The Signals of Griggs

"The Signals of Griggs" by Charles Battell Loomis is a novel that intertwines themes of communication and connection in an imaginative setting. The story follows the protagonist, who navigates the complexities of human relationships and societal expectations while uncovering the deeper meanings behind seemingly trivial signals in daily life. Through a blend of humor and introspection, Loomis crafts a narrative that explores the nuances of how people convey thoughts and emotions, ultimately revealing the profound impact of understanding and miscommunication in human interactions.

• Short story

								
You may remember Griggs as the man who had a mind. At the time that
I wrote about that useful member of his make-up he was living out in
New Jersey; but he was finally brought to see the error of his ways,
and took the top flat in a nine-story house without an elevator, ’way
up-town.

The other evening I went to call on the Griggses. He had not yet
come home, but his wife let me in and helped me to a sofa to recover
from the effects of my climb. I have been up the Matterhorn, Mont
Blanc, and Popocatepetl, but I never felt so exhausted as I did after
walking up those nine frightful flights. And Mrs. Griggs told me that
she thought nothing of running up- and down-stairs a dozen times a
day, which was a sad commentary on her truthfulness.

After I was there a few minutes, trying to get used to the notes
of two lusty and country-bred children (offspring of Mr. and Mrs.
Griggs), there came a feeble and dejected ring at the front-door
bell. Mrs. Griggs hastened to the kitchen,--they do not keep a
servant (that was their trouble in New Jersey, but now they don’t
want to),--and after pressing the electric button that opened the
front door, she said: “That’s poor Mr. Griggs. He must be feeling bad
to-night, and I must put the children to bed before he gets up, as he
is too nervous to stand their noise.”

I was somewhat astonished, but she ripped the clothes off of her buds
of promise and popped them into bed with a skill and rapidity that
would have secured her a position on the vaudeville stage. After they
were covered up she returned to me. Of course Mr. Griggs had not yet
arrived, and I asked her how she knew he was tired.

“Why, we have a code of signals. Mr. Griggs invented them. When he
has done well down-town, he taps out a merry peal on the bell, and
then I tell the children to greet him at the hall door and prepare
for a romp. When the bell rings sharply I know that he is in no humor
for fun, but will tolerate the children if they are quiet. But when
he rings slowly and faintly, as he did to-night, I always put the
dears to bed, as I know he has had bad luck and is worn out.”

As she spoke, Griggs opened the hall door and staggered in, weak
from his superhuman climb and worn out from his day’s work. I said:
“Good-by, old man; I’ll call some day when you’re going to give the
bell the glad hand. You seem cozily situated.” And then I came down
in the dumb-waiter, although I suppose it was risky.

What a great thing is an electric bell! But how much greater is an
inventive mind like that of Griggs.
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