Eight
THE MHX WHISTLE
February 26, 1945
RIGHT OFF THE FLOOR
By
NEWS OF OUR NEW YORK OFFICES
“WIG” — Pinch-Hitting For A. S. KRAMER
Karastan: 295 Fifth Avenue
Domestics: 82 Worth Street
(Ed. Note; Our popular columnist,
“Wig” was missing from this page last
issue. Perhaps his absence was due to
celebrating his—er—36th (hie) birth
day. Now let’s krite us.
his column last yey, who is an opera-
years. My, Wig, hospital is getting
Very few of us can
of adding three ney, of Washington,
just tv.^elve montlek with her parents,
to! We make no cl)ck, of the Navy,
If Wig says he is c last week with his
do you want to i
know whether theho has ben serving
sitting on Mrs. O’Ine Pacific, is spend-
of the Chicago fire, wife and relatives.
Leary sitting on M g/c of Washington,
not, but we do knoth her parents, Mr.
it would have start.
bring in the fable Vif the Army, spent
lamp anyway?)
Popular Birthday Month
February seems to be a popular month
with Lincoln and Washington’s birth
days ... to say nothing of our own
February babies . . . Alice Coogan,
Betty Mac, Ester Chait, Dink Singer,
Tom Ducey, and Wig, who just turned
36 AGAIN.
(Note: Wig’s been 36 since the great
Chicago fire ... as a matter of fact,
there’s a rumor around town he had
Mrs. O’Leary on his lap at the time.)
I notice my girl Friday reads all my
mail.
Welcome Home
Our Betty Mac returned to the office
fit as a fiddle and ready for work, and
was received with open arms. Nice to
have you back with us Bettekins, even
with the additional half ounce of weight
you put on.
New Additions to the Family
We greet Gloria La Macchia and wish
her good luck, and know she will like
working with us.
As for Dan Boone, now you see him,
now you don’t . . . for we no sooner had
a glimpse of him, then off he went . . .
back to Washington. Cheer up gals, he’ll
return to us ... we hope.
Headline
From the Daily News Record of Jan
uary 25th . . . “W.P.B. PANTS FREEZE
and'here we end quote, though the
origninal line read “W.P.B. PANTS
FREEZE ORDER.” Mighty cold in
Washington.
Visitors
Messrs. Arthur Whitehead and Homer
Vernon from our Personnel Office. Mr.
Luther Hodges very nicely had them
meet your humble reporter. Mr. Vernon
said nothing ... just looked . . . Arthur
Whitehead said nothing . . . just looked
and we couldn’t help wondering about
what they must have been thinking.
Well, anyway fellows, come up again,
and in the meantime. I’ll do a little
checking and see if I can’t rib you both
a little by the time you make the next,
trip. Howard Sheffield, please note!
Another Paper Hanger
Tom Ducey, our baby saleman, de
cided to paper his kitchen. Need we
say more? . . , after the walls were
papered, they missed one of the child
ren, and one window had disappeared .
. . it seems Tommy boy covered every
thing in sight. Mrs. Ducey went to
work and to the rescue and set every
thing in order, and Tommy went on to
tell us, “there’s nothing to papering a
room, if you know how.”
So Help Us
It’s the truth . . . Dink Singer lives
away out thar in the hills of Old Sands
Point. During these snowy days. Dink
finds it a little difficult to get to the
station . . . but nothing stops our boy .
. . He merely dons his skiis, takes off
zoom, zoom, down he goes to the sta
tion, arriving just in time to step out of
his skiis and boards the train . . . All
aboard!
More Birthday
Ann Matvick celebrated her birthday
on January 27th . . . and our shy Wil
liam Lloyd Pierce promptly took ad
vantage of the occasion.
Vive La France
Ester Chait will soon compete with
the Perfume Counter in our own Re
tail, for she’s been getting packages
containing perfume from friend Hus
band who is stationed in Paris ... o la,
la.
A Play Without Words
Place: New York Office
Time: 9 A.M. January—4 degrees
above Zero.
Scene: Show room
During the night a steampipe burst .
result of course, no heat.
Players: Office help, as they come to
life.
Blanche: Seen working at switch
board in fur coat, mittens and ear muf
fs, which accounted for the wrong
numbers.
Wilbur: Seen working in his Derby
hat and ear muffs, and a mighty man
was he.
Flynn: Mighty cheerful about the
whole thing, which aroused our suspi
cions. He informed us he was wearing
‘long handled underwear”.
Velma: In a fur coat standing in Mr.
Thompson’s office with her back to the
radiator, hoping . . . and saying, “you
all have the damndest weather up
here.”
Ducey: Throughly enjoying himself .
He’s from Milwaukee, where Eskimo
pies are sold all winter, and the Good
Humor man is a reality.
Singer; Shades of Admiral Byrd . . .
Dink all wrapped up a Parka.
Alice; Just uttering sounds and stut
tering at that.
Ester: So cold she couldn’t get her
store teeth to synchronize.
Tacky: Who was “burned up” be
cause she had to stand all the way in
(not a gentleman in the carload) say
ing . . . “it’s simply a question of mind
over matter.” Which over what?
Polly: Speechless, and when Polly is
speechless . . . she’s speechless.
By about 11 A. M. the heat came up
and after the office had warmed up
somewhat and it had begun to feel
comfortable, and the coats, mittens,
earmuffs and stuff came off in the
manner of Gypsy Rose . . . piece by
piece . . . our Mr. Ivie walked in, fresh
from a meeting at the Cotton Institute
and remarked “it’s the first time I ever
felt so comforable.” Oh yeah bub, you
shouldda been here two hours ago . . .
the knees at work around the office
sounded like castanets.
Would-Be-Brides
In a previous issue we casually men
tioned running a Matrimonial Agency .
. . (P. S. Typist note: Who mentions
anything like that casually?) Since that
issue we’re been swamped with re
quests . . . like so!
Eleanor Greene—He must be tall,
short; not too handsome, not too bad
looking. Not a damn Yankee, over
draft age, and must like a home, and
his own home, not some other girl’s.
Gladys Schmidtt—He must be a former
sailor.
Ann Matvick—Oh Wig, I don’t want to
apppear too choosey, but Wig, woncha
do sumpin?
Alice Coogan—Just a man.
Margie Taylor—What a man?
Velma Minter—You all go away. I’ll do
my own hunting.
Hilda Stiepp—I want the Army, Navy,
Marines, Merchant Marine and did I
miss anything?
Dot Wilson—Blah! Couldn’t be annoy
ed, but on second thought, it has been
cold lately.
Ann Sooey—Oh, Mr. Wigmore, would
you please get me one.
Evelyn Tackier—Matrimonial Agency?
Phooey . . . my heart belongs to Daddy
. . . anybody’s Daddy.
Polly—What’s going on?
Bea Kastner—After what you did to
me. Wig, you must get me one first be
cause you didn’t mention my promo
tion. He must be 5’ 9” so I can lay n;y
head on his shoulder when we ride in
a taxi, or be able to cuddle into his
arms when he stands up.
(Note; Hey, Wig, is she kidding?)
Blanche—Not me, I have one, but
would like one on reserve and he must
not look hke Hoch.