Poor Santo Tomé cannot lack again For patrons. Ne'er, I vow, did mortal brush Greco: The heavens? The heavens, Paternity? Your thoughts Of them, Maestro-theologue, that shone In the Trilingue of Alcalá? Or are you fain to avoid the theme I gave Their nature held some sort of matter, so, Don Andrés: And yet, Doménico, meseems you teach Greco: And wherefore not? Are words To be the only signs of thought? If sounds, As well as the corporealities? Thus see you the intent that I pursue. No master of Valencia or Seville In craftsmanship has ever matched the brush As actual as when the miracle Was wrought in Santo Tomé as they brought The corpse for burial, whereon appeared The saints, and solemnly composed its bed With their own hands. But how, so scorning words, Interpret well the scene except I show Wherefore Toledo's priests and gentlemen Bear so resigned a grief, are gazing up With such a trust in heaven? What though yourself, Don Pedro, Don Diego, wise Antonio, The knights, myself, and Niña, and the friars, Are here portrayed to life, were there not such As we assembled thus some eightscore years God's cross, whence other roundel spirits dart Don Andrés: Thou preachest an evangel, yet I fear How none Verily Greco: That well may be; But think you, Señor Cura, that I left My flowery schools of Venice and of Rome Don Andrés: Nay, Good friend Doménico, take no offense. We wait your picture and your hand to mark Its place upon our walls. [Aside.] The arch is dim, Even now it hardly shows. [Aloud.] The air grows chill, I must make haste, Maestro, into town. Greco: Before your mass is done The lads shall bring the canvas roll, and I Don Andrés. Don Andrés: God be with you. Greco: Go with God. THE PAYING TELLER BY PHILIP PRESCOTT FROST RALPH DALE, Jone was the son of ALPH DALE, JR., was the son of Dales worked fairly hard, and few others Grandfather Dale sold his farm and "went West" away back when things were new, and instead of straining his back at farming when he took up land, he was shrewd enough to establish a general store squarely in the middle of his hundred and sixty. He was honest and thrifty, and many came and bought and went away again, and some stayed, and a village grew up about the store. The railroad came to the village in due time, another road made it a junction-point, and building lots began to bring good prices; so without robbing widows or oppressing orphans Grandfather Dale grew wealthy by the sweat of other men's faces. Then he died, and of his subsequent history we are not informed. He left his property behind him, however, which is the main point. Ralph Dale, Sr., inherited Dale City, and so found it easy to be a gentleman, and travel, and speculate a little, and enjoy life generally without grinding the faces of the poor very much. It is true that everybody in Dale City except the had much to show for it at the end of the year; but we all understand. No wellbred person can object to the divine right of capital to its dividends. The Dales thought that there was a divine right of capitalists, too; but that was exactly where they deceived themselves. Ralph Dale, Jr., started in at the bottom in the little Dale National Bank, and worked his way up just like any otherwell, to be accurate, just like any other bank-owner's son. That is, he drew the salary and put in a little time, and some one else did most of his work. He had arrived at the position of cashier, and had really begun to show considerable natural ability and traces of what is known as "the instinct for investment," when somebody cornered wheat on the Chicago Board of Trade one day. Ralph Dale, Sr., was on the wrong side of the market. That night all the Dales were merely human beings again, with no capital, no rights, no special favor of Providence, just empty stomachs and cold backs, like other folks. Being no longer a capitalist, and not quite a man, Ralph Dale, Sr., blew out his brains. At the point where his story ends that of his son begins. Ralph Dale, Jr., metaphorically pulled off his coat and went to work, not because he loved it, but because the new board of directors informed him pointedly that if he wished to draw two thirds of his former salary and continue as cashier he might prove himself able to do so. He did it. He had his old Grandfather Dale's eye for a good thing, and invested so wisely that the bank made much through him, and was glad to keep him, at the reduction of course. Fat salaries are a form of dividend, and dividends are sacred to capital. Young Dale was "labor" now. He worked harder and got less than formerly, and was "dissatisfied," much like other labor that feels itself worthy of its hire and fails to get it. About this time Ralph Dale, Jr., obtained a very clear and accurate view of things as they really are, and of life as it really is, and of all such pessimistic subjects, which are so much better ignored, if possible. When he analyzed the word 'capitalist" now, he perceived that the "capital" remained quite unimpaired by the operation, while the human "ist" was rendered very futile indeed. When the opportunity came, Dale was overjoyed to accept a position in Chicago as assistant payer of the Stockholders & Directors National Bank at twelve hundred dollars. It buried the past and opened a future. All country cashiers look to the big city bank for their real opportunity. SHORTLY before this a meeting had been held in the directors' room of the Stockholders & Directors National. The new vice-president had outlined a new policy, which he termed "economy of management," which was to add materially to the fortunes of the men about the table. "In the past the salary has gone with the position in this bank," he reminded them. "My plan is that below the grade of assistant cashier the term of service be made the controlling factor. Men will be taken on at the bottom, as now, at twenty dollars, or at most twenty-five dollars, per month. On the first of each January and July all those whom we desire to retain will be granted an increase of five dollars per month. If any of those who are disappointed choose to re main at the figure they have been receiving no harm is done. If not, the unfit, or less fit, are eliminated quietly and without disturbance. When a man's salary reaches, if it ever does reach, one hundred and twenty-five dollars per month, all increase permanently ends. This cannot occur in less than ten years, of course. Such men have the privilege of hoping for an assistant cashiership-" a quiet smile went around the table-"of hoping-and if a one-hundred-and-twenty-five-dollar should choose to leave us, we would be one hundred dollars a month ahead. The resulting promotions would cost us nothing, while they would please the men, and the man who came on at the bottom would start at not over twenty-five dollars. Indeed, it is intended that the term of service shall be short, the rate of promotion seemingly rapid, and the average wage in consequence automatically very low." man "Would n't this influx of new men impair the efficiency of the force?" inquired a heavy-browed man, suspiciously. "Individually, yes. But by speeding up, requiring night work if necessary to complete tasks, and, if necessary, also adding slightly to the numbers, that may be overcome without materially reducing the saving due to lowered pay. There is another point right there which I intended to mention. The frequent change of work, and the comparative unfamiliarity of each man with his work, greatly lessen the danger of theft. Combined with the bonding of the men, it makes us virtually safe." "Won't this plan work hardship in some quarters?" a pleasant-faced man of nearly eighty ventured to ask. He was the only man in the room from whom one would really expect to hear such a question. "Not at all," reassured the vice-president. "It may be necessary to eliminate one or two of the larger salaries just at the start, but the man who moves up will simply wait a little longer for his raise of pay. Indeed, he may enjoy a raise sooner than he otherwise would because of this arrangement." The old gentleman was silenced, if not entirely convinced. "I think we all appreciate the advantages of this economy," now observed a quiet gentleman on the opposite side of the table. "I move that we approve the plan of the vice-president, and empower the officers to put it into execution. I would suggest that nothing be said about the matter after we leave this room." "Oh, certainly; of course I intended that nothing be said outside with regard to this-this change of policy," hastily agreed the vice-president. "As many as will so order-it is carried—" THE first step in the squeeze was the taking on of Dale as "assistant paying teller" at twelve hundred. The elimination began with the old paying teller at eighteen hundred. Pressure, properly applied, forced him to resign within six months without creating a disturbance, and Dale succeeded to his place. His elation was short-lived, for his own pay-check remained at one hundred dollars instead of going to one hundred and fifty dollars, as he confidently expected. His newly appointed assistant was equally distressed by a marked failure to approach Dale's former salary. Those further down the line had nothing to show for their promotions. The assistant cashier broke up the resultant sulking, and set them all to work again with redoubled energy by one or two casual remarks about "waiting a little to see who made good." When their enthusiasm finally showed signs of languishing, he told each of them quite confidentially that he was doing well "so far." They struggled on, and at the proper moment he assured each that he was "certainly making a fine showing," and that "if he could only keep that pace up-" followed by a meaning, yet noncommittal, wag of the head. It was characteristic of them as bank clerks that they felt little sympathy for the old paying teller who had been crowded out. It was also characteristic that each hid his own hurt, and wasted no sympathy upon his fellow-victims. Every man higher up was an obstacle to advancement, every man lower down was a possible rival, and to suspect the bank would have been treason. They were slow to accept even the irrefutable evidence of the facts that the bank, which exacted the utmost of honesty and loyalty from them, was repaying them with a trick. It was a Saturday afternoon in December two years later when Dale finally faced it. That morning he had stood for three hours, a loaded revolver at his right hand, a push-button to the alarm-gong under his left, and a silent alarm to the carpet at his feet, and with a million dollars in currency and coin stacked about him he had verified checks,-date, amount written and in figures, signature and counter-signature, name of payee and indorsements, with a lookout for erasures, had identified the man at the window, and had counted out good money at the average rate of his year's salary every two minutes. After counting his cash and returning it to the vault, with another check count as he stowed it away, he was tired. That morning he had nailed a cleverly raised check, too, from twelve to twelve hundred dollars, that few men, he fancied, would have detected. It may perhaps look easy to count money under pressure and push it through a hole and have it disappear, eight hundred dollars a minute, sixty minutes to the hour, for three mortal hours on end, and then check up for mistakes. Practice makes it possible, but always it takes the quickness and poise of a fencer, and the nerve of a limited engineer; and to do all this, return the stuff to the vault, and go home without dwelling upon certain perfectly obvious possibilities inherent in the situation take more even than nerve and quickness and poise and endurance. might almost be called "honesty." It Dale felt that this was worth the eighteen hundred dollars a year which his predecessor had received. In fact, he knew that it was worth more. Yet he found himself doing the work of an eighteenhundred-dollar man, and twenty per cent. more work than the eighteen-hundreddollar man had ever done, for a paltry fifteen hundred dollars. The bank had grown, the work and the responsibility of the paying teller had grown, and the remuneration had fallen off three hundred dollars. One semiannual had been passed without a raise. He strongly suspected the limit which had actually been set upon his salary. "Come in here a minute," he called to the assistant cashier, who was just passing the cage. "I want to talk to you." "What's the matter?" that gentleman. inquired genially. Dale disliked the "benevolent" pose of the young fellow, |