able where a young lady was
selling "The Life and Libraries of Andrew Carnegie" at four dollars
a month and fifty cents a week, and in three years it is yours if
you don't lose the receipts.

She gave me a glad smile and I felt a thrill of encouragement.

"Excuse me," I said, "but I am looking for a birthday present for
my wife which will make all the neighbors jealous, and which I can
use afterwards as an ash-receiver or a pocket flask."

The young lady cut out the giggles and pointed to the northwest.

I went over there.

To my surprise I found another counter.

A pale young woman was behind it.

I was just about to ask her the fatal question when a young man
wearing a ragtime expression on his face rushed up and said to the
young lady behind the counter, "I am looking for a suitable present
for a young lady friend of mine with golden brown hair. Could you
please suggest something?"

The saleslady showed her teeth and answered him in a low, rumbling
voice, and the man went away.

Then came an old lady who said, "I bought some organdie dress goods
for a shirt-waist last Tuesday and I would like to exchange them
for a music box for my daughter's little boy, Freddie, if you
please!"

The saleslady again showed her teeth and the old lady ducked for
cover.

After about fifty people had rushed up to the saleslady and then
rushed away again, I went over and spoke to her.

"I am looking," I said, "for a birthday present for my wife. I
want to get something that will give her a great amount of pleasure
and which I can use later on as a pipe cleaner or a pair of
suspenders!"

The saleslady fainted, so I moved over.

At another counter another young lady said to me, "Have you been
waited on?"

"No," I replied; "I have been stepped on, sat on and walked on, but
I have not yet been waited on."

"What do you wish?" inquired the young woman.

"I am looking for a birthday present for my wife," I said. "I want
to buy her something that will bring great joy to her heart and
which I might use afterwards as a pair of slippers or a shaving
mug."

The young lady caught me with her dreamy eyes and held me up
against the wall.

"You," she screamed; "you complete a total of 23,493 people who
have been in this department store to-day without knowing what they
are doing here, and I refuse to be a human encyclopaedia for the
sake of eight dollars a week. On your way for yours!"

I began to apologize, but she rea