Delphi Complete Works of Stephen Leacock, page 78
OUR LITERARY BUREAU
[FOOTNOTE: THIS LITERARY bureau was started by the author in the New York Century. It leaped into such immediate prominence that it had to be closed at once.]
NOVELS READ TO ORDER
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NO TASTE REQUIRED
NOTHING BUT MONEY
SEND IT TO US
We have lately been struck, — of course not dangerously, — by a new idea. A recent number of a well-known magazine contains an account of an American multimillionaire who, on account of the pressure of his brain power and the rush of his business, found it impossible to read the fiction of the day for himself. He therefore caused his secretaries to look through any new and likely novel and make a rapid report on its contents, indicating for his personal perusal the specially interesting parts.
Realizing the possibilities coiled up in this plan, we have opened a special agency or bureau for doing work of this sort. Any over-busy multimillionaire, or superman, who becomes our client may send us novels, essays, or books of any kind, and will receive a report explaining the plot and pointing out such parts as he may with propriety read. If he can once find time to send us a postcard, or a postal cablegram, night or day, we undertake to assume all the further effort of reading. Our terms for ordinary fiction are one dollar per chapter; for works of travel, 10 cents per mile; and for political or other essays, two cents per page, or ten dollars per idea, and for theological and controversial work, seven dollars and fifty cents per cubic yard extracted. Our clients are assured of prompt and immediate attention.
Through the kindness of the Editor of the Century we are enabled to insert here a sample of our work. It was done to the order of a gentleman of means engaged in silver mining in Colorado, who wrote us that he was anxious to get “a holt” on modern fiction, but that he had no time actually to read it. On our assuring him that this was now unnecessary, he caused to be sent to us the monthly parts of a serial story, on which we duly reported as follows:
JANUARY INSTALMENT
Theodolite Gulch,
The Dip, Canon County,
Colorado.
Dear Sir:
We beg to inform you that the scene of the opening chapter of the Fortunes of Barbara Plynlimmon is laid in Wales. The scene is laid, however, very carelessly and hurriedly and we expect that it will shortly be removed. We cannot, therefore, recommend it to your perusal. As there is a very fine passage describing the Cambrian Hills by moonlight, we enclose herewith a condensed table showing the mean altitude of the moon for the month of December in the latitude of Wales. The character of Miss Plynlimmon we find to be developed in conversation with her grandmother, which we think you had better not read. Nor are we prepared to endorse your reading the speeches of the Welsh peasantry which we find in this chapter, but we forward herewith in place of them a short glossary of Welsh synonyms which may aid you in this connection.
FEBRUARY INSTALMENT
Dear Sir:
We regret to state that we find nothing in the second chapter of the Fortunes of Barbara Plynlimmon which need be reported to you at length. We think it well, however, to apprise you of the arrival of a young Oxford student in the neighbourhood of Miss Plynlimmon’s cottage, who is apparently a young man of means and refinement. We enclose a list of the principal Oxford Colleges.
We may state that from the conversation and manner of this young gentleman there is no ground for any apprehension on your part. But if need arises we will report by cable to you instantly.
The young gentleman in question meets Miss Plynlimmon at sunrise on the slopes of Snowdon. As the description of the meeting is very fine we send you a recent photograph of the sun.
MARCH INSTALMENT
Dear Sir:
Our surmise was right. The scene of the story that we are digesting for you is changed. Miss Plynlimmon has gone to London. You will be gratified to learn that she has fallen heir to a fortune of 100,000 pounds, which we are happy to compute for you at $486,666 and 66 cents less exchange. On Miss Plynlimmon’s arrival at Charing Cross Station, she is overwhelmed with that strange feeling of isolation felt in the surging crowds of a modern city. We therefore enclose a timetable showing the arrival and departure of all trains at Charing Cross.
APRIL INSTALMENT
Dear Sir:
We beg to bring to your notice the fact that Miss Barbara Plynlimmon has by an arrangement made through her trustees become the inmate, on a pecuniary footing, in the household of a family of title. We are happy to inform you that her first appearance at dinner in evening dress was most gratifying: we can safely recommend you to read in this connection lines 4 and 5 and the first half of line 6 on page 1OO of the book as enclosed. We regret to say that the Marquis of Slush and his eldest son Viscount Fitzbuse (courtesy title) are both addicted to drink. They have been drinking throughout the chapter. We are pleased to state that apparently the second son, Lord Radnor of Slush, who is away from home is not so addicted. We send you under separate cover a bottle of Radnor water.
MAY INSTALMENT
Dear Sir:
We regret to state that the affairs of Miss Barbara Plynlimmon are in a very unsatisfactory position. We enclose three pages of the novel with the urgent request that you will read them at once. The old Marquis of Slush has made approaches towards Miss Plynlimmon of such a scandalous nature that we think it best to ask you to read them in full. You will note also that young Viscount Slush who is tipsy through whole of pages 121-125, 128-133, and part of page 140, has designs upon her fortune. We are sorry to see also that the Marchioness of Buse under the guise of friendship has insured Miss Plynlimmon’s life and means to do away with her. The sister of the Marchioness, the Lady Dowager, also wishes to do away with her. The second housemaid who is tempted by her jewellery is also planning to do away with her. We feel that if this goes on she will be done away with.
JUNE INSTALMENT
Dear Sir:
We beg to advise you that Viscount Fitz-buse, inflamed by the beauty and innocence of Miss Plynlimmon, has gone so far as to lay his finger on her (read page 170, lines 6-7). She resisted his approaches. At the height of the struggle a young man, attired in the costume of a Welsh tourist, but wearing the stamp of an Oxford student, and yet carrying himself with the unmistakable hauteur (we knew it at once) of an aristocrat, burst, or bust, into the room. With one blow he felled Fitz-buse to the floor; with another he clasped the girl to his heart.
“Barbara!” he exclaimed.
“Radnor,” she murmured.
You will be pleased to learn that this is the second son of the Marquis, Viscount Radnor, just returned from a reading tour in Wales.
P. S. We do not know what he read, so we enclose a file of Welsh newspapers to date.
JULY INSTALMENT
We regret to inform you that the Marquis of Slush has disinherited his son. We grieve to state that Viscount Radnor has sworn that he will never ask for Miss Plynlimmon’s hand till he has a fortune equal to her own. Meantime, we are sorry to say, he proposes to work.
AUGUST INSTALMENT
The Viscount is seeking employment.
SEPTEMBER INSTALMENT
The Viscount is looking for work.
OCTOBER INSTALMENT
The Viscount is hunting for a job.
NOVEMBER INSTALMENT
We are most happy to inform you that Miss Plynlimmon has saved the situation. Determined to be worthy of the generous love of Viscount Radnor, she has arranged to convey her entire fortune to the old family lawyer who acts as her trustee. She will thus become as poor as the Viscount and they can marry. The scene with the old lawyer who breaks into tears on receiving the fortune, swearing to hold and cherish it as his own is very touching. Meantime, as the Viscount is hunting for a job, we enclose a list of advertisements under the heading Help Wanted — Males.
DECEMBER INSTALMENT
You will be very gratified to learn that the fortunes of Miss Barbara Plynlimmon have come to a most pleasing termination. Her marriage with the Viscount Radnor was celebrated very quietly on page 231. (We enclose a list of the principal churches in London.) No one was present except the old family lawyer, who was moved to tears at the sight of the bright, trusting bride, and the clergyman who wept at the sight of the cheque given him by the Viscount. After the ceremony the old trustee took Lord and Lady Radnor to a small wedding breakfast at an hotel (we enclose a list). During the breakfast a sudden faintness (for which we had been watching for ten pages) overcame him. He sank back in his chair, gasping. Lord and Lady Radnor rushed to him and sought in vain to tighten his necktie. He expired under their care, having just time to indicate in his pocket a will leaving them his entire wealth.
This had hardly happened when a messenger brought news to the Viscount that his brother, Lord Fitz-buse had been killed in the hunting field, and that he (meaning him, himself) had now succeeded to the title. Lord and Lady Fitz-buse had hardly time to reach the town house of the family when they learned that owing to the sudden death of the old Marquis (also, we believe, in the hunting field), they had become the Marquis and the Marchioness of Slush.
The Marquis and the Marchioness of Slush are still living in their ancestral home in London. Their lives are an example to all their tenantry in Piccadilly, the Strand and elsewhere.
CONCLUDING NOTE
Dear Mr. Gulch:
We beg to acknowledge with many thanks your cheque for one thousand dollars.
We regret to learn that you have not been able to find time to read our digest of the serial story placed with us at your order. But we note with pleasure that you propose to have the “essential points” of our digest “boiled down” by one of the business experts of your office.
Awaiting your commands,
We remain, etc., etc.
SPEEDING UP BUSINESS
WE WERE SITTING at our editorial desk in our inner room, quietly writing up our week’s poetry, when a stranger looked in upon us.
He came in with a burst, — like the entry of the hero of western drama coming in out of a snowstorm. His manner was all excitement. “Sit down,” we said, in our grave, courteous way. “Sit down!” he exclaimed, “certainly not! Are you aware of the amount of time and energy that are being wasted in American business by the practice of perpetually sitting down and standing up again? Do you realize that every time you sit down and stand up you make a dead lift of” — he looked at us,— “two hundred and fifty pounds? Did you ever reflect that every time you sit down you have to get up again?” “Never,” we said quietly, “we never thought of it.” “You didn’t!” he sneered. “No, you’d rather go on lifting 250 pounds through two feet, — an average of 500 foot-pounds, practically 62 kilowatts of wasted power. Do you know that by merely hitching a pulley to the back of your neck you could generate enough power to light your whole office?”
We hung our heads. Simple as the thing was, we had never thought of it. “Very good,” said the Stranger. “Now, all American business men are like you. They don’t think, — do you understand me? They don’t think.”
We realized the truth of it at once. We had never thought. Perhaps we didn’t even know how.
“Now, I tell you,” continued our visitor, speaking rapidly and with a light of wild enthusiasm in his face, “I’m out for a new campaign, — efficiency in business — speeding things up — better organization.”
“But surely,” we said, musingly, “we have seen something about this lately in the papers?” “Seen it, sir,” he exclaimed, “I should say so. It’s everywhere. It’s a new movement. It’s in the air. Has it never struck you how a thing like this can be seen in the air?”
Here again we were at fault. In all our lives we had never seen anything in the air. We had never even looked there. “Now,” continued the Stranger, “I want your paper to help. I want you to join in. I want you to give publicity.”
“Assuredly,” we said, with our old-fashioned politeness. “Anything which concerns the welfare, the progress, if one may so phrase it—” “Stop,” said the visitor. “You talk too much. You’re prosy. Don’t talk. Listen to me. Try and fix your mind on what I am about to say.”
We fixed it. The Stranger’s manner became somewhat calmer. “I am heading,” he said, “the new American efficiency movement. I have sent our circulars to fifty thousand representative firms, explaining my methods. I am receiving ten thousand answers a day” — here he dragged a bundle of letters out of his pocket— “from Maine, from New Hampshire, from Vermont,”— “Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Connecticut,” we murmured.
“Exactly,” he said; “from every State in the Union — from the Philippines, from Porto Rico, and last week I had one from Canada.” “Marvellous,” we said; “and may one ask what your new methods are?”
“You may,” he answered. “It’s a proper question. It’s a typical business question, fair, plain, clean, and even admitting of an answer. The great art of answering questions,” he continued, “is to answer at once without loss of time, friction or delay in moving from place to place. I’ll answer it.”
“Do,” we said.
“I will,” said the Stranger. “My method is first: to stimulate business to the highest point by infusing into it everywhere the spirit of generous rivalry, of wholesome competition; by inviting each and every worker to outdo each and every other.”
“And can they do it?” we asked, puzzled and yet fascinated. “Can they all do it?”
“They do, and they can,” said the Stranger. “The proof of it is that they are doing it. Listen. Here is an answer to my circular No. 6, Efficiency and Recompense, that came in this morning. It is from a steel firm. Listen.” The Stranger picked out a letter and read it.
Dear Sir:
Our firm is a Steel Corporation. We roll rails. As soon as we read your circular on the Stimulus of Competition we saw that there were big things in it. At once we sent one of our chief managers to the rolling, mill. He carried a paper bag in his hand. “Now boys,” he said, “every man who rolls a rail gets a gum-drop.” The effect was magical. The good fellows felt a new stimulus. They now roll out rails like dough. Work is a joy to them. Every Saturday night the man who has rolled most gets a blue ribbon; the man who has rolled the next most, a green ribbon; the next most a yellow ribbon, and so on through the spectroscope. The man who rolls least gets only a red ribbon. It is a real pleasure to see the brave fellows clamouring for their ribbons. Our output, after defraying the entire cost of the ribbons and the gum-drops, has increased forty per cent. We intend to carry the scheme further by allowing all the men who get a hundred blue ribbons first, to exchange them for the Grand Efficiency Prize of the firm, — a pink ribbon. This the winner will be entitled to wear whenever and wherever he sees fit to wear it.
The stranger paused for breath.
“Marvellous,” we said. “There is no doubt the stimulus of keen competition—”
“Shut up,” he said impatiently. “Let me explain it further. Competition is only part of it. An item just as big that makes for efficiency is to take account of the little things. It’s the little things that are never thought of.”
Here was another wonder! We realized that we had never thought of them. “Take an example,” the Stranger continued. “I went into a hotel the other day. What did I see? Bell-boys being summoned upstairs every minute, and flying up in the elevators. Yes, — and every time they went up they had to come down again. I went up to the manager. I said, ‘I can understand that when your guests ring for the bell-boys they have to go up. But why should they come down? Why not have them go up and never come down?’ He caught the idea at once. That hotel is transformed. I have a letter from the manager stating that they find it fifty per cent. cheaper to hire new bell-boys instead of waiting for the old ones to come down.”
“These results,” we said, “are certainly marvellous. “You are most assuredly to be congratulated on—”
“You talk too much,” said the Stranger. “Don’t do it. Learn to listen. If a young man comes to me for advice in business, — and they do in hundreds, lots of them, — almost in tears over their inefficiency, — I’d say, ‘Young man, never talk, listen; answer, but don’t speak.’ But even all this is only part of the method. Another side of it is technique.”
“Technique?” we said, pleased but puzzled.
“Yes, the proper use of machine devices. Take the building trade. I’ve revolutionized it. Till now all the bricks even for a high building were carried up to the mason in hods. Madness! Think of the waste of it. By my method instead of carrying the bricks to the mason we take the mason to the brick, — lower him on a wire rope, give him a brick, and up he goes again. As soon as he wants another brick he calls down, ‘I want a brick,’ and down he comes like lightning.”
“This,” we said, “is little short of—”
“Cut it out. Even that is not all. Another thing bigger than any is organization. Half the business in this country is not organized. As soon as I sent out my circular, No. 4, HAVE YOU ORGANIZED YOUR BUSINESS! I got answers in thousands! Heart-broken, many of them. They had never thought of it! Here, for example, is a letter written by a plain man, a gardener, just an ordinary man, a plain man—”
“Yes,” we said, “quite so.”
“Well, here is what he writes:
Dear Sir:
As soon as I got your circular I read it all through from end to end, and I saw that all my failure in the past had come from my not being organized. I sat and thought a long while and I decided that I would organize myself. I went right in to the house and I said to my wife, “Jane, I’m going to organize myself.” She said, “Oh, John!” — and not another word, but you should have seen the look on her face. So the next morning I got up early and began to organize myself. It was hard at first but I stuck to it. There were times when I felt as if I couldn’t do it. It seemed too hard. But bit by bit I did it and now, thank God, I am organized. I wish all men like me could know the pleasure I feel in being organized.”
