"Why, a decent boy," said the manager. "One who is quick, doesn't swear, smoke cigarettes, whistle round the office, shoot c.r.a.ps--"
"Aw, gee, boss," interrupted the boy, "youse don't want a boy; youse wants a girl."
"How does your boy Josh like his job in the city?"
"First-rate," replied the father. "He knows more about the business than the man that owns it."
"Who told you that?"
"Josh did. All he's got to do now is to convince the boss of it, an'
git promoted."
"Why, look here," said the merchant who was in need of a boy, "aren't you the same boy who was in here a week ago?"
"Yes, sir," said the applicant.
"I thought so. And didn't I tell you then that I wanted an older boy?"
"Yes, sir. That's why I'm back. I'm older now."
OFFICE-SEEKERS
Mayor Mitchel of New York was talking at a dinner about office-seekers.
"A good man had just died," he said, "and with unseemly haste an office-seeker came after his job.
"Yes, sir, tho the dead man hadn't been buried, yet this office-seeker came to me and said, breathlessly:
"'Mr. Mayor, do you see any objection to my being put in poor Tom Smith's place?'
"'Why, no,' said I. 'Why, no, I see no objection, if the undertaker doesn't.'"
No matter how hard a man runs for office he is perfectly satisfied to win in a walk.
There is seldom a collision between the office seeking the man and the man seeking the office.