Dreyer glanced at him askance.
“Hello, hello,” he said, “so here we are together again.” He buttoned all the buttons of his overcoat and continued: “This must have cost a tidy sum—I haven’t looked at the bill yet. But that’s not the point. I’d be willing to pay even more for the sheer fun of it. A most exhilarating experience, to be sure. Unfortunately, neither my wife nor the police saw the joke.”
He tried to think of something else to add, failed, unbuttoned his coat again, and got into the car.
“I gave his physiognomy a thorough examination,” he reflected to the accompaniment of the motor’s gentle purr. “Still it is impossible to draw any conclusion yet. Of course, his eyes are sort of twinkly, of course, they have those little bags under them. But that may be normal with him. Next time I’ll have to take a good sniff.”
That morning, as agreed, he visited the emporium and introduced Franz to Mr. Piffke. Piffke was burly, dignified, and smartly dressed. He had blond eyelashes, baby-colored skin, a profile that had prudently stopped halfway between man and teapot, and a second-rate diamond on his plump auricular. He felt for Franz the respect due to the boss’s nephew, while Franz gazed with envy and awe at the architectonic perfection of Piffke’s trouser creases and the transparent handkerchief peeping out of his breast pocket.
Dreyer did not even mention the lesson of the night before. With his complete approval Piffke assigned Franz not to the tie counter, but to the sporting-goods department. Piffke went to work on Franz with zeal, and his training methods turned out to be very different from Dreyer’s, containing as they did a great deal more arithmetic than Franz had expected.
Neither had he expected his feet to ache so much, from constant standing, or his face, from the mechanical expressionof affability. As usual in autumn, that part of the emporium was much quieter than the others. Various bodybuilding appliances, ping-pong paddles, striped woollen scarves, soccer boots with black cleats and white laces moved fairly well. The existence of public pools accounted for a continued small demand for bathing suits; but their real season had passed, while the time for skates and skis had not yet come. Thus no rush of customers hampered Franz’s training and he had complete leisure to learn his job. His main colleagues were two girls, one red-haired and sharp-nosed, the other a stout energetic blonde inexorably accompanied by a sour smell; and an athletically built young man wearing the same kind of tortoise shell glasses as Franz. He casually informed Franz about the prizes he had won in swimming competitions, and Franz envied him, being himself an excellent swimmer. It was with Schwimmer’s help that Franz selected the cloth for two suits and a supply of ties, shirts, and socks. It was he, too, who helped Franz to unravel some minor mysteries of salesmanship far more astutely than Piffke, whose true function was to promenade about the place and grandly arrange meetings between customer and salesman.
During the first few days Franz, dazed and self-conscious, and trying not to shiver (his department was over-ventilated and full of its own athletic drafts), simply stood in a corner trying not to attract attention, avidly following the actions of his colleagues, memorizing their professional movements and intonations, and then abruptly, with unbearable clarity, imagining Martha—the way she had of putting her hand to the back of her chignon, or glancing at her nails and emerald ring. Very soon, however, under the approving solicitous gaze of Mr. Schwimmer, Franz started selling on his own.
He remembered forever his first customer, a stout old manwho asked for a ball. A ball. At once this ball went off bouncing in his imagination, multiplying and scattering, and Franz’s head became the playground for all the balls in the store, small, medium, and large—yellow leather ones with
“Hello, hello,” he said, “so here we are together again.” He buttoned all the buttons of his overcoat and continued: “This must have cost a tidy sum—I haven’t looked at the bill yet. But that’s not the point. I’d be willing to pay even more for the sheer fun of it. A most exhilarating experience, to be sure. Unfortunately, neither my wife nor the police saw the joke.”
He tried to think of something else to add, failed, unbuttoned his coat again, and got into the car.
“I gave his physiognomy a thorough examination,” he reflected to the accompaniment of the motor’s gentle purr. “Still it is impossible to draw any conclusion yet. Of course, his eyes are sort of twinkly, of course, they have those little bags under them. But that may be normal with him. Next time I’ll have to take a good sniff.”
That morning, as agreed, he visited the emporium and introduced Franz to Mr. Piffke. Piffke was burly, dignified, and smartly dressed. He had blond eyelashes, baby-colored skin, a profile that had prudently stopped halfway between man and teapot, and a second-rate diamond on his plump auricular. He felt for Franz the respect due to the boss’s nephew, while Franz gazed with envy and awe at the architectonic perfection of Piffke’s trouser creases and the transparent handkerchief peeping out of his breast pocket.
Dreyer did not even mention the lesson of the night before. With his complete approval Piffke assigned Franz not to the tie counter, but to the sporting-goods department. Piffke went to work on Franz with zeal, and his training methods turned out to be very different from Dreyer’s, containing as they did a great deal more arithmetic than Franz had expected.
Neither had he expected his feet to ache so much, from constant standing, or his face, from the mechanical expressionof affability. As usual in autumn, that part of the emporium was much quieter than the others. Various bodybuilding appliances, ping-pong paddles, striped woollen scarves, soccer boots with black cleats and white laces moved fairly well. The existence of public pools accounted for a continued small demand for bathing suits; but their real season had passed, while the time for skates and skis had not yet come. Thus no rush of customers hampered Franz’s training and he had complete leisure to learn his job. His main colleagues were two girls, one red-haired and sharp-nosed, the other a stout energetic blonde inexorably accompanied by a sour smell; and an athletically built young man wearing the same kind of tortoise shell glasses as Franz. He casually informed Franz about the prizes he had won in swimming competitions, and Franz envied him, being himself an excellent swimmer. It was with Schwimmer’s help that Franz selected the cloth for two suits and a supply of ties, shirts, and socks. It was he, too, who helped Franz to unravel some minor mysteries of salesmanship far more astutely than Piffke, whose true function was to promenade about the place and grandly arrange meetings between customer and salesman.
During the first few days Franz, dazed and self-conscious, and trying not to shiver (his department was over-ventilated and full of its own athletic drafts), simply stood in a corner trying not to attract attention, avidly following the actions of his colleagues, memorizing their professional movements and intonations, and then abruptly, with unbearable clarity, imagining Martha—the way she had of putting her hand to the back of her chignon, or glancing at her nails and emerald ring. Very soon, however, under the approving solicitous gaze of Mr. Schwimmer, Franz started selling on his own.
He remembered forever his first customer, a stout old manwho asked for a ball. A ball. At once this ball went off bouncing in his imagination, multiplying and scattering, and Franz’s head became the playground for all the balls in the store, small, medium, and large—yellow leather ones with
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