Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers
"Do you really look for anything when you go out?" she asked
Hurstwood one morning as a climax to some painful thoughts of
"Of course I do," he said pettishly, troubling only a little over the
disgrace of the insinuation.
"I’d take anything," she said, "for the present. It will soon be the
first of the month again."
She looked the picture of despair.
Hurstwood quit reading his paper and changed his clothes.
"He would look for something," he thought. "He would go and see
if some brewery couldn’t get him in somewhere. Yes, he would
take a position as bartender, if he could get it."
It was the same sort of pilgrimage he had made before. One or
two slight rebuffs, and the bravado disappeared.
"No use," he thought. "I might as well go on back home."
Now that his money was so low, he began to observe his clothes
and feel that even his best ones were beginning to look
commonplace. This was a bitter thought.
Carrie came in after he did.
"I went to see some of the variety managers," she said, aimlessly.
"You have to have an act. They don’t want anybody that hasn’t."
"I saw some of the brewery people to-day," said Hurstwood. "One
man told me he’d try to make a place for me in two or three
In the face of so much distress on Carrie’s part, he had to make
some showing, and it was thus he did so. It was lassitude’s
apology to energy.
Monday Carrie went again to the Casino.
"Did I tell you to come around to-day?" said the manager, looking
her over as she stood before him.
"You said the first of the week," said Carrie, greatly abashed.
"Ever had any experience?" he asked again, almost severely.
Carrie owned to ignorance.
He looked her over again as he stirred among some papers. He
was secretly pleased with this pretty, disturbed-looking young
woman. "Come around to the theatre to-morrow morning."
Carrie’s heart bounded to her throat.
"I will," she said with difficulty. She could see he wanted her, and
"Would he really put her to work? Oh, blessed fortune, could it
Already the hard rumble of the city through the open windows
A sharp voice answered her mental interrogation, driving away all
immediate fears on that score.
"Be sure you’re there promptly," the manager said roughly.
"You’ll be dropped if you’re not."
Carrie hastened away. She did not quarrel now with Hurstwood’s
idleness. She had a place-she had a place! This sang in her ears.
In her delight she was almost anxious to tell Hurstwood. But, as
she walked homeward, and her survey of the facts of the case
became larger, she began to think of the anomaly of her finding
work in several weeks and his lounging in idleness for a number
"Why don’t he get something?" she openly said to herself. "If I
can he surely ought to. It wasn’t very hard for me."
She forgot her youth and her beauty. The handicap of age she did
not, in her enthusiasm, perceive.
Thus, ever, the voice of success.
Still, she could not keep her secret. She tried to be calm and
indifferent, but it was a palpable sham.
"Well?" he said, seeing her relieved face.
"I have a place."