or "It's a pleasure to have met you. Come in again some time."

Rising as a sign the interview is terminated, looking at the clock, or drawing out upon the desk in plain sight a formidable pile of work, are somewhat stronger hints that it is time to go.

According to a certain charming method which, however, requires a high degree of diplomacy on the part of its user, the host rises, reaches out to shake hands, and then while cordially retaining the caller's handclasp gently leads him to the door with a few final words on the subject of the call and a pleasant farewell. The visitor finds himself outside though scarcely conscious of how he got there, and the door is closed.

Since they recognize that any caller once comfortably seated in a quiet private office is liable to overstay, some executives contrive to give a visitor as he enters the subconscious feeling that he is just about to depart. It may be that no chairs are provided. The executive sits, the visitor stands, unless he is one to whom this would be a distinct discourtesy, in which case both men stand. Or again, the office door is left wide open and the caller is seated where he cannot avoid seeing that others are waiting outside. Should this not have the desired effect, the secretary is signaled to usher in one of those waiting and the newcomer, on being shown a seat, is informed he will receive attention in a minute or two.

The Distress Signal

Another general means for terminating the interview may be called distress signals, to which executives in especially exposed positions sometimes have recourse. The most common of these is the electric buzzer, concealed somewhere on the desk or floor where it may be pressed unobtrusively. As soon as the emergency signal has sounded outside, an assistant or secretary appears who apologizes for the interruption,

but is obliged to bring up such and such a matter for immediate action, and he stands waiting as the caller makes his exit. Sometimes the assistant on receiving the signal calls up on the phone, representing himself as a house man desiring to settle an important matter and forcing from the executive a promise to confer with him inside of five minutes; the visitor, overhearing the conversation, takes hurried leave.

The story is told of a prominent exporter who, wishing to terminate an interview, in the most charmingly informal manner lights a cigar, strolls over to a window, spreads his legs apart, and with hands folded behind his back seemingly prepares to continue the conversation at his ease. But to the secretary sitting just outside the glass door, this naive attitude of his employer constitutes a distress signal. He sweeps in with a huge handful of "important papers which must be attended to at once in order to catch a foreign mail." The caller thereupon is ushered out with expressions of regret.

Who Else Is Waiting?

In deciding whether or not to close the interview, the executive discovers oftentimes that much depends upon what callers, if any, are waiting outside to see him. In some cases the secretary is left in control of this matter, it being his function to signal the employer by buzzer when an important caller has arrived. The chief may or may not communicate with him further before taking leave of his present caller, much depending upon the secretary's proficiency.

For handling cases such as these the telautograph is useful. Should a caller be staying rather long, the executive by taking up his electric pencil inquires as to who is waiting outside. The secretary, by using a similar pencil, replies that Mr. Blank is there; upon the receipt of the information the executive can arrange his time accordingly.

After all is said, however, the reception of callers is one

of the important duties of practically every man who has executive work. His purpose is to accomplish as much as possible during the time which his program permits.

President Roosevelt and His Callers

The classic example of successful management of callers is the account by George Fitch, in The American Magazine, of President Roosevelt in the White House. The writer of the account had called upon the President accompanied by his Congressman.

As we finished our inspection, which included a view of the President's desk in his private office, the President came out and began working his way rapidly through the callers, taking one group at a time, and using both hands and voice incessantly. . . . As he worked each group he sorted out the visitors and classified them. Some he merely greeted cordially. Others he asked to stand aside a minute for further remarks. Still others were asked to step into his office and wait for him. Then, after having rough-finished half a dozen groups, the president would go back and work over the debris.

It was then that we saw him in real action. He told a story and arrived at the point with a deep, chuckly laugh which pervaded his entire system and was reflected from every tooth-a regular mouthful of glee. He frowned tremendously and a pent-up epigram exploded with a loud bang; he suddenly reached forward and bit the atmosphere in two while emphasizing a word. He reached a woman caller and his entire personality dissolved and changed like a river mist. Bowing low as he shook hands, he greeted her with an oldfashioned courtesy and a soft-voiced deference to womankind that was most attractive. Passing on, he heard a proposition and dismissed it with two "noes" that would have cut a ship's cable in two-all in good humor and friendliness. Then, remembering a group which he had sent into his office to be digested, he hurried in to them and considered their case. . .

The Congressman in seeking a better opportunity for his visitor to talk with the President blurted out, "Mr. President, I am on the sub-committee on fortifications." Mr.

Roosevelt immediately drew the little group into a corner,
where he at once plunged into affairs of state. He took the
lid right off of the international pot and let us look in. . . .
As I remember it now, we had really looked on open-mouthed
for fifteen minutes-a fear comes over me that it was really
only two-and that at the end of that time the President,
having said what was uppermost in his mind, had terminated
the interview. That is the funny thing about it. We came
away feeling as if we had terminated the interview. They
say everybody does-that no one stays a minute longer than
the President wants him to and yet no one knows how the
President does it. At a certain moment the visitor clutches
his hat convulsively and the President, overcoming his dis-
appointment, manfully bids him goodbye.

But what makes the visitor clutch his hat? The explanation is simple. Roosevelt himself dominated the interview.

Dominating the Interview

The spineless caller who hangs on rather than make the effort required to break away, must have his mind made up for him. The persistent stayer who remains to urge again and again a project against which his host has already decided, must have his views definitely reshaped. Positiveness of manner accomplishes this. If the executive impresses his callers as a man of infinite leisure, most of them will stay too long. If he does not get quickly to the point, many of them, if they do business, will have to stay too long. The best method of saving time in an interview is for the executive himself to serve as an example of what both men should do, viz., concentrate, decide, dispatch.

EXERCISES

Wasting Time

Several salesmen met in Boston some time since for a little gettogether. One of them, the manager of a New England territory,

took the floor. His remarks are thus reported by an unofficial secretary:

"He first pointed out that life consists of fads. He had one at the moment and it consisted of a constant analysis of the way he occupies his time.

"He approached his topic by showing us how he had analyzed his expenditures over a period of two years; and the revelations that this analysis had exposed. For about two months he had carefully analyzed his time in much the same way and the revelations were indeed startling.

"Time, he pointed out, is our most valuable asset. Not alone in dollars and cents but in that far more valuable commodity—mental growth.

"He had divided his time into two parts-productive and unproductive. And these again he subdivided into logical divisions. "He quoted from memory and here is the result

I. Productive

(a) Constructive business-getting time

(b) Avocation-(not mere diversion)

(c) Reading

(1) Solid

(2) Light

(d) Exercise

etc., etc.

2. Unproductive

(a) Meals

(b) Bed

(c) Chores

(d) Diversion

(e) Idleness

etc., etc.

"As a result he had discovered several important facts:

"1. That he had been deceiving himself about the amount of work, business-getting work, that he had been doing.

"2. That four hours each day were absolutely unaccounted forwasted in pure idleness.

"3. That the daily round showed lack of steadiness.

“As a matter of fact the real worth and object of such an analysis is to cultivate steadiness; the steadiness of the six-cylinder which keeps on chug-chugging all the time and not in spurts.

"Bert had discovered that his days were irregular in the extreme. One day so much work done; next day not nearly so much; one day so much time given to meals; next day far too much.