The Cliff-Dwellers | Page 4

the four big boilers under the pavement of the court which lies just behind, and it sends aloft a vast plume of smoke to mingle with those of other like com munities that are settled round about. These same thousands may also gather in instalments at their tribal feast, for the Clifton has its own lunch-counter just off one corner of the grand court, as well as a restaurant several floors higher up. The members of the tribe may also smoke the pipe of peace among themselves whenever so minded, for the Clifton has its own cigar -stand just within the principal entrance. Newspapers and periodicals, too, are sold at the same place. The warriors may also communi cate their messages, hostile or friendly, to chiefs more or less remote; for there is a telegraph office in the corridor and a squad of messengerboys in wait close by.
In a word, the Clifton aims to be complete within itself, and it will be unnecessary for us to go afield either far or frequently during the present simple succession of brief episodes in the lives of the Cliff-dwellers.

I
ON the tenth floor of the Clifton is the office of the Massachusetts Brass Company.
Those whose minds are attuned to an appreciation of upholstery and kindred matters pronounce this little suite the gem of the whole establish ment. Even many who are not adepts in the matter of house-furnishing, and who are much too rushed and preoccupied to become such, have been known to pause in their course through the Clifton's long corridors, on occasions when the ribbed glass door of the Brass Company happened to be standing ajar, and to say to themselves, with certain home offices in mind,
"Now, why can't our people do as much for wt"
Indeed, there is cause enough for envy in that small square of velvety Axminster, in the har monious tinting of the walls, in the padded leather backs of the swivel chairs, in the pol ished brightness of the cherry desk-tops, in the fresh blotting-pads and the immaculate ink stands. To sit in this pleasant little apartment for half an hour is to receive quite a new impres sion of the possible luxury of business, the ultimate elegance of trade. This may be managed as easily as not if you happen to have any dealings with "D. Wai worth Floyd, Agt." according to the legend on the translucent pane of the door who is quite unlikely to hurry you out be fore you have finished. a Don't be in such a drive," he will perhaps say to you; "stay and smoke a cigar."
For business is not too exacting a consideration with the western branch of the Massachu setts Brass Company. It is less a hive of indus try than a social exchange. The hours are easy, and the habitues are as frequently callers as cus tomers. They are often Jacks or Toms, whose fathers are social pillars in Boston and large land-owners in Wyoming and Dakota, and Jack and Tom birds of passage in Scotch cheviots and billycock hats are given to alighting for a brief breathing -spell on this lofty perch, wherethey reproach the slipshod dress and careless, speech of their friend's small office force by the trim neatness of their own clothes and conversation.
It may be guessed that this snug haven of ref uge has been established and maintained less to. extend the Company's trade than to provide a place for the Company's Wai worth. I say Com pany's Walworth, for in this case "company" and "family" are interchangeable terms. The Massachusetts Brass Company is the Floyd family, and the Floyd family is the Massachusetts Brass Company. The Company pays no divi dends, but it is very generous in its salaries. It is liberal with Hosea G. Floyd, who is its. presi dent, and with Winthrop C. Floyd, who is its treasurer, and with H. Lovell Floyd, who is its New York agent, and with Cadwallader P. Floyd, who looks after the Philadelphia inter ests; nor does it quite forget D. Wai worth Floyd, who holds up one end more or less effect ively in the West. But Walworth is the last and the youngest of the Floyds; his marriage was not to the complete satisfaction of his fam ily, and his single independent venture before leaving home, in the direction of coffee and spices, compelled his brothers to put their hands into their pockets rather deeply. So, while the rest of the Floyds think that, all considered, they have rather done the fair thing by Walworth, yet Walworth, on the other hand, regards his assignment to the West as a mild form of punishment and exile.
"It does give me a little elbow-room, though." This is the silent acknowledgment that Waiworth sometimes makes to himself but