among the clerks. They were cordial,
but they kept an eye on Mr. Edward Pilkings.

He shivered as he walked out. It was warm and busy in the shoe-store,
but outside it was rather chilly for a man with no overcoat--or job. It
seemed incredible that he should have found his one place of refuge
closed to him.

He walked from shoe-store to shoe-store, hopelessly. "Old-fashioned
place," the shoe-men said when he mentioned his experience with Pilkings
& Son's. "Be glad to do what we can for you, Mr. Appleby, but just
now--"

He had reached the department-store section. Already the holiday rush
had begun. Holly was in the windows; Salvation Army solicitors tinkled
irritating bells on every corner.

Department stores had always rather bewildered this man of small
business, but he inquired for the help-employment bureau in the largest
of them, and his shyness disappeared as he found a long line of
applicants filling out blanks. Here he did not have to plead with some
one man for the chance to work. He was handled quickly and efficiently.
On a blank he gave his age, his experience, how much he expected; and a
brisk, impersonal clerk told him to return next day.

On that next day the world became wonderful for Father, wonderful and
young again, for some one did actually want him. He had a temporary
holiday-help job in the leather-goods department, at eight dollars a
week.

* * * * *

Father's first day of work in the leather-goods department was the most
difficult he had ever known. His knowledge of shoes and leather had
become purely mechanical; a few glances at new stock and at trade
journals had kept him aware of changing styles. Now he had suddenly to
become omniscient in regard to hand-bags, portfolios, writing-cases,
music-rolls; learn leathers which he had never handled--cobra-seal,
walrus, ecrase, monkey-skin. He had to appear placidly official, almost
pontifical, when vague ladies appeared, poked clippings from holiday
magazines at him, and demanded, "I want something like that." "That"
usually depicted articles of whose use he had the most indefinite
notions. Other ladies, ponderous ladies, who wanted vast quantities of
free advice before purchasing Christmas presents, desired encyclopedic
information about sewing-cases, picnic-sets, traveling pillow-cases,
telephone-pads, guest-books, and "a cover for my Social Register, and I
want you to be sure it's the very latest thing."

He