Evening Republican, Volume 21, Number 35, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 19 February 1918 — LITTLE STORIES OF WASHINGTON STREET. [ARTICLE]

LITTLE STORIES OF WASHINGTON STREET.

The Flrtt Of A Series Of Queer and Quaint Happenings to The Merchants on Our Busy Mart. Once upon a time there was a merchant on Washington street who was as wise as the average merchant is today. He was a judicious buyer, as to quality and no traveling man was of a smoothness sufficient to load him up with such articles as would necessitate a wonderful saving sale later on in the season. But in the rear of the store, near the desk, was a pile of big fat books, containing page upon page with names and figures. These were and are known as the charge accounts. This merchant was not as judicious in selling his wares as he was in buying them. He made a comfortable margin on what he sold, provided, he got his money. In some instances he had to wait a long time for his money, and for some of it he is waiting yet. Every merchant on the street no matter what his wares may be, can say amen to that. In addition great gobs' of statements were sent out at regular intervals, when the expense of stationery and postage was added to some otherwise dead accounts. Perhaps they all hope the chance may be worth the taking, that some may be only sleeping. Such statements had been mailed to a creditor who had been delinquent almost two years. The account was considered null and void. “We’ll send him just one more'statement,” said the merchant, “and then we’ll put it in the dead letter office.” So the statement went out. And 10, shortly thereafter appeared the party of the second part, in' the emporium of the long contracted debt. Surprise was in the heart of the purveyor of merchandise on time. Quoth he, who had been in arrears for so long a time, “I’ve come in to settle that little matter of twelve dollars, look it up on the book and I’ll pay as the account stands.” Happiness was now rampant in the heart of the keeper of the big brown books. So he looked in the book and said, “You owe me just twelve dollars and sixty cents.” The arrant one then said “Well George,” George being camoflage for the merchant’s right name, “Give me a blank note and fill it out and I’ll sign it for the amount” Surprise again dominant in the innards of the knight of the charge account. But he got the note and filled it out and the long lost brother signed it with his right name. Then said he, rubbing his hands with the satisfaction of a deed well done, “Thank heaven that’s paid, now George can’t you give a feller a smoke.” Surprise faded into stupefaction and George mechanically went to the cigar case offered a box of cigars and the man who had just paid his account lit it with a flourish, smacked Us lips with evident relish and set sail out the front door, which hasen’t seen him since. That happened almost ten years ago. If the curious reader wants to know if the account was ever settled, as a matter of record the note is outlawed now and has a resting place an the archives where all the bad little notes go.