Personality Plus: Some Experiences of Emma McChesney and Her Son, Jock

se telephone conversation begins: "Well, what do you know to-day?" It may be your lawyer to say you've inherited a million. Hence the arr

rtner, T.A. Buck, she was fathoms deep in discussion of the T.A. Buck Featherloom Petticoat Company's new sp

hes. Back in a minute," said Emma McChesney and hurried

to talk to you, you young chump! Go on." A moment of silence, while Mrs. McChesney's face smiled and glowed like a girl's as she listened to the voice of her son. Then suddenly glow and s

me a proverb in the business world. Yet her lips were trembling now. Her eyes were very round and bright. Her face had flushed, then g

ped to her lap, then came up to her throat a moment, dropped again. Sh

s the hall T.A. Buck

s Mrs. McChesney looked up at him. A quic

k-Jo

ared at him, her face pitiful, his hand patted her should

shook off his hand. "Your stenographer c

grapher! What's thi

passed her handkerchief across her lips. "I didn't say

try to be sane? I find you sitting at your desk, staring into space, your face white as a ghost's, you

Company has appointed Jock manager of their new Western branch. They're opening offices

roar broke from him. "Not exactly bad!" he boomed between l

fied silence. Then-"Well, really, T.A., don't

to tell me that because your young cub of a son, by a heaven-sent stroke of good fortune, has landed a job that men twice his age would g

oke's on me. That's why I can't see

elfish word I've ev

you think I could have stood those years on the road if I hadn't kept up courage with the thought that it was all for him? Don't I know how narrowly Jock escaped being

've steered him right. I've watched you make him

nreasonable. There's only one sort of human being who could understand what I mean. That's a woman with a son.

im to stay. The boy wouldn't go if h

sney sharply. "I'd like to

t in-" began Bu

t's the same kink that makes women read the marriage and death notices first in a newspaper. It's the same queer strain that causes a mother to lavish the most love on the weakest, wilfullest child. Perhaps I wouldn't have loved Jock

asily. "I've never heard

will again." She swu

oward the door, still

ourse, the boy will be a long way off. But then, you've b

now. Something tells me I'll be a grandmother in another two years. Girls aren

s a headstrong young cub. He strikes me as the kind who'd raise the d

s to traveling men, and as friends we've wrangled on every subject from weather to war. I've allowed you to criticise my soul the

zzed a punctuati

?" inquired

overing the mouthpiece-"and if he thinks that he can work off a lot of last year'

ed to the background, while Emma McChesney, secretary of t

home at five-thirty, being that kind of a person. Jock came in at six,

chiffonier in his bedroom, surrounded by p

he doorway. "What do you think

these medium-weights of yours didn't wear

weights!

the rest of your natural life. Handker

hem into an open drawer. Then he shut the drawer with a bang, reached over, gra

derwear ended. Would it bore you too much to to

up at her son, taller, straighter, handsomer. The

at I couldn't resist teasing you. Besides, I

de dear, y

how it happened. From the beginning." She perched at the side of the bed. Jock, hands

'Manager wanted, young man, preferably married, able to furnish A-1 reference.' They're as thick as advertising men in Detroit on Monday morning. But we knew that this Western branch was going to be given an equal chance with the New York office. Those big Western advertisers like to give their money to West

e said. 'That a New York

ctly,'

y any Chi

That time my suit

p a couple of times. Then-McChesney, what have you lear

that he didn't mean any cut-and-dried knowledge.

ilate he's listening to you, and thinking about what you're saying. When they contract it means that he's only fak

erg, and sort of g

ones; that it never pays to knock your competitor; that it's w

aid Berg. 'An

could play the game

l and the office boy bounces in to say to the boss: "Mrs. Jones is waiting. She says you were going to

learned that

ous kind, like the Featherloom Petticoat Company's campaign. That was an ideal campaign because it didn't urge and insist that the public buy Featherlooms. It just

other's idea, McChesney.' You know,

d Emma McChesney

lare from the window irritated the man I was talking to. I told Berg all the tricks I'd learned, and some I hadn't thought of till that minute. Berg put in a word now and t

to acquire that golden quality known as balance. I could name a hundred men that are better all-around advertising men than you will ever be. Those men have advertising ability that glows steadily and evenly, like a well-banked fire. But you've got the kind of ability that flares up, dies down, flares up. But every flare is a real blaze that lights things red while it lasts, and sends a new glow through the v

go!' I

akeview Building on Michigan Avenue. Would yo

et. Hers were pale. He was breathing quickly. She was very quiet.

finger-marks so." Then, quite suddenly, she stood up, sh

ke the rest of the rubes, and I suppose the noise and lights will confuse me so that I'll be glad to get back to the sylvan qu

y, in muffled tones that

a suburb of New York, a

urb talk, and sort of forget New York. Chicago's quite a village, for an inland settlement, even if it has only two or

k talked and his mother listened, interrupting with only an occasional

down strangely on the two seated there in the living-room with its soft-shaded lamps. Jock pic

her, "there was a time when you were afrai

dear, just a little

would have realized that. I don't mean, dear, that you haven't always been wonderful, because you have. But it takes a man to unders

Emma McChesney

got the stuff in him it'll show up, sooner or later. If I hadn't had it in me I wou

, d

I've talked you to death, haven't I? Lordy, it's midnight! And I want to get down ear

, standing a-tiptoe, kissed his eyelids with infinite gentleness as you kiss a baby's ey

It was a cheerful, disconnected whistling, sometimes high and clear, sometimes under the breath, sometimes interspersed with song, and sometimes ceasing altogether at critical moments, say, during shaving, or while bring

oe on the floor. An interval of quiet. Then another thump. Without having been conscious of it, Emma McChesney had grown to love the noises that accompanied Jock's retiring and rising. His dressing was a

d like a school of wha

fast," Jock would call back. "Tell Annie to make enough toa

e lost in a fina

ad subsided now. She listened more inten

suit come back f

ou know. He said he'd bring i

bang. Then: '"

ounds, then a long, comfortabl

cChesney lay there sleepless. She lay flat, hands clasped across her breast, her braids spread out on the pillow. In the darkness of the room the years rolled before her in panorama: her girlhood, her marriage, her unhappiness, Jock, the divorce, the struggle for work, those ten years on the road. Those ten years on the road! How she had hated them-and loved them. The stuffy trains, the jarring sleepers, the bare little hotel bedrooms, the bad food, the irregular hours, the loneliness, the hard work, the disappointments, the temptatio

ose unreasoning night-fears. The fear of living. The fear of life.

ce. Just to be near him. To touch him. To take him in her arms, with his head in the hollow of her breast, as she used to when he w

stole across the hall, stopped, listened, gained the door. It was open an inch or more. Just to be near him, to know that he lay there, sleeping! She pushed the door very, very gently. Then she stood in the doo

nd herself blinking at a determined young man who was steadily pointing a short, chubby, bu

manded Jock rather crossly

against the foot of

id you

aking to your door, and then opening it, and listening again, and sneaking in? What would you thin

in her arms. Jock stared a moment in offended disapproval. Then the humor of it caught him, and he buried

begun to laugh Mrs. McC

ell me, why weren

suddenly solemn. "I-sort of-began

e you thi

nd traced a pattern with one forefin

ing of

esney, like a bashfu

e. That's rot. It isn't so. I was striped with yellow like a stick of lemon candy. If I've got this far, it's all because of you. I've

ewly-made angel might receive her crown and harp. It was the look with which a war-hero sees t

esney. "If you hadn't had it in

rst place," contested Jock

e looked at him, her eyes glowing bright

don't intend to stand here and dispute about your eth

rinned Jock resignedly, an

aling a porter for his bags, talking, laughing, trying to hide the pangs of departure under a cloak of gayety and badinage that deceived no one. Least of all did it deceive the two women who stood there. The eyes of the older woman never left his face. The ey

n Chicago for the first few weeks, three or four of the younger

o his train, all la

"I'll get scared and chuck the whole business. Funny,

The sight did not pain her as she thought it would. There was success in every line of him as he stood there, hat in hand. There was assurance in every breath of him. His clothes, his skin, his cl

ed exultingly. H

She looked at it, and

fternoon and call it a

he train was gone. "T.A.

Come on, let's p

ut, and Miss Loeb wants to show me th

began dictating letters with an energy that bordered on fury. At five o'clock she was still wor

manded wrathfully, "a

ace was flushed, her eyes bright, but there w

l rattle around in that empty fla

r down-town and g

have to go h

et used to it. Think of all the years you got

ut. When I think of what that flat will be without him-Why, just to wake up and know t

ealize that you are virtually hound

sped Emma

anted somebody to wor

al smile lay lig

, I'm over fo

m going to grow sentimental

ilence. Buck stirred, leaned forward. She looked up

p, T.A.," said

E