He wrote a few lines on a “Snappygram” blank, issued by an enterprising music publisher for the use of big executives.
“Just pass through this door to the next office. Mr. Harper is at his desk. You will pardon me. There are several people waiting to see me, I believe. Don’t hesitate to call on me when I can be of service. We'll meet soon again, I’m sure.”
He opened the door to the next office.
“Mr, Harper,” he said, “I want you to meet Miss Reitz and Mrs. Loamford. Miss Reitz has that open date at Aeolian.”
They entered a small office, where Hamilton Harper was dictating to a pretty young stenographer.
“-we want you to put over this concert in a big way,” they heard him dictate, “and we beg to advise you that the advertising material—just a minute, Classy.”
The stenographer poised her pencil. Hamilton Harper rose.
“Have a chair, ladies,” he said.
“You can do the rest of the mail now, Classy,” he added. “Come back later, Or go out and feed your face.”
[115]
