1938-02-25 — Page 13

IT

CHINA MAIL

FRIDAY SUPPLEMENT,

WAS Goethe who said: “Let

the shoemaker stick to his last, the peasant to his plough, and let the prince understand how to rule."

To Thomas Cobley "Uncle Tom," as he was otherwise known Arrow among the hands of the Shoe Manufacturing Co.-the words had always held a world of truth; for, just as old John Yar- row, în steering the policy of the firm from the sanctum of his small and unpretentious office, had ruled for forty-three adventurous years as a king of his trade, so had Cobley stuck only to his appointed task and seen to it that the work- ers under him had done the same. If he went out of his way to preach on any and every possible occasion that there was an "Ar- rer shoe for everybody"—well, his enthusiasm was allowable, harm- less enough; and the five hundred- factory hands who were all shod in Arrow shoes would support him in his belief. Or so he had al- ways thought.

But there was one hand—a girl who had been no more than three weeks in the employ of the firm; a girl whom Cobley had to ac- knowledge was the most efficient in her work, if the most mystify- ing in her personality—who had other ideas. She had left the fac- tory, that evening, wearing shoes that had been made by a rival firm; and Cobley, who was no- thing if not loyal to Yarrow, had taken her to task for it.

The quick exchange of words, however, did not result in an ad- vantage to him. The girl had merely whipped off one of the of- fending shoes, and held it rout towards him, with the retort:

"See here, Uncle Tom, if old man Yarrow would only wake up and make something like this, the Ar- row Shoe Co., wouldn't be so near to being driven out of business, and you'd feel more secure in your job. Oh, I know you're going to tell me that our shoes represent the highest possible value, that every stitch in them is done by hand, and that hey're the shoes for comfort. But unless a girl wants to look like a hoyden she asks for something more than that. She wants style; some- thing elegant, something chic. Well, you don't find that in the Arrow Shoe. What was fashionable four years ago won't do for to- day. Our designs are old, Uncle Tom; you know it, and there isn't a high-class shop that wouldn't tell you the same. I went to one last week, so I know what I'm saying "That firm's dropped off, Madam,' they said. "Suddenly went to sleep about four years ago-just when they'd got all the business. It's still a good shoe, of course. But if you want, something smart -have the Vandyck every time. Nasty, wasn't it? But it's best to face facts, and if you were to tell old man Yarrow all I've said you'd be doing him a service.”

Cobley wondered: White of face, and a little shaken by unexpected forcefulness of words, he watched the last of the workers clock out at the end of their day. and then went slowly. very tiredly back to his corner in the factory, to think it all out,

2

the

her

He tried to believe that all this. talk of the firm having dropped

FEBRUARY 25, 1938

COBLEY'S LAST

back during the last four years. was moonshine. More particular- ly, he tried to convince. himself that it had nothing to do with the fact that Yarrow had, those four year ago, quarrelled with his son and dismissed him, from the firm as well as from his life. But it was significant that, when half- an-hour had passed, and most of the factory was wrapped in darkness, he made his way

to- wards old Yarrow's office, and tapped on the door, with the girl's words still hammering in his brain.

His breathing then was un- even; one hand that held a shoe upon which he had laboured during the day was quivering; and under the scrutiny of the dull and hepatic eye which Yarrow turned upon him, his nerves were ticking, and he looked a rather pitiable old man.

"I hope, sir." he said, rubbing a hide-stained hand down the front of his apron, "I'm not dis- turbing you just as you was think- ing of going home, but I left it till now because I felt you'd been busy like."

Yarrow had.' An irascible old man; a man who would be de- fiant, to the end, of the ruin with which he was faced, he had mus- tered his travellers before him that morning, questioned them as to their activities, condemned them for their unsuccessful issue, sneered at their individual cuses and as good as called them liars to their faces.

ex-

The meeting over, he had jour- neyed to his bank, expressed the opinion that, compared with the humanity of money lenders they

Short Story

were blood suckers, and warned them, that a continuance of their arbitrary manner could result only in the filing of his petition. Back again to the privacy of his office he had insulted his secretary with his tirades and forthwith dis- charged the unhappy woman be- cause she attempted to remon- strate with him.

"I-I was wondering about the 'eel, sir," he began nervously.

"The heel? Well, what's the matter with the heel?"

shade

"I was wondering, if I might say so, sir, if if we oughtn't p'raps to make it just a 'igher a little less-"

"Rot, man-rot. The heel's a good one. Why,d-it, haven't,

we used it before?"

have;

"That's true, sir; we and it is a good 'eel. But I-I was wondering if we oughtn't p'raps to 'ave something a little different like. II sort of feel that since Mr. Richard went out o' the-"

"I'll listen to your views with- out your bringing my son's name into it, d'you understand?" Yar- row rasped in angrily. "Go "on."

What I mean

"I'm sorry, sir. to say is that if we had some- thing newer we'd sort of get in line with the other firms-if you get my meaning?”

"What other firms, man?”” · "Well, there-there's the Vand- yck Co., sir. They-"

"The Vandyck!" he sneered con- temptuously. The Vandyck! Do we care about the Vandyck? Eh? Tell me."

Cobley did so. He did not re- veal the fact that one of Yarrow's own work girls had walked out of his factory with a páir of Vand- yck shoes on her feet; rather, he suggested, with all due defer ence to Mr. Yarrow, that however indiscriminating the purchasers did, nevertheless, represent majority, and that by meeting. their demands the Vandyck Co. had acquired a vast amount of business which should have been. theirs, but which might yet be

By Frank Crew

the

retrieved if they were to com- pete against them.

It all came out very slowly, very painfully; it cost old Cobley a great effort, and at the end, his large blue eyes-rather like those of a dog who looked implor; ingly towards his master-were misted in a way that would have moved the most hardened heart.

But it moved, Yarrow to a fit of ungovernable fury. The third that he had had that day.

"In short, Cobley," he rapped out, addressing him by his sur name for the first time in their long years of association. “you're

Yet, as he looked up now at the old man who had served him. so faithfully during the three and forty years of his business, there came into his eyes, so dulled and tired by the strain of lone fight- ing, a light of pleasure; and with his stubborn refusal defeat he was quick and admit trying to tell me that the

a little proud to look upon the shoe that Cobley held in his hand,

"That's all right, Tom. Sit down. I see you've got the new model with you. Let's have a look at it." He took the shoe from Cobley's quivering hand, and he examined it critically. "Hm-yes. Yes. Well, what d'you think of it?"

Cobley hesitated. An hour ago he had looked at the shoe with par donable pride, believing in it hoping for its success. Now the very brightness of his hope was clouded by the turmoil of hig thoughts and fears,

•

Vandyck Co. know how to make a shoe, and that I don't.......... Well, let me tell you this. The people who work in my firm believe in my firm, and whenever a man's been disloyal to me, in thought or deed, I've given him his notice to go. I've never made any ex- ception; I've no intention of do- ing so now. Do I make myself clear?"

Old Cobley bowed his head. It might have been in assent; Yar- row thought it was; indeed, as he watched him get up very slow- ly from his chair and go towards, the door, he found consolation in the thought that the old man's

gestures were those of shame. "But oddly enough, it took the eyes, the understanding of the girl who'd worn the Vandyck shoes 10 see that some dark, unspeakable thing had extinguished the lamp in the old man's life, and left him groping in the darkness of de- spair.

"You're not mad with me for what I said last night, are you, Uncle Tom?" she asked him, the following morning.

"Eh?" said old Cobley, strug- gling out of his dark, lost world. "No, my gal; no, of course not, There now."

"And" She put a hand down on his arm, and studied him in- tently "of course, you didn't tell the old man Yarrow anything that I said, did you?”

"And" She put a hand down "No." he said, in strange, cracked voice.

But the very suddenness with which he turned away to hide his feelings belied it; and with the certain knowledge

of what he had tried to conceal, she rush- ed through the swing doors and made for Yarrow's office.

It wasn't difficult; she'd mark- ed the door, not once but many times during the three weeks of her strange mission in the Arrow Factory. She'd known that soon- er or later the moment would come when she would have to tap upon the door, go inside, and see. old Yarrow sitting there. Only, she hadn't quite prepared her- self for seeing him broken up in the way he was; hadn't quite pre- pared herself for hearing him say: “Well?" in the tired tone of a man who had put up a terrible tight and then been beaten.

“I work under Mr. Cobley," she said.

And again. he said, as lifelessly as before: “Well?”

"I believe you have given him notice to leave."

"And if I have, does that con- cern you?" he asked, with a little more spirit than before.

"It does. He was not express- ing his own opinion; he was voic- ́ing mine."

"Indeed!" Old Yarrow sat up. He stared at her perplexedly, and he passed his hand across his eyes.

"Yes. I told him that the Ar- row Shoe, Co. had been asleep for four years. I told him that · the Vandyck Co. were beating you out of business. And I can tell you that your losses over the past year, have been no less than ten thousand pounds.”

..

Old Farrow's face paled. It was an ugly sign; for it usually preceded his fits of temper. But __something in the very calmness with which she stood and address- ed him forced him to keep him- self under control. The girl had pluck, he thought. By God, she'd pluck! Even when ruin faced him more certainly than it had ever done before, he could sit back, study and admire her.

But per- haps it was that, in reaching the end, he felt his loneliness most acutely, and because, in his lone- liness, his thoughts went "off at a tangent to his son who was as dead to him, to the wife never seen. A fool boy son Richard! Might have mar- ried a girl like this for the-ask- (Continued on Page 7)

he'd his