This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1922 Excerpt: ...businesslike Chamber of Commerce sort of haunting, that consists of recommendations. You don't think a fellow can haunt an office by means of recommendations; or, rather, by requests for recommendations? Try my job once. Notice the letters I get from snappy employment managers of stores, packing houses, railroads, and so on. Neat letters, with your name sticking through those tissue-covered holes in the envelopes, and a stamped return envelope. All very businesslike. The form generally reads: 'You will oblige us by confidential information about Blank Blank, who says he was employed by you in the years so-and-so; please advise promptly about his character, habits, application to duty; are you relative of applicant, would you re-employ, ' and all that tosh. It's through these that old Slater haunts us, fellows. And I always write cheerfully in the forms that he was an A-l newspaper-man, and is a guy perfectly sober and industrious. I guess I do this so as to lay the ghost; the ghost of his long, sad, grey face." Campbell takes out his cigar and says: "You can truthfully say that he was a first-class newspaper man. He was that, and more." "Then how did he blow up?" I inquire. The news editor and Campbell start to reply simultaneously, and beg pardon. "You tell it, then." "No; you know it better. You were here." So the narrative falls to the metaphysician, who exchanges for this occasion his delight in his illusory world for a certain twinkling zest in the drama of our groundling existence. Meanwhile we gaze vacantly upon the passing figures: Old men, young men, brisk persons, crippled persons, bob-haired women, shawl-covered women, beggars, toilers, blackguards. The personality and the story of Old Slater blend well...