He bought a pack of cigarettes at the checking stand, Fran said good morning cheerfully. He thought she noticed, she handed the change and the cigarettes and he stood there a moment waiting...Fran noticed him and smiled again obviously embarrassed at the curious way he stared. Mr. Home, the manager, arrived and at intervals the three other salesmen arrived. Mrs. Happybottom, in charge of the hosery department rushed in just before ten, half hour late as usual. She said good morning then went on about her business. Mr. Ethon only sold three pairs of shoes that morning. The last pair to a lady whose ankles, he noticed, were heavy. While he picked out the brown leather heels she wanted to try, an idea blossomed spontaneously, causing in him a similar reaction he had experienced that morning when the moth had piloted itself into his milk. Mr. Ethon smiled at the thought, found her size and after much studying and commenting on this style and that style and this fit and that, she bought the pair with the bow. Mr. Ethon left the shoe store for lunch. He stepped out of the door and the thought came back, it appealed to him. All during his noon meal he sat staring at a Coca Cola sign and eating automatically even forgetting his mustach. He thought over the various aspects of his compelling idea as he tried to decide whether he should or not. He wondered about the reaction, it any. A slight surge of fear as it occured to him that there might not be a reaction. No reaction, conspicuously no reaction as it had been all day. This tilted the scale in favor. "I'll get a reaction yet!" he said to himself. He bought a ten cent memo-pad and sat back down. 4 He wrote something on the first sheet then tore it off and tucked it in his pocket. He wrote a few words on many other sheets and each time with a resolute movement placed them in his jacket pocket. He returned to the store late. Business had picked up. With crisp precision the salesmen removed shoes from the wall, slipped shoes on their customers and always at the end of a sale gave a stiff smile and in a precise tone of voice said, "Thank you, please come again." Mr. Home walked about with his hands folded at his back. He looked efficient, also, as he surveyed the salesmen who, like the second hands of a watch, walked from the shoe stock to the customer, to the shoe stock to the customer to the desk to write the sale, tick.... Sometimes a pencil would drop on the glass counter behind which Mrs. Happybottom invaribly said, "Need any hose today?" Mr. Ethon became one of the mechanical men waiting on customers. He noticed ankles more than he ever had before. Even aroused in himself a sudden temporary interest in ankles. At one point, he said to a tall lady in her thirtys, "At the risk of being uncouth, I hope not, you have the most charming ankles. I've seen in all of the time I've sold shoes." When she discovered he had been selling shoes for eight years, she bought the shoes and a hand bag and even some polish. When Mr. Home asked, "How is it going, Ethon?" Ethon smiled and said "It's a good day, very good. May even get better, I hope." Mr. Home gave an approving nod and Ethon walked to the back room and rubbed the skin below his nose lightly with his forefinger while scanning the wall of shoes for the right size. 5