1901
This is the story of a mean man. He may not be the meanest on record, but he carries a very fair brand of closefistedness. He had a contract to supply a certain amount of crushed stone. The machine he used could turn out all the work he could get by running eight hours a day.
The mean man had an engineer who was a genius. The genius went to his employer one day and said he thought he could make some improvements in that machine so it would do more work in less time. The genius was paid by the month.
He worked on the machine for several days, taking it apart and putting it together again. When reconstructed, it proved to have greater efficiency than before, so much so that it did the same amount of work in one minute and a half that it used to take four and a half to do.
The mean man, however, could get no more contracts than before. He could fill all his orders by running about three hours a day. The mean man then went to the genius and said: "See here, Henry, I've been paying you by the month, but there isn't as much work as there used to be — not enough to keep you busy. I shall have to pay you by the hour after this." Henry demurred. He had been too faithful, but he didn't think that ought to reduce his earnings over one-half. His employer was firm, however, and Henry resigned. — New York Mail and Express.
Monday, April 7, 2008
The Story of a Mean Man
Thursday, April 19, 2007
The Cost of a Cocktail
1916
The Drink a Young Business Man Had to Have Before Lunch
In New York city there is a man who once paid $6,000 for a cocktail. He did not know it then, and he never will know it unless he happens to read this story.
A certain prosperous manufacturing company needed a new departmental manager. The salary was $6,000 a year. The officers of the company considered a great many candidates and at last decided to offer the position to a clever young man of unusual business ability. He seemed to be exactly the man for that particular place. The president and general manager invited the young man to lunch with them at a downtown club, ostensibly to talk over a less important business matter. They wanted to "look him over" just once more.
The man met them at the appointed hour, and the president, anxious to make the occasion a pleasant one, ordered an elaborate luncheon. The waiter was a long time in bringing the first course, and the guest began to appear ill at ease. He seemed absentminded and uninterested in the conversation. He twisted about in his chair and tapped his finders nervously upon the table. Finally he turned toward the president and said almost desperately "Would you mind very much if I ordered a cocktail?" Then he flushed a little and offered a laughing apology for making the request.
The other men exchanged surprised and significant glances, but they called the waiter and ordered the cocktail. When it came the guest drank it eagerly. In a few moments he had become another man — the man of keen vision and quick mind, who could be so useful in their great business. There was no more preoccupation in his manner, no shifting about in His chair. He was alert, eager, clear headed.
But as the luncheon went on neither the president nor the manager mentioned the real object of the interview. Each was thinking the matter over seriously, and neither could be sure of the other's secretly formed opinion. The situation became awkward. Finally the president excused himself on the pretense of going into the library to speak to a friend who had just entered. But after speaking to his friend he went straight to the desk and wrote a message on a telegraph blank. He gave the message to a uniformed attendant and went back to the dining room.
In a few minutes a page brought a telegram to the manager, who read it hurriedly, while the president finished telling their guest about a shooting trip in Maine. This is what the telegram said:
The job is too big for a boozer. We can't run our business by cocktail power. — Youth's Companion
—Stevens Point Daily Journal, Stevens Point, Wisconsin, July 29, 1916, page 6.