CHAPTER XXXV
THE PASSING OF EFFORT: THE VISAGE OF CARE
The next morning he looked over the papers and waded through a long list of advertisements, making a few notes. Then he turned to the male-help-wanted column, but with disagreeable feelings. The day was before him—a long day in which to discover something—and this was how he must begin to discover. He scanned the long column, which mostly concerned bakers, bushelmen, cooks, compositors, drivers, and the like, finding two things only which arrested his eye. One was a cashier wanted in a wholesale furniture house, and the other a salesman for a whiskey house. He had never thought of the latter. At once he decided to look that up.
The firm in question was Alsbery & Co., whiskey brokers.
He was admitted almost at once to the manager on his appearance.
"Good-morning, sir," said the latter, thinking at first that he was encountering one of his out-of-town customers.
"Good-morning," said Hurstwood. "You advertised, I believe, for a salesman?"
"Oh," said the man, showing plainly the enlightenment which had come to him. "Yes. Yes, I did."
"I thought I'd drop in," said Hurstwood, with dignity. "I've had some experience in that line myself."
