It had been a busy morning. The boy was spending
his first summer working " in the store".
He had spent several summers working for Mr. Page
in the feed shed, but this summer he was working in
the store. The store was a large building right near
Ganges Harbour. When you came in the front door there
was a great open space stretching across to a wide
staircase. This staircase went halfway up to the second
floor and then the stairs divided from this landing
and led up the offices and dry goods section on the
second floor.
Downstairs on the right was a grocery section. There
was a long counter stretching the full length of the
store with just one break in it about half way to
let the clerks have access to the shelves. On the
left hand side was the ice cream and pop counter and
then the drugs and hardware. On each side of the store
behind the counter there was a ladder to get the stock
from the higher shelves. There were all sorts of interesting
things in the grocery section: a large round of cheese
with a great hinged cleaver to slice it, a big block
of dates that were loosened with a spike, a coffee
grinder- by turning the handle you could grind coffee
beans- and there was almost always a large bunch of
bananas hanging from the ceiling. It was much better
working in here than the feed shed.
When the decision was made for his transfer to the
store, the boy thought that he would be waiting on
customers and writing charge slips. He could write
legibly, he could multiply, and he could add with
a degree of competency. Mr. Stacey, a clerk in the
grocery section, explained the intricacies of writing
a charge slip, but the boy knew all about those. He
also knew there was a list of people to whom no credit
was extended. He was told most explicitly that under
no circumstances was he to charge anything to anybody
on that list. He was to ask them to see his Uncle
Gilbert or his father in the office. But most of the
time instead of waiting on customers and writing charge
slips, he was sweeping, dusting, running errands,
or filling shelves. Filling shelves was best, for
he could roll the ladder along and climb up to the
top and look all around the store.
Now it was twelve noon and Mr. Norton and Mr. Stacey
were going to lunch. The boy was to tend the grocery
counter on his own. He hoped somebody would come in
to shop! But please, not one of those people on the
No Credit list. He wanted someone to come in with
a great large grocery list and charge everything.
Then he could record the whole transaction on a charge
slip. He stood behind the counter and waited. There
was work to do; he still hadn't finished filling the
shelves. There was a case of cornstarch and two cases
of cereal- one Roman Meal and one Cream of Wheat-
to go on the shelves. He could do that later, if only
a customer would come in!
He had better start to work; he really should have
those cases on the shelves before Mr. Norton and Mr.
Stacey come back from lunch. He pulled the flaps back
on the on the first case and rolled the ladder along
and got to work. He was just about to put the last
two boxes on the shelf when a customer came through
the door. It was Mrs. R and she was carrying her cloth
shopping bag. You could recognize Mrs. R, she always
dressed in the same way. She was wearing her tweed
suit and her hat was firmly fixed with a large hatpin.
A lot of ladies wore hatpins and the boy wondered
how they managed to push them in without going straight
through their heads. Mrs. R kept house for a local
bachelor. She couldn’t have been a very good
housekeeper, because the boy recalled hearing his
father tell his mother that Mrs. R was now working
as a housekeeper, and his mother had said, "Housekeeper
indeed!"
Mrs. R came right over to the grocery counter. "Well,
dear, you are all on your own?"
"Yes, Mrs. R, Mr. Norton and Mr. Stacey are having
their lunch, and I am in charge of the grocery counter."
“Well, dear, I am going to make a lot of lemon
pies and I want a large bottle of lemon extract.”
Mother was right, Mrs. R couldn’t be a very
good housekeeper. Everyone knew you used fresh lemons
to make lemon pies. For some reason unknown to him,
the extracts were always kept under the counter, so
he reached down and got a large bottle of lemon extract
and put it on the counter. “ Would you like
to charge that to your account, Mrs. R?” “If
you please, dear.”
Ah, good, he would write a charge slip- July 7, 1932.
Mrs. R. One bottle of lemon extract. 75 cents.
Mrs. R put the bottle of lemon extract in her shopping
bag and left and the boy returned to stocking the
shelves. He had just finished putting the last of
the Roman Meal on the shelf when Mrs. R returned.
“I was just turning on to Rainbow Road when
I met poor old Mrs. Ward. When she told me she was
coming all the way down here to get a bottle of lemon
extract, I gave her mine so she wouldn’t have
that extra long walk. So dear, would you please give
another bottle of lemon extract and add it to my bill.”
So the bill was changed- two bottles of lemon extract-
@75 cents- $1.50. He had no sooner started to put
the last case on the shelf when Mrs. R returned. “Oh
dear, I just got out of the store when I dropped my
bottle of lemon extract, so you will have to let me
have another, and add it to my bill. The boy felt
sorry for Mrs. R, but she would have to pay for the
broken bottle, so the bill was changed again - three
bottles lemon extract - @ 75 cents - $2.25.
Shortly after Mrs. R left, Mr. Norton and Mr. Stacey
returned. Then as the boy would not be waiting on
any more customers for the day, he tore out the charge
slip and sent it up to the office. He was just about
to go out to work in the storeroom when he saw his
father come down the stairs. In his hand he had a
sales slip, and addressing the boy he asked, “What
do you mean by selling that woman three large bottles
of lemon extract?” “Well Dad, she bought
one large bottle because she was going to make a lot
of lemon pies. Then she started home and met Mrs.
Ward coming down for the very same thing. So to save
Mrs. Ward a long walk, she gave her hers. Then she
broke the second bottle and had to have another one.”
“Rubbish!” Said his father and returned
to the office.
Standing beside the boy, Mr. Norton had heard the
exchange. The boy looked up at him. Mr. Norton had
a habit of making a loud clicking sound with his tongue
and back teeth. He now made a very loud clicking sound,
and looking down at the boy, said, “ She’s
drinkin’ it!”
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