No Jobs, But Vacancies.
Thefollowing story has been told and re-told years ago, in most every large telegraph office in the country, but has never appeared in print. The incident is quaint and worthy of a place in the literature of the telegraph.
Jake Tallman was a well known itinerant knight of the key and in the course of his meanderings found himself one summer day in the City of New Orleans. Tallman was a fine operator and a good, companionable fellow, but, as the boys used to say, it was as hard to enter the kingdom of heaven as it was to obtain a position in the New Orleans office. Considerable diplomacy was therefore necessary to ascertain the entering wedge.
There happened to be a vacancy in the office about the time of Tallman’s arrival and his old friend, Dick Babbitt, determined to assist in placing him.
David Flannery was the superintendent and he was a “Fine old Irish gintleman, one of the rare old kind.”
Babbitt related to his friend that it would be a good stunt to go to church the following Sunday and take a seat in Mr. Flannery’s pew and by some means attract that gentleman’s attention to his presence. This would serve to pave the way to an introduction the following day when he could plead his cause.
Acting on the suggestion, Tallman sallied to church a little ahead of the other worshippers, and asked for, and was escorted to the Flannery pew.
A few minutes later the superintendent came leisurely up the aisle and took his seat along side of his expectant employe.
Tallman was not familiar with the order of procedure in churches, but carefully watching others and followingtheir example he was able to pass off as one of the most devout. In the course of the services, he handed Mr. Flannery a book, who glanced at it and put it aside, giving the irrepressible Jake a stony glare which would seem to say that the young man did not know his business, and Tallman felt rebuked but not intimidated.
The following morning Tallman called at Mr. Flannery’s office and after the regular morning salutations had passed between them, he said:
“Mr. Flannery, I saw you at church yesterday.”
“Oh, you are the young man that sat in my pew and tried to show me some courtesies,” replied the affable superintendent.
Believing that he had created a good impression Tallman grew bolder, and said that he believed in going to church on Sunday and related an imaginary conversation in Omaha several years before. Flannery appeared interested and finally asked what service he could be to his visitor.
“Well, I tell you, Mr. Flannery, I am an operator and I am looking for a job and I understand you have a job here at the present time.”
Mr. Flannery placed his spectacles on the end of his nose and giving the applicant a very severe look, which was intended as a reprimand, ejaculated in an icy tone:
“Young man, I want yees to know, that my operators are all gintlemen. We don’t have ‘jobs’ here, but we sometimes have vacancies.”