The day's work would be pleasantly broken up by
frequent inquiries from the general manager's office. Every now and then
a fellow-worker would take a moment from his duties to ask Wallabout
Smith how his lawn was getting on. Sometimes he would be summoned to
the telephone, only to learn that Central had called the wrong number.
Lunch was a matter of a few minutes. At 5.30 every afternoon Wallabout
Smith exchanged his alpaca jacket for his street coat with a fine sense
of weariness, and the secure conviction that the next morning would find
the same task waiting for him on his table. "I have no hesitation in
stating," Smith would frequently say, "that some of the busiest hours of
my life have been spent at my office desk."
Walking was his favourite form of exercise. When he lived in the city
during the first few years after his marriage, he used to walk the floor
with the baby. Later when the children began to grow up and he moved out
into the country, he walked to and from the station. His gait was a
free, manly stride, bordering close upon a run, in the morning, and a
more deliberate, sliding pace, somewhat suggestive of a shuffle, in the
evening.
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