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diff --git a/34060-8.txt b/34060-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 4312bda..0000000 --- a/34060-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,6803 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Prisoners of Poverty, by Helen Campbell - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: Prisoners of Poverty - Women Wage-Workers, Their Trades and Their Lives - -Author: Helen Campbell - -Release Date: October 12, 2010 [EBook #34060] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PRISONERS OF POVERTY *** - - - - -Produced by Bryan Ness and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was -produced from scanned images of public domain material -from the Google Print project.) - - - - - - - - - - PRISONERS OF POVERTY - - WOMEN WAGE-WORKERS, - THEIR TRADES AND THEIR LIVES. - - - By HELEN CAMPBELL - - AUTHOR OF "MRS. HERNDON'S INCOME," - "MISS MELINDA'S OPPORTUNITY," ETC. - - - BOSTON - LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY - 1900 - - - - _Copyright, 1887_, - BY HELEN CAMPBELL - - - University Press: - JOHN WILSON AND SON, CAMBRIDGE - - - - -PRISONERS OF POVERTY. - - - "_Make no more giants, God, - But elevate the race at once. We ask - To put forth just our strength, our human strength. - All starting fairly, all equipped alike, - Gifted alike, all eagle-eyed, true-hearted,-- - See if we cannot beat Thy angels yet._" - - "_Light, light, and light! to break and melt in sunder - All clouds and chains that in one bondage bind - Eyes, hands, and spirits, forged by fear and wonder - And sleek fierce fraud with hidden knife behind; - There goes no fire from heaven before their thunder, - Nor are the links not malleable that wind - Round the snared limbs and souls that ache thereunder; - The hands are mighty were the head not blind. - Priest is the staff of king, - And chains and clouds one thing, - And fettered flesh with devastated mind. - Open thy soul to see, - Slave, and thy feet are free. - Thy bonds and thy beliefs are one in kind, - And of thy fears thine irons wrought, - Hang weights upon thee fashioned out of thine own thought._" - - - - -PREFACE. - - -The chapters making up the present volume were prepared originally as a -series of papers for the Sunday edition of "The New York Tribune," and -were based upon minutest personal research into the conditions -described. Sketchy as the record may seem at points, it is a photograph -from life; and the various characters, whether employers or employed, -were all registered in case corroboration were needed. While research -was limited to New York, the facts given are much the same for any large -city, and thus have a value beyond their immediate application. No -attempt at an understanding of the labor question as it faces us to-day -can be successful till knowledge of its underlying conditions is -assured. - -It is such knowledge that the writer has aimed to present; and it takes -more permanent form, not only for the many readers whose steady interest -has been an added demand for faithful work, but, it is hoped, for a -circle yet unreached, who, whether agreeing or disagreeing with the -conclusions, still know that to learn the struggle and sorrow of the -workers is the first step toward any genuine help. - -ORANGE, NEW JERSEY, _March_, 1887. - - - - -CONTENTS. - - - PAGE - - CHAPTER FIRST. WORKER AND TRADE 7 - - CHAPTER SECOND. THE CASE OF ROSE HAGGERTY 18 - - CHAPTER THIRD. SOME METHODS OF A PROSPEROUS FIRM 30 - - CHAPTER FOURTH. THE BARGAIN COUNTER 43 - - CHAPTER FIFTH. A FASHIONABLE DRESSMAKER 55 - - CHAPTER SIXTH. MORE METHODS OF PROSPEROUS FIRMS 66 - - CHAPTER SEVENTH. NEGATIVE OR POSITIVE GOSPEL 76 - - CHAPTER EIGHTH. THE TRUE STORY OF LOTTE BAUER 88 - - CHAPTER NINTH. THE EVOLUTION OF A JACKET 100 - - CHAPTER TENTH. BETWEEN THE RIVERS 113 - - CHAPTER ELEVENTH. UNDER THE BRIDGE AND BEYOND 126 - - CHAPTER TWELFTH. ONE OF THE FUR-SEWERS 139 - - CHAPTER THIRTEENTH. SOME DIFFICULTIES OF AN EMPLOYER - WHO EXPERIMENTED 150 - - CHAPTER FOURTEENTH. THE WIDOW MALONEY'S BOARDERS 160 - - CHAPTER FIFTEENTH. AMONG THE SHOP-GIRLS 173 - - CHAPTER SIXTEENTH. TWO HOSPITAL BEDS 186 - - CHAPTER SEVENTEENTH. CHILD-WORKERS IN NEW YORK 199 - - CHAPTER EIGHTEENTH. STEADY TRADES AND THEIR OUTLOOK 210 - - CHAPTER NINETEENTH. DOMESTIC SERVICE AND ITS PROBLEMS 221 - - CHAPTER TWENTIETH. MORE PROBLEMS OF DOMESTIC SERVICE 233 - - CHAPTER TWENTY-FIRST. END AND BEGINNING 244 - - - - -PRISONERS OF POVERTY. - - - - -CHAPTER FIRST. - -WORKER AND TRADE. - - -In that antiquity which we who only are the real ancients look back upon -as the elder world, counting those days as old which were but the -beginning of the time we reckon, there were certain methods with workers -that centuries ago ceased to have visible form. The Roman matron, whose -susceptibilities from long wear and tear in the observation of fighting -gladiators and the other mild amusements of the period, were a trifle -blunted, felt no compunction in ordering a disobedient or otherwise -objectionable slave into chains, and thereafter claiming the same -portion of work as had been given untrammelled. The routine of the day -demanded certain offices; but how these offices should be most easily -fulfilled was no concern of master or mistress, who required simply -fulfilment, and wasted no time on consideration of methods. In the homes -of Pompeii, once more open to the sun, are the underground rooms where -wretched men and women bowed under the weight of fetters, whose -corrosion was not only in weary flesh, but in the no less weary soul; -and Rome itself can still show the same remnants of long-forgotten wrong -and oppression. - -That day is over, and well over, we say. Only for a few barbarians still -unreached by the march of civilization is any hint of such conditions -possible, and even for them the days of darkness are numbered. And so -the century moves on; and the few who question if indeed the bonds are -quite broken, if civilization has civilized, and if men and women may -claim in full their birthright of "life, liberty, and the pursuit of -happiness," are set down as hopeless carpers,--unpleasant, pragmatic, -generally disagreeable objectors to things as they are. Or if it is -admitted that there are defects here and there, and that much remains to -be remedied, we are pointed with pride to the magnificent institutions -of modern charity, where every possible want of all sorts and conditions -of men is met and fulfilled. - -"What more would you have?" cries the believer in things as they are. -"What is higher or finer than the beautiful spirit that has taken -permanent form in brick and mortar? Never since time began has charity -been on so magnificent a scale; never has it been so intelligent, so -far-seeing. No saints of the past were ever more vowed to good works -than these uncanonized saints of to-day who give their lives to the -poor and count them well lost. Shame on man or woman who questions the -beautiful work or dares hint that under this fair surface rottenness and -all foulness still seethe and simmer!" - -It is not easy in the face of such feeling to affirm that, perfect as -the modern system may be, beautiful as is much of the work accomplished, -it still is wanting in one element, the lack of which has power to -vitiate the whole. No good-will, no charity, however splendid, fills or -can fill the place owned by that need which is forever first and most -vital between man and man,--justice. No love, no labor, no -self-sacrifice even, can balance that scale in which justice has no -place. No knowledge nor wisdom nor any understanding that can come to -man counts as force in the universe of God till that one word heads the -list of all that must be known and loved and lived before ever the -kingdom of heaven can begin upon earth. - -It is because this is felt and believed by a few as a compelling power, -by many as a dimly comprehended need, so far in the shadow that its form -is still unknown, that I begin to-day the search for the real presence. -What I write will be no fanciful picture of the hedged-in lives the -conditions of which I began, many years ago, to study. If names are -withheld, and localities not always indicated, it is not because they -are not recorded in full, ready for reference or any required -corroboration. Where the facts make against the worker, they are given -with as minute detail as where they make against the employer. The one -aim in the investigation has been and is to tell the truth simply, -directly, and in full, leaving it for the reader to determine what share -is his or hers in the evil or in the good that the methods of to-day may -hold. That our system of charities and corrections is unsurpassable does -not touch the case of the worker who wants no charity and needs no -correction. It is something beyond either that must be understood. Till -the methods of the day are analyzed, till one has defined justice, asked -what claim it makes upon the personal life of man and woman, and -mastered every detail that render definition more possible, the -questions that perplex even the most conservative can have no solution -for this generation or for any generation to come. To help toward such -solution is the one purpose of all that will follow. - -In the admirable report of the Bureau of Statistics of Labor for 1885, -made under the direction of Mr. Charles Peck, whose name is already the -synonyme for careful and intelligent work, the number of working-women -in New York is given as very nearly two hundred thousand. Investigations -of the same nature have been made at other points, notably Boston, in -the work of Mr. Carroll D. Wright, one of the most widely known of our -statisticians. But neither Boston nor any other city of the United -States offers the same facilities or gives as varied a range of -employment as is to be found in New York, where grinding poverty and -fabulous wealth walk side by side, and where the "life limit" in wages -was established long before modern political economy had made the phrase -current. This number does not include domestic servants, but is limited -to actual handicrafts. Ninety-two trades are given as standing open to -women to-day, and several have been added since the report was made. A -lifetime would hardly be sufficient for a detailed examination of every -industry in the great city, but it is quite possible to form a just -judgment of the quality and character of all those which give employment -to women. The city which affords the largest percentage of habitual -drunkards, as well as the largest number of liquor saloons to the mile, -is naturally that in which most women are forced to seek such means of -subsistence may be had. - -The better-paying trades are filled with women who have had some form of -training in school or home, or have passed from one occupation to -another, till that for which they had most aptitude has been determined. -That, however, to which all the more helpless turn at once, as the one -thing about the doing of which there can be no doubt or difficulty, is -the one most overcrowded, most underpaid, and with its scale of payments -lessening year by year. The girl too ignorant to reckon figures, too -dull-witted to learn by observation, takes refuge in sewing in some of -its many forms as the one thing possible to all grades of intelligence; -and the woman with drunken or otherwise vicious husband, more helpless -often than the widow who turns in the same direction, seeks the same -sources of employment. If respectably dressed and able to furnish some -reference, employment is often found by her in factory or some large -establishments where regular workers have place. But if, as is often the -case, the need for work arises from the death or the evil habits of the -natural head of the family, fortunes have sunk to so low an ebb that -often the only clothing left is on the back of the worker, in the last -stages of demoralization; and the sole method of securing work is -through the middle-men or "sweaters," who ask no questions and require -no reference, but make as large a profit for themselves as can be wrung -from the helplessness and the bitter need of those with whom they -reckon. - -The difficulties to be faced by the woman whose only way of self-support -is limited to the needle, whether in machine or hand work, fourfold. (1) -Her own incompetency must very often head the list and prevent her from -securing first-class work; (2) middle-men or sweaters lower the price to -starvation point; (3) contract work done in prisons or reformatories -brings about the same result; and (4) she is underbid from still another -quarter, that of the country woman who takes the work at any price -offered. - -These conditions govern the character and quality of the work obtained, -even the best firms being somewhat affected by the last two clauses. And -in every trade there may always be found three distinct classes of -employers: the west-side firms, which in many cases care for their -workmen, in degree at least, and where the work is done under conditions -that must be called favorable; the east-side firms, representing -generally cheaper material and lower rates; and last, the slop-work, -which may be either east or west, most often the former, and includes -every form of outrage and oppression that workers can know. - -Clothing in all its multiplied forms takes the first place in the -ninety-two trades, and the workers on what is known as "white wear" form -the large majority of the always increasing army. For many reasons, the -shirt-makers naturally head the list,--the shirt-makers about whom has -hung a certain sentimental interest since the day when poor Tom Hood's -impassioned plea in their behalf first saw the light. Yet to-day, in -spite of popular belief that they are the class most grossly wronged, -the shirt-maker fares far better than the majority of the workers on any -other form of clothing. This always, however, if she is fortunate enough -to have direct relation with some large factory, or with an -establishment which gives out the work directly into the hands of the -women themselves. Given these conditions, it is possible for a -first-class operator to make from seven to twelve dollars per week, the -latter sum being certain only in the factories where steam is the motive -power and where experience has given the utmost facility in handling the -work. In one factory on the west side, employing some one hundred and -fifty girls, and where everything had been brought to almost -mathematical accuracy, the price paid per dozen for shirts was $2.40. -But one of the operatives was able to make a dozen a day, her usual -average being about nine, or five dozen per week of sixty hours. Here -every condition was exceptionally favorable. The building occupied the -centre of a small square, and thus had light on all sides; ventilation -was good; and the forewoman, on whose intelligence and good disposition -much of the comfort of the operatives depends, was far beyond the -average woman in this position. The working day was ten hours, with half -an hour for dinner, and the sanitary conditions more favorable than in -any other establishment of the same size. Many of the operatives had -been there for years, and the dull season, common to all phases of the -clothing trade, was never marked enough here to produce discharges or -materially lessen production. The wages averaged seven dollars per week, -though the laundry women and finishers seldom exceeded five. No -middle-men were employed, and none of the customary exactions in the way -of fines and other impositions were practised. Piece-work was regarded -as the only secure method for both employer and employed, as in such -case it rested with the girl herself to make the highest or the lowest -rate at pleasure. There were no holidays beyond the legal ones, but all -the freedom possible to constant labor was given, the place representing -the best conditions of this special industry. Another firm quite as well -known and employing equal number of workers had found it more expedient -to give up the factory system, and simply retained rooms for cutting and -general handling of the completed work, giving it out in packages to -workers at home. One woman employed by them for seven years had never -made anything but the button-holes in the small piece attached to the -bosom, and such fine lettering as was ordered for custom shirts, her -wages in the busy season being often twelve dollars a week, the year's -average, however, bringing them to seven. She worked exclusively at -home, and represented the best paid and most comfortable phase of the -industry. - -Descending a step, and turning to establishments on the east side, one -found every phase of sanitary condition, including under this head bad -ventilation, offensive odors, facilities for washing, quality of -drinking water, position of water-closets, length of time allowed for -lunch, length of working day, etc. Here the quality of the work was -lower, material, thread, and sewing being all of an order to be expected -from the price of the completed garment, ranging from forty to sixty -cents. The wages, however, did not fall so far below the average as -might be expected, the operator earning from five to eight dollars a -week during the busy season. But the greater number of manufacturers on -both east and west sides of the city turn over the work to middle-men, -or send it to the country, many factories being run in New Jersey and -Pennsylvania, where rents are merely nominal. This proved to be the case -with several firms whose names represent a large business, but who find -less trouble and more profit in the contract system. - -Still another method has gone far toward reducing the rates of payment -to the city worker, and this is the giving out the work in packages to -the wives and daughters of farmers in the outlying country. These women, -having homes, and thus no rent or general expenses to meet, take the -work at rates which for the city operators mean simply starvation, and -thus prices are kept down, and one more stumbling-block put in the way -of the unprotected worker. Careful examination of this phase shows that -the applicants, many of whom give assumed names, work simply for the -sake of pin-money, which is expended in dress. Now and then it is a case -of want, and often that of a woman who, failing to make her husband see -that she has any right to an actual cash share in what the work of her -own hands has helped to earn, turns to this as the only method of -securing some slight personal income. But for the most part, it is only -for pin-money; and no argument could convince these earners that their -work is in any degree illegitimate or fraught with saddest consequences -to those who, because of it, receive just so much the less. Nor would it -be possible to bring such argument to bear. To earn seems the -inalienable right of any who are willing to work, and the result of -methods will never be questioned by employer or employed, unless they -are forced to it by more powerful considerations than any at present -brought forward. - -I have chosen to give these details minutely because they are, -practically, the summing up, not only for shirt-making, but for every -trade which can be said to come under the head of clothing, whether for -men, women, or children,--this including every form of trimming or other -adornment used in dress from artificial flowers to gimps, fringes, and -buttons. And now, having given this general outline, we may pass to the -stories of the units that make up this army,--stories chosen from -quarters where doubt is impossible, and confirmed often by the unwilling -testimony of those from whom the work has come, giving with them also -the necessary details of the trades they may represent, and seeking -first, last, and always, only the actual facts that make up the life of -the worker. - - - - -CHAPTER SECOND. - -THE CASE OF ROSE HAGGERTY. - - -"The case of Rose Haggerty." So it stands on the little record-book in -which long ago certain facts began to have place, each one a count in -the indictment of the civilization of to-day, and each one the story not -only of Rose but of many another in like case. For the student of -conditions among working-women soon discovers that workers divide -themselves naturally into four classes: (1) those who have made -deliberate choice of a trade, fitted themselves carefully for it, and in -time become experts, certain of employment and often of becoming -themselves employers; (2) those who by death of relatives or other -accident of fortune have been thrown upon their own resources and accept -blindly the first means of support that offers, sometimes developing -unexpected power and meeting with the same success as the first class; -(3) those who have known no other life but that of work, and who accept -that to which they most incline with neither energy nor ability enough -to rise beyond a certain level; and (4) those who would not work at all -save for the pressure of poverty, and who make no effort to gain more -knowledge or to improve conditions. But the ebb and flow in this great -sea of toiling humanity wipes out all dividing lines, and each class so -shades into the next that formal division becomes impossible, but is -rather a series of interchanges with no confinement to fixed limits. -Often in passing from one trade to another, chance brings about much the -same result for each class, and no energy or patience of effort is -sufficient to check the inevitable descent into the valley of the -shadow, where despair walks forever hand in hand with endeavor. - -This time had by no means come for Rose, with just enough of her -happy-go-lucky father's nature to make her essentially optimistic. Born -in a Cherry Street tenement-house, she had refused to be killed by -semi-starvation or foul smells, or dirt of any nature whatsoever. Dennis -Haggerty, longshoreman professionally, and doer of all odd jobs in the -intervals of his discharges and re-engagements, explained the situation -to his own satisfaction, if not to that of Rose and the five other small -Haggertys remaining from the brood of twelve. - -"If a man wants his dhrink that bad that no matter what he's said -overnight he'd sell his soul by the time mornin' comes for even a -thimbleful, he's got jist to go to destruction, an' there's no sthoppin' -him. An' I've small call to be blamin' Norah whin she comforts herself a -bit in the same manner of way, nor will I so long's me name's Dennis -Haggerty. But you, Rose, you look out an' get any money you'll find in -me pockets, an' keep the children straight, an' all the saints'll see -you through the job." - -Rose listened, the laugh in her blue eyes shadowed by the sense of -responsibility that by seven was fully developed. She did not wonder -that her mother drank. Why not, when there was no fire in the stove, and -nothing to cook if there had been, and the children counted it a day -when they had a scraping of butter on the bread? But, as often happens -in these cases, the disgust at smell and taste of liquor grew with every -month of her life, and two at least of the children shared it. They were -never beaten; for Haggerty at his worst remained good-natured, and when -sober wept maudlin tears over his flock and swore that no drop should -ever pass his lips again; and Norah echoed every word, and for days -perhaps washed and scrubbed and scoured, earning fair wages, and -gradually redeeming the clothes or furniture pledged round the corner. -Rose went to school when she had anything to wear, and learned in time, -when she saw the first symptoms of another debauch, to bundle every -wearable thing together and take them and all small properties to the -old shoemaker on the first floor, where they remained in hiding till it -was safe to produce them again. She had learned this and many another -method before the fever which suddenly appeared in early spring took -not only her father and mother, but the small Dennis whose career as -newsboy had been her pride and delight, and who had been relied upon as -half at least of their future dependence. There remained, then, Norah, -hopelessly incurable of spinal disease and helpless to move save as Rose -lifted her, and the three little ones, as to whose special gifts there -was as yet no definite knowledge. In the mean time they were simply -three very clamorous mouths to be stopped with such food as might be; -and Rose entered a bag-factory a block away, leaving bread and knife and -molasses-pitcher by Norah's bed, and trusting the saints to avert -disaster from the three experimenting babies. She earned the first month -ten dollars, or two and a half a week, but being exceptionally quick, -was promoted in the second to four dollars weekly. The rent was six -dollars a month; and during the first one the old shoemaker came to the -rescue, had an occasional eye to the children, and himself paid the -rent, telling Rose to return it when she could. When the ten hours' -labor ended, the child, barely fourteen, rushed home to cook something -warm for supper, and when the children were comforted and tucked away in -the wretched old bed, that still was clean and decent, washed and mended -their rags of clothes, and brought such order as she could into the -forlorn room. - -It was the old shoemaker, a patient, sad-eyed old Scotchman, who also -had his story, who settled for her at last that a machine must be had -in order that she might work at home. The woman in the room back of his -took in shirts from a manufacturer on Division Street, and made often -seven and eight dollars a week. She was ready to teach, and in two or -three evenings Rose had practically mastered details, and settled that, -as she was so young, she would not apply for work in person, but take it -through Mrs. Moloney, who would be supposed to have gone into business -on her own account as a "sweater." Whatever temptations Mrs. Moloney may -have had to make a little profit as "middle-man," she resisted and -herself saw that the machine selected was a good one; that no advantage -was taken of Rose's inexperience; and that the agent had no opportunity -to follow out what had now and then been his method, and hint to the -girl that her pretty face entitled her to concessions that would be best -made in a private interview. Shame in every possible form and phase had -been part of the girl's knowledge since babyhood, but it had slipped -away from her, as a foul garment might fall from the fair statue over -which it had chanced to be thrown. It was not the innocence of -ignorance,--a poor possession at best. It was an ingrained repulsion, -born Heaven knows how, and growing as mysteriously with her growth, an -invisible yet most potent armor, recognized by every dweller in the -swarming tenement. She had her father's quick tongue and laughing eyes, -but they could flash as well, and the few who tried a coarse jest -shrunk back from both look and scorching word. - -Thus far all went well with the poor little fortunes. She worked always -ten and twelve, sometimes fourteen, hours a day, yet her strength did -not fail, and there was no dearth of work. It was in 1880, and prices -were nearly double the present rates. To-day work from the same -establishment means not over $4.50 per week, and has even fallen as low -as $3.50. In 1880 the shirts were given out by the dozen as at present, -going back to the factory to pass through the hands of the finisher and -buttonhole maker. The machine operator could make nine of the best class -of shirts in a day of ten hours, being paid for them at the rate of -$1.75 per dozen. Four spools of cotton, two hundred yards each, were -required for a dozen, the price of which must be deducted from the -receipts; but the firm preferred to supply twenty-four-hundred-yard -spools, at fifty cents for six-cord cotton used for the upper thread, -and thirty cents for the three-cord cotton used as under thread, the -present prices for same quality and size being respectively forty-five -and twenty-five cents. Making nine a day, the week's wages would be for -the four dozen and a half $7.87, or $7.50 deducting thread; but Rose -averaged five dozen weekly, and for nearly two years counted herself as -certain of not less than thirty dollars per month and often thirty-five. -The machine had been paid for. The room took on as comfortable a look -as its dingy walls and narrow windows would allow; and Bridget, age -five, had developed distinct genius for housekeeping, and washed dishes -and faces with equal energy and enthusiasm. She did all errands also, -and could not be cheated in the matter of change. She knew where the -largest loaves were to be had, and sniffed suspiciously at the packets -of tea. - -"By the time she's seven, she'll do all but the washing," Rose said with -pride, and Bridget reverted to childhood for an instant, and spun round -on one foot as she made answer:-- - -"Shure, I could now, if you'd only be lettin' me." - -"There's women on the west side that'll earn $2.50 a dozen, for work no -better than you're doing now," some one who had come from that quarter -said to her one day, but Rose shook her head. There is a curious -conservatism among these workers, who cling to familiar haunts and -regard unknown regions with suspicion and even terror. - -"I've no time for change," Rose said. "It might not be as certain when -I'd got it. I'll run no risks;" and she tugged her great bundle of work -up the stairs, rejoicing that living so near saved just so much on -expressage, a charge paid by the workers themselves. - -There were signs well known to the old hands of a probable reduction of -prices, weeks before the first cut came. More fault was found. A slipped -stitch or a break in the thread was pounced upon with even more -promptness than had been their usual portion. Some hands were -discharged, and at last came the general cut, resented by some, wailed -over by all, but accepted as inevitable. Another, and another, and -another followed. Too much production; too many Jew firms competing and -under-bidding; more and more foreigners coming in ready to take the work -at half price. These reasons and a dozen others of the same order were -given glibly, and at first with a certain show of kindliness and attempt -to soften harsh facts as much as possible. But the patience of diplomacy -soon failed, and questioners of all orders were told that if they did -not like it they had nothing to do but to leave and allow a crowd of -waiting substitutes to take their places at half rates. The shirt that -had sold for seventy-five cents and one dollar had gone down to -forty-five and sixty cents respectively, and as cottons and linens had -fallen in the same proportion, there was still profit for all but the -worker. Here and there were places on Grand or Division Streets where -they might even be bought for thirty and forty cents, the price per -dozen to the worker being at last from fifty to sixty cents. In the -factories it was still possible to earn some approximation to the old -rate, but employers had found that it was far cheaper to give out the -work; some choosing to give the entire shirt at so much per dozen; -others preferring to send out what is known as "team work," flaps being -done by one, bosoms by another, and so on. - -For a time Rose hemmed shirt-flaps at four cents a dozen, then took -first one form and then another of underclothing, the rates on which had -fallen in the same proportion, to find each as sure a means of -starvation as the last. She had no knowledge of ordinary family sewing, -and no means of obtaining such work, had any training fitted her for it; -domestic service was equally impossible for the same reason, and the -added one that the children must not be left, and she struggled on, -growing a little more haggard and worn with every week, but the pretty -eyes still holding a gleam of the old merriment. Even that went at last. -It was a hard winter. The steadiest work could not give them food enough -or warmth enough. The children cried with hunger and shivered with cold. -There was no refuge save in Norah's bed, under the ragged quilts; and -they cowered there till late in the day, watching Rose as she sat silent -at the sewing-machine. There was small help for them in the house. The -workers were all in like case, and for the most part drowned their -troubles in stale beer from the bucket-shop below. - -"Put the children in an asylum, and then you can marry Mike Rooney and -be comfortable enough," they said to her, but Rose shook her head. - -"I've mothered 'em so far, and I'll see 'em through," she said, "but the -saints only knows how. If I can't do it by honest work, there's one way -left that's sure, an' I'll try that." - -There came a Saturday night when she took her bundle of work, shirts -again, and now eighty-five cents a dozen. There were five dozen, and -when the $1.50 was laid aside for rent it was easy to see what remained -for food, coal, and light. Clothing had ceased to be part of the -question. The children were barefoot. They had a bit of meat on Sundays, -but for the rest, bread, potatoes, and tea were the diet, with a cabbage -and bit of pork now and then for luxuries. Norah had been failing, and -to-night Rose planned to buy her "something with a taste to it," and -looked at the sausages hanging in long links with a sudden reckless -determination to get enough for all. She was faint with hunger, and -staggered as she passed a basement restaurant, from which came savory -smells, snuffed longingly by some half-starved children. Her turn was -long in coming, and as she laid her bundle on the counter she saw -suddenly that her needle had "jumped," and that half an inch or so of a -band required resewing. As she looked the foreman's knife slipped under -the place, and in a moment half the band had been ripped. - -"That's no good," he said. "You're getting botchier all the time." - -"Give it to me," Rose pleaded. "I'll do it over." - -"Take it if you like," he said indifferently, "but there's no pay for -that kind o' work." - -He had counted her money as he spoke, and Rose cried out as she saw the -sum. - -"Do you mean you'll cheat me of the whole dozen because half an inch on -one is gone wrong?" - -"Call it what you like," he said. "R. & Co. ain't going to send out -anything but first-class work. Stand out of the way and let the next -have a chance. There's your three dollars and forty cents." - -Rose went out silently, choking down rash words that would have lost her -work altogether, but as she left the dark stairs and felt again the -cutting wind from the river, she stood still, something more than -despair on her face. The children could hardly fare worse without her -than with her. The river could not be colder than this cold world that -gave her no chance, and that had no place for anything but rascals. She -turned toward it as the thought came, but some one had her arm, and she -cried out suddenly and tried to wrench away. - -"Easy now," a voice said. "You're breakin' your heart for trouble, an' -here I am in the nick o' time. Come with me an' you'll have no more of -it, for my pocket's full to-night, an' that's more 'n it'll be in the -mornin' if you don't take me in tow." - -It was a sailor from a merchantman just in, and Rose looked at him for a -moment. Then she took his arm and walked with him toward Roosevelt -Street. - -It might be dishonor, but it was certainly food and warmth for the -children, and what did it matter? She had fought her fight for twenty -years, and it had been a vain struggle. She took his money when morning -came, and went home with the look that is on her face to-day. - -"I'll marry you out of hand," the sailor said to her; but Rose answered, -"No man alive'll ever marry me after this night," and she has kept her -word. She has her trade, and it is a prosperous one, in which wages -never fail. The children are warm and have no need to cry for hunger any -more. - -"It's not a long life we live," Rose says quietly. "My kind die early, -but the children will be well along, an' all the better when the time -comes that they've full sense for not having to know what way the living -comes. But let God Almighty judge who's to blame most--I that was -driven, or them that drove me to the pass I'm in." - - - - -CHAPTER THIRD. - -SOME METHODS OF A PROSPEROUS FIRM. - - -"The emancipation of women is certainly well under way, when all -underwear can be bought more cheaply than it is possible to make it up -at home, and simple suits of very good material make it hardly more -difficult for a woman to clothe herself without thought or worry, than -it has long been for a man." - -This was the word heard at a woman's club not long ago, and reinforced -within the week by two well-known journals edited in the interests of -women at large. The editorial page of one held a fervid appeal for -greater simplicity of dress and living in general, followed by half a -column of entreaty to women to buy ready-made clothing, and thus save -time for higher pursuits and the attainment of broader views. With -feebler pipe, but in the same key, sounded the second advocate of -simplification, adding:-- - - "Never was there a time when women could dress with as much real - elegance on as small an expenditure of money. Bargains abound, and - there is small excuse for dowdiness. The American woman is fast - taking her place as the best-dressed woman in the civilized world." - -Believing very ardently that the right of every woman born includes not -only "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness," but beauty also, it -being one chief end of woman to include in her own personality all -beauty attainable by reasonable means, I am in heartiest agreement with -one side of the views quoted. But in this quest we have undertaken, and -from which, once begun, there is no retreat, strange questions arise; -and in this new dawn of larger liberty and wider outlook is seen the -little cloud which, if no larger than a man's hand, holds the seed of as -wild a storm as has ever swept over humanity. - -For emancipation on the one side has meant no corresponding emancipation -for the other; and as one woman selects, well pleased, garment after -garment, daintily tucked and trimmed and finished beyond any capacity of -ordinary home sewing, marvelling a little that a few dollars can give -such lavish return, there arises, from narrow attic and dark, foul -basement, and crowded factory, the cry of the women whose life-blood is -on these garments. Through burning, scorching days of summer; through -marrow-piercing cold of winter, in hunger and rags, with white-faced -children at their knees, crying for more bread, or, silent from long -weakness, looking with blank eyes at the flying needle, these women toil -on, twelve, fourteen, sixteen hours even, before the fixed task is done. -The slice of baker's bread and the bowl of rank black tea, boiled to -extract every possibility of strength, are taken, still at the machine. -It is easier to sit there than in rising and movement to find what -weariness is in every limb. There is always a child old enough to boil -the kettle and run for a loaf of bread; and all share the tea, which -gives a fictitious strength, laying thus the foundation for the fragile, -anæmic faces and figures to be found among the workers in the -bag-factories, paper-box manufactories, etc. - -"Why don't they go into the country?" is often asked. "Why do they -starve in the city when good homes and ample pay are waiting for them?" - -It is not with the class to whom this question is applicable that we -deal to-day. Of the army of two hundred thousand who battle for bread, -nearly a third have no resource but the needle, and of this third many -thousands are widows with children, to whom they cling with a devotion -as strong as wiser mothers feel, and who labor night and day to prevent -the scattering into asylums, and consequent destruction of the family as -a family. They are widows through many causes that can hardly be said to -come under the head of "natural." Drunkenness leads, and the thousand -accidents that are born of drunkenness, but there are other methods -arising from the same greed that underlies most modern civilization. The -enormous proportion of accidents, which, if not killing instantly, imply -long disability and often death as the final result, come nine tenths of -the time from criminal disregard of any ordinary means of protecting -machinery. One great corporation, owning thousands of miles of railroad, -saw eight hundred men disabled in greater or less degree in one year, -and still refused to adopt a method of coupling cars which would have -saved the lives of the sixty-eight brakemen who were sacrificed to the -instinct of economy dominating the superintendent. The same man refused -to roof over a spot where a number of freight-handlers were employed -during a stormy season, rheumatism and asthma being the consequences for -many, and his reason had at least the merit of frankness,--a merit often -lacking in explanations that, even when most plausible, cover as -essential a brutality of nature. - -"Men are cheaper than shingles," he said. "There's a dozen waiting to -fill the place of one that drops out." - -In another case, in a great saw-mill, the owner had been urged to -protect a lath-saw, swearing at the persistent request, even after the -day when one of his best men was led out to the ambulance, his right -hand hanging by a bit of skin, his death from lockjaw presently leaving -one more widow to swell the number. It is of such men that a sturdy -thinker wrote last year, "Man is a self-damnable animal," and it is on -such men that the curse of the worker lies heaviest. That they exist at -all is hardly credited by the multitude who believe that, for this -country at least, oppression and outrage are only names. That they -exist in numbers will be instantly denied; yet to one who has heard the -testimony given by weeping women, and confirmed by the reluctant -admissions of employers themselves, there comes belief that no words can -fully tell what wrong is still possible from man to man in this America, -the hope of nations. - -Is this a digression hardly to be pardoned in a paper on the trades and -lives of women,--a deliberate turning toward an issue which has neither -place nor right in such limits? On the contrary, it is all part of the -same wretched story. The chain that binds humanity in one has not one -set of links for men and another for women; and the blow aimed at one is -felt also not only by those nearest, but by successive ranks to whom the -shock, though only by indirect transmission, is none the less deadly in -effect. And thus the wrong done on the huge scale appropriate to a great -corporation finds its counterpart in a lesser but quite as well -organized a wrong, born also of the spirit of greed, and working its -will as pitilessly. - -"If you employed on a large scale you would soon find that you ceased to -look at your men as men," said an impatient iron-worker not long ago. -"They are simply so much producing power. I don't propose to abuse them, -but I've no time even to remember their faces, much less their names." - -Precisely on this principle reasons the employer of women, who are even -less to be regarded as personalities than men. For the latter, once a -year at least the employer becomes conscious of the fact that these -masses of "so much producing power" are resolvable into votes, and on -election day, if on no other, worthy of analysis. There is no such -necessity in the case of women. The swarming crowd of applicants are -absolutely at the mercy of the manager or foreman, who, unless there is -a sudden pressure of work, makes the selections according to fancy, -youth and any gleam of prettiness being unfailing recommendations. There -are many firms of which this could not be said with any justice. There -are many more in which it is the law, tacitly laid down, but none the -less a fact. With such methods of selection go other methods supposed to -be confined to the lowest grade of work and the lowest type of employer, -both being referred to regions like Baxter or Division Streets. But they -are to be found east or west indifferently, the illustration at present -in mind being on Canal Street, within sound of Broadway. It is a -prosperous firm, one whose trade-mark can be trusted; and here are a few -of the methods by which this prosperity has been attained, and goes on -in always-increasing ratio. - -In the early years of their existence as a firm they manufactured on the -premises, but, like many other firms, found that it was a very -unnecessary expense. A roof over the heads of a hundred or more women, -with space for their machines, meant not less than twenty-five hundred -dollars a year to be deducted from the profits. Even floors in some -cheaper quarter were still an expense to be avoided if possible. The -easy way out of the difficulty was to make the women themselves pay the -rent, not in any tangible imposition of tax, but none the less certainly -in fact. Nothing could be simpler. Manufacturing on the premises had -only to cease, and it could even be put as a favor to the women that -they were allowed to work at home. The rule established itself at once, -and the firm, smiling serenely at the stoppage of this most damaging and -most unnecessary leak, proceeded to make fresh discoveries of equally -satisfactory possibilities. To each woman who applied for work it was -stated:-- - -"We send all packages from the cutting-room by express, the charges to -be paid by you. It's a small charge, only fifteen cents, to be paid when -the bundle comes in." - -"We can come for ours. We live close by. We don't want to lose the -fifteen cents," a few objected, but the answer was invariable:-- - -"It suits us best to make up the packages in the cutting-room, and if -you don't like the arrangement there are plenty waiting that it will -suit well enough." - -Plenty waiting! How well they knew it, and always more and more as the -ships came in, and the great tide of "producing power" flowed through -Castle Garden, and stood, always at high-water mark, in the wards where -cheap labor may be found. Plenty waiting; and these women who could not -wait went home and turned over their small store of pennies for the -fifteen cents, the payment of which meant either a little less bread or -an hour or two longer at the sewing-machine, defined as the emancipator -of women. - -In the mean time the enterprising firm had made arrangements with a -small express company to deliver the packages at twelve cents each, and -could thus add to the weekly receipts a clear gain of three cents per -head. It is unnecessary to add that they played into each other's hands, -and that the wagon-drivers had no knowledge of anything beyond the fact -that they were to collect the fifteen cents and turn it over to their -superiors. But in some manner it leaked out; and a driver whose feelings -had been stirred by the sad face of a little widow on Sixth Street told -her that the fifteen cents was "a gouge," and they had all better put -their heads together and refuse to pay more than twelve cents. - -"If we had any heads, it might do to talk about putting them together," -the little widow said bitterly. "For my part, I begin to believe women -are born fools, but I'll see what I can do." - -This "seeing" involved earning a dollar or two less for the week, but -the cheat seemed so despicable a one that indignation made her -reckless, and she went to the woman who had first directed her to the -firm and had been in its employ almost from the beginning. - -"It's like 'em; oh, yes, it's like 'em!" she said, "but we've no time to -spend in stirring up things, and you know well enough what would be the -end of it if we did,--discharged, and somebody else getting our wages. -You'd better not talk too much if you want to keep your place." - -"That isn't any worse than the thread dodge," another woman said. "I -know from a clerk in the house where they buy their thread, that they -charge us five cents a dozen more than it costs them, though they make a -great point of giving it to us at cost and cheaper than we could buy it -ourselves." - -"Why don't you club together and buy, then?" the little widow asked, to -hear again the formula, "And get your walking-ticket next day? We know a -little better than that." - -A few weeks later a new system of payment forced each worker to -sacrifice from half an hour to an hour of precious time, her only -capital. Hitherto payments had been made at the desk when work was -brought in, but now checks were given on a Bowery bank, and the women -must walk over in heat and storm alike, and wait their turn in the long -line on the benches. If paid by the week this would make little -difference, as any loss of time would be the employers', but this form -of payment is practically abolished, piece-work done at home meaning the -utmost amount of profit to the employer, every loss in time being paid -by the workers themselves. When questioned as to why the check system of -payment had been adopted by this and various other firms, the reply was -simply:-- - -"It saves trouble. The bank has more time to count out money than we -have." - -"But the women? Does it seem quite fair that they should be the losers?" - -"Fair? Anything's fair in business. You'd find that out if you undertook -to do it." - -As the case then at present stands, for this firm, and for many which -have adopted the same methods, the working-woman not only pays the rent -that would be required for a factory, but gives them a profit on -expressage, thread, time lost in going to bank, and often the price on a -dozen of garments, payment for the dozen being deducted by many foremen -if there is a flaw in one. This foreman becomes the scapegoat if -unpleasant questions are asked by any whose investigation might bring -discredit on the firm. In some cases they refuse positively to give any -information, but in most, questions are answered with suspicious -glibness, and if reference is made to any difficulties encountered by -the women in their employ, they take instant refuge in the statement:-- - -"Oh, that was before the last foreman left. We discharged him as soon as -we found out how he had served the women." - -"Do you see those goods?" another asked, pointing to a counter filled -with piles of chemises. "How do you suppose we make a cent when you can -buy a chemise like that for fifty cents? We don't. The competition is -ruining us, and we're talking of giving up the business." - -"That's so. It's really more in charity to the women than anything else -that we go on," his partner remarked, with a look toward him which -seemed to hold a million condensed winks. "That price is just ruin; -that's what it is." - -Undoubtedly, but not for the firm, as the following figures will -show,--figures given by a competent forewoman in a large establishment -where she had had eleven years' experience: twenty-seven yards and -three-quarters are required for one dozen chemises, the price paid for -such cotton as is used in one selling at fifty cents being five cents -per yard, or $1.40 for the whole amount; thirty yards of edging at 4-1/2 -cents a yard furnishes trimming for the dozen, at $1.35; and four -two-hundred-yard spools of cotton are required, at twenty-five cents per -dozen, or eight cents per dozen garments. The seamer who sews up and -hems the bodies of the garments receives thirty cents a dozen, and the -"maker"--this being the technical term for the more experienced worker -who puts on band and sleeves--receives from ninety cents to one dollar -a dozen, though at present the rates run from seventy-five to ninety -cents. Our table, then, stands as follows:-- - - Cloth for one dozen chemises $1.40 - Edging " " 1.35 - Thread " " .08 - Seamer " " .30 - Maker " " .90 - ----- - Total cost of dozen $4.03 - Wholesale price per dozen 5.25 - Profit per dozen 1.22 - -The chemise which sells at seven dollars per dozen has the additional -value in quality of cloth and edging, the same price being paid the -work-women, this price varying only in very slight degree till the -excessively elaborate work demanded by special orders. One class of -women in New York, whose trade has been a prosperous one since ever time -began, pay often one hundred dollars a dozen for the garments, which are -simply a mass of lace and cobweb cambric, tucked and puffed, and -demanding the highest skill of the machine operator, who even in such -case counts herself happy if she can make eight or nine dollars a week. -And if any youth and comeliness remain to her, why need there be wonder -if the question frame itself: "Why am I the maker of this thing, earning -barest living, when, if I choose, I, too, can be buyer and wearer and -live at ease?" - -Wonder rather that one remains honest when the only thing that pays is -vice. - -For the garments of lowest grade to be found in the cheapest quarters of -the city the price ranges from twenty-five to thirty cents, the maker -receiving only thirty cents a dozen, and cloth, trimming, and thread -being of the lowest quality. The profit in such case is wellnigh -imperceptible; but for the class of employer who secures it, content to -grovel in foul streets, and know no joy of living save the one delight -of seeing the sordid gains roll up into hundreds of thousands, it is -still profit, and he is content. As I write, an evening paper containing -the advertisement of a leading dry-goods firm is placed before me, and I -read: "Chemises, from 12-1/2 cents up." Here imagination stops. No list -of cost prices within my reach tells me how this is practicable. But one -thing is certain. Even here it is not the employer who loses; and if it -is a question of but a third of a cent profit, be sure that that profit -is on his side, never on the side of the worker. - - - - -CHAPTER FOURTH. - -THE BARGAIN COUNTER. - - -The problem of the last chapter is, if not plain, at least far plainer -than when it left the pen, and it has become possible to understand how -the garment sold at twelve and a half cents may still afford its margin -of profit. It has also been made plain that that profit is, as there -stated, "never on the side of the worker," but that it is wrung from her -by the sharpest and most pitiless of all the methods known to -unscrupulous men and the women who have chosen to emulate them. For it -has been my evil fortune in this quest to find women not only as filled -with greed and as tricky and uncertain in their methods as the worst -class of male employers, but even more ingenious in specific modes of -imposition. Without exception, so far as I can discover, they have been -workers themselves, released for a time it may be by marriage, but -taking up the trade again, either from choice or necessity. They have -learned every possibility of cheating. They know also far better than -men every possibility of nagging, and as they usually own a few machines -they employ women on their own premises and keep a watchful eye lest -the smallest advantage be gained. The majority prefer to act as -"sweaters," this releasing them from the uncertainties attending the -wholesale manufacturer, and as the work is given to them at prices at or -even below the "life limit," it is not surprising that those to whom -they in turn pass it on find their percentage to mean something much -nearer death than life. - -"Only blind eyes could have failed to see all this before," some reader -is certain to say. "How is it possible that any one dealing directly -with the question could doubt for a moment the existence of this and a -thousand-fold worse fraud?" - -Only possible from the same fact that makes these papers a necessity. -They hold only new phases of the old story. The grain has had not one -threshing alone, but many, and yet for the most patient and persistent -of searchers after truth is ever fresh surprise at its nature and -extent. Given one or a dozen exposures of a fraud, and we settle -instinctively into the conviction that its power has ended. It is barely -conceivable to the honest mind that cheating has wonderful staying -power, and that not one nor a thousand exposures will turn into straight -paths feet used to crooked ones. And when a business man, born to all -good things and owning a name known as the synonyme of the best the -Republic offers to-day, states calmly, "There is no such thing as -business without lying," what room remains for honor or justice or -humanity among men whose theory is the same, and who can gild it with no -advantage of birth or training? It is a wonderful century, and we are -civilizing with a speed that takes away the breath and dims the vision, -but there are dark corners still, and in the shadow Greed and Corruption -and Shame hold high carnival, with nameless shapes, before which even -civilization cowers. Their trace is found at every turn, but we deal -with only one to-day, helpless, even when face to face, to say what -method will most surely mean destruction. - -We settle so easily into the certainty that nothing can be as bad as it -seems, that moments of despair come to all who would rouse men to -action. Not one generation nor many can answer the call sounding forever -in the ears of every son of man; but he who has heeded has at least made -heeding more possible for those that follow; and the time comes at last -when the way must be plain for all. To make it plainer many a popular -conviction must be laid aside, and among them the one that follows. - -It is a deeply rooted belief that the poor understand and feel for the -poor beyond any possibility in those who have never known cold and -hunger and rags save as uncomfortable terms used too freely by -injudicious agitators. Like many another popular belief the groundwork -is in the believer's own mind, and has its most tangible existence in -story-books. There are isolated cases always of self-sacrifice and -compassion and all gentle virtues, but long experience goes to show that -if too great comfort is deadening, too little is brutalizing, and that -pity dies in the soul of man or woman to whom no pity has been shown. It -is easy to see, then, how the woman who has found injustice and -oppression the law of life, deals in the same fashion when her own time -comes, and tyrannizes with the comfortable conviction that she is by -this means getting even with the world. She knows every sore spot, and -how best to make the galled jade wince, and lightens her own task by the -methods practised in the past upon herself. This is one species to be -dealt with, and a far less dangerous one than the craftier and less -outspokenly brutal order, just above her in grade. It is by these last -that some of the chief frauds on women are perpetrated, and here we find -one source of the supplies that furnish the bargain counters. - -We read periodically of firms detected in imposing upon women, and are -likely to feel that such exposure has ended their career as firms once -for all. In every trade will be found one or more of these, whose -methods of obtaining hands are fraudulent, and who advertise for "girls -to learn the trade," with no intention of retaining them beyond the time -in which they remain content to work without pay. There are a thousand -methods of evasion, even when the law faces them and the victim has made -formal complaint. As a rule she is too ignorant and too timid for -complaint or anything but abject submission, and this fact is relied -upon as certain foundation for success. But, if determined enough, the -woman has some redress in her power. Within a few years, after long and -often defeated attempts, the Woman's Protective Union has brought about -legislation against such fraud, and any employer deliberately -withholding wages is liable to fifteen days' imprisonment and the costs -of the suit brought against him, a fact of which most of them seem to be -still quite unaware. This law, so far as imprisonment is concerned, has -no application to women, and they have learned how to evade the points -which might be made to bear upon them, by hiring rooms, machines, etc., -and swearing that they have no personal property that can be levied -upon. Or, if they have any, they transfer it to some friend or relative, -as in the case of Madame M----, a fashionable dressmaker notorious for -escaping from payment seven times out of ten. She has accumulated money -enough to become the owner of a large farm on Long Island, but so -ingeniously have all her arrangements been made that it is impossible to -make her responsible, and her case is used at the Union as a standing -illustration of the difficulty of circumventing a woman bent upon -cheating. - -A firm, a large proportion of whose goods are manufactured in this -manner, can well afford to stock the bargain counters of popular -stores. They can afford also to lose slightly by work imperfectly done, -though, even with learners, this is in smaller proportion than might be -supposed. The girl who comes in answer to their advertisement is anxious -to learn the trade at once, and gives her best intelligence to mastering -every detail. Her first week is likely to hold an energy of effort that -could hardly last, and she can often be beguiled by small payments and -large promises to continue weeks and even months, always expecting the -always delayed payment. Firms dealing in such fashion change their -quarters often, unless in league with police captains who have been -given sufficient reasons for obliviousness of their methods, and who -have also been known to silence timid complaints with the threat of a -charge of theft. But there is always a multitude ready to be duped, and -no exposure seems sufficient to prevent this, and women who have once -established a business on this system seem absolutely reckless as to any -possible consequences. - -There is at present on Third Avenue a Mrs. F----, who for eleven years -has conducted a successful business built upon continuous fraud. She is -a manufacturer of underwear, and the singular fact is that she has -certain regular employees who have been with her from the beginning, and -who, while apparently unconscious of her methods, are practically -partners in the fraud. She is a woman of good presence and address, and -one to whom girls submit unquestioningly, contending, even in court, -that she never meant to cheat them; and it is still an open question -with those who know her best how far she herself recognizes the fraud in -her system. The old hands deny that it is her custom to cheat, and -though innumerable complaints stand against her, she has usually paid on -compulsion, and insisted that she always meant to. Her machines never -lack operators, and the grade of work turned out is of the best quality. -Her advertisement appears at irregular intervals, is answered by swarms -of applicants, and there are always numbers waiting their turn. On a -side street a few blocks distant is a deep basement, crowded with -machines and presided over by a woman with many of her personal -characteristics. It is the lowest order of slop work that is done here, -but it helps to fill the bargain counters of the poorer stores, and the -workers are an always shifting quantity. It is certain that both places -are practically the property of Mrs. F----, but no man has yet been -cunning enough to determine once for all her responsibility, and no law -yet framed covers any ground that she has chosen as her own. Her -prototypes are to be found in every trade open to women, and their -numbers grow with the growth of the great city and strengthen in like -proportion. The story of one is practically the story of all. Popularly -supposed to be a method of trickery confined chiefly to Jews, -investigation shows that Americans must share the odium in almost as -great degree, and that the long list includes every nationality known to -trade. - -We have dealt thus far with fraud as the first and chief procurer for -bargain counters. Another method results from a fact that thus far must -sum up as mainly Jewish. Till within very little more than a year, a -large dry-goods firm on the west side employed many women in its -underwear department. The work was piece-work, and done by the class of -women who own their own machines and work at home. Prices were never -high, but the work was steady and the pay prompt. The firm for a time -made a specialty of "Mother Hubbard" night-gowns, for which they paid -one dollar a dozen for "making," this word covering the making and -putting in of yoke and sleeves, the "seamer" having in some cases made -the bodies at thirty cents a dozen. Many of the women, however, made the -entire garment at $1.30 per dozen, ten being the utmost number -practicable in a day of fourteen hours. Suddenly the women were informed -that their services would not be required longer. An east-side firm -bearing a Jewish name had contracted to do the same work at eighty cents -a dozen, and all other underwear in the same proportions. Steam had -taken the place of foot-power, and the women must find employment with -firms who were willing to keep to slower methods. Necessarily these are -an always lessening minority. Competition in this race for wealth -crushes out every possibility of thought for the worker save as so much -producing power, and what hand and foot cannot do steam must. In several -cases in this special manufacture the factories have been transferred to -New Jersey and Pennsylvania, where rent is a mere song, and where girls -flock in from the adjacent country, eager for the work that represents -something higher than either ordinary mill work or the household service -they despise. - -"What can we do?" said one manufacturer lately, when asked how he -thought the thing would end. "If there were any power quicker than -steam, or any way of managing so that women could feed five or six -machines, that would have to come next, else every one of us would go to -the wall together, the pressure is so tremendous. Of course there's no -chance for the women, but then you must remember there's precious little -chance for the employer either. This competition is a sort of insanity. -It gluts the market with cheap goods, and gives a sense of prosperity, -but it is the death of all legitimate, reasonable business. It won't -surprise me if this whole trade of manufacturing underwear becomes a -monopoly, and one man--like O'H----, for instance--swallows up the whole -thing. Lord help the women then, for there'll be no help in man!" - -"Suppose co-operation were tried? What would be the effect?" - -"No effect, because there isn't confidence enough anywhere to make men -dare a co-operative scheme. Even the workers would distrust it, and a -sharp business man laughs in your face if you mention the word. It -doesn't suit American notions. It might be a good thing if there were -any old-fashioned business men left,--men content with slow profits and -honest dealing,--as my father was, for instance. But he wouldn't have a -ghost of a chance to-day. The whole system of business is rotten, and -there will have to be a reconstruction clean from the bottom, though -it's the men that need it first. We're the maddest nation for money on -the face of the earth, and the race is a more killing one every year. -I'm half inclined to think sometimes that mankind will soon be pretty -much a superfluity, the machines are getting so intelligent; and it may -be these conditions that seem to upset you so are simply means of -killing off those that are not wanted, and giving place to a less -sensitive order of beings. Lord help them, I say again, for there's no -help in man." - -The speaker nodded, as if this rather unexpected flight of imagination -was an inspiration in which might lie the real solution of all -difficulties, and hurried away to his waiting niche in the great -competitive system. And as he went, there came to me words spoken by one -of the workers, in whose life hope was dead, and who also had her theory -of any future under to-day's conditions:-- - -"I've worked eleven years. I've tried five trades with my needle and -machine. My shortest day has been fourteen hours, for I had the children -and they had to be fed. There's not one of these trades that I don't -know well. It isn't work that I've any trouble in getting. It's wages. -Five years ago I could earn $1.50 a day, and we were comfortable. Then -it began to go down,--$1.25, then $1.00. There it stopped awhile, and I -got used to that, and could even get some remains of comfort out of it. -I had to plan to the last half cent. We went cold often, but we were -never hungry. But then it fell again,--to ninety cents, to eighty-five. -For a year the best that I can do I have earned not over eighty cents a -day,--sometimes only seventy-five. I'm sixty-two years old. I can't -learn new ways. I am strong. I always was strong. I run the machine -fourteen hours a day, with just the stoppings that have to be to get the -work ready. I've never asked a man alive for a penny beyond what my own -hands can earn, and I don't want it. I suppose the Lord knows what it -all means. It's His world and His children in it, and I've kept myself -from going crazy many a time by saying it was His world and that somehow -it must all come right in the end. But I don't believe it any more. He's -forgotten. There's nothing left but men that live to grind the face of -the poor; that chuckle when they find a new way of making a cent or two -more a week out of starving women and children. I never thought I -should feel so; I don't know myself; but I tell you I'm ready for murder -when I think of these men. If there's no justice above, it isn't quite -dead below; and if men with money will not heed, the men and the women -without money will rise some day. How? I don't know. We've no time to -plan, and we're too tired to think, but it's coming somehow, and I'm not -ashamed to say I'll join in if I live to see it come. It's seas of tears -that these men sail on. It's our life-blood they drink and our flesh -that they eat. God help them if the storm comes, for there'll be no help -in man." - -Employer and employed had ended in wellnigh the same words; but the gulf -between no words have spanned, and it widens day by day. - - - - -CHAPTER FIFTH. - -A FASHIONABLE DRESSMAKER. - - -"Come now, be reasonable, won't you? You've got to move on, you know, -and why don't you do it?" - -"I'm that reasonable that a bench of judges couldn't be more so; and -I'll not move on for anything less than dynamite, and I ain't sure I -would for that. It's only a choice between starvation and going into the -next world in little bits, and I don't suppose it makes much difference -which way it's done." - -The small, pale, dogged-looking little woman who announced this -conviction did not even rise from the steps where she sat looking up to -the big policeman, who faced her uneasily, half turning as if he would -escape the consequences of rash action if he knew how. Nothing could be -more mysterious. For it was within sight of Broadway, on one of the -best-known side streets near Union Square, where business signs were few -and of the most decorous order, and where before one door, bearing the -name of one of the best-known fashionable dressmakers, a line of -carriages stood each day during the busy season. A name hardly less -known was on the door-plate of the great house before which she sat, and -which still bore every mark of prosperous ownership, while from one of -the windows looked the elaborately dressed head of Madame herself, the -anxiety in her eyes contradicting the scornful smile on her thin lips. -The door just beyond No. -- opened, and a stout gentleman descended one -step and stood eying the policeman belligerently. That official looked -up the street as if wishing for cry of "murder" or "stop thief" around -the corner, but hearing neither, concentrated again on the antagonist -whose irregular methods defied precedent and gave him a painful sense of -insecurity. If two could listen, why not three?--and I paused near the -steps, eyed considerately by the stout gentleman, who was evidently on -the outlook for allies. A look of intelligence passed between Madame and -the policeman, and her head disappeared from the window, a blind on the -second story moving slightly and announcing a moment later that she had -taken a less conspicuous post of observation. - -"Move on now, I tell you!" began the policeman again, but paused, for as -he spoke a slender, bright-eyed girl came swiftly toward them, and -paused on the first step with a glance of curiosity at the little group. - -"Have you come to answer Madame M----'s advertisement?" the little woman -said, as she rose from the steps and laid her hand detainingly on the -hurrying figure. - -"Yes," the girl answered hesitatingly, pulling away from the hand that -held. - -"Then, unless you've got anything else to do and like to give your time -and strength for naught, keep away. You'll get no wages, no matter -what's promised. I've been there six months, kept on by fair promises, -and I know. I'll let no girl go in there without warning." - -"It's a good-looking place," the girl said doubtfully. - -"It's a den of thieves all the same. If you don't believe me, come down -to the Woman's Protective Union on Clinton Place, and you'll see my case -on the book there, and judgment against this woman, that's no more mercy -than a Hottentot and lies that smoothly that she'd humbug an angel of -light. Ah! that's good!" she added, for the girl had shaken off her hand -and sped away as swiftly as she had come. "That's seven since yesterday, -and I wish it were seven hundred. It's time somebody turned watchdog." - -"That ain't your business. That's a matter for the law," said the big -policeman, who had glanced anxiously up to the second-story window and -then looked reassured and serene, as the stout gentleman made a -significant movement, which indicated that bribery was as possible for -one sex as for the other. "The law'll straighten out anything that -you've a mind to have it." - -"The law! Lord help them that think the law is going to see them -through," the small woman said, with a fierceness that made the big -policeman start and lay his hand on his club. "What's the law worth when -it can't give to you one dollar of two hundred and eight that's owed; -and she that earned them gasping her life out with consumption? If it -was my account alone do you suppose I'd care? Mine's eighty-five, and I -went to law for it, to find she'd as long a head as she has smooth -tongue, and had fixed things so that there wasn't a stick of furniture -nor a dollar of property that could be levied on. If she'd been a man -the new law that gives a cheating employer fifteen days' imprisonment -might have worked with her as it's worked with many a rascal that never -knew he could be brought up with a round turn. But she's a woman and she -slides through, and a judgment against her isn't worth the paper it's -written on. So as I can't take it out in money I take it out in being -even with her. There are the papers that show I don't lie, and here I -sit the time I've fixed to sit, and if she gets the three new hands -she's after, it won't be because I haven't done what came to me to do to -hinder it." - -The policeman had moved away before the words ended, the stout gentleman -having descended the steps for a moment, and stood in a position which -rendered his little transaction feasible and almost invisible. He -beckoned to me as the small woman sat down again on the steps, and I -followed him into the vestibule. - -"You're interested, my dear madam," he said. "You're interested, and you -ought to be. I've stayed home from business to make sure she wasn't -interfered with, and I'd do it again with the greatest pleasure. I'd -like to post one like her before every establishment in New York where -cheating goes on, and I'm going to see this thing through!" - -There was no time for questions. My appointment must be kept, and with -one pause to take the name and number of the small Nemesis I went my -way. Three days later she sat there still, and on the following one, as -the warm spring rain fell steadily, she kept her post, sheathed in a -rubber cloak, and protected by an umbrella which, from its size and -quality, I felt must be the stout gentleman's. With Saturday night her -self-imposed siege ended, and she marched away, leaving the enemy badly -discomfited and much more disposed to consider the rights of the -individual, if not of the worker in general. As Madame's prices were -never less than fifty dollars for the making of a suit, ranging from -this to a hundred or more, and as her three children were still small -and her husband an undiscoverable factor, it became an interesting -question to know where she placed the profits which, even when lessened -by non-paying customers, could never be anything but great. Madame, -however, had been too keen even for the sharp-witted lawyer of the -Protective Union, whose utmost efforts only disclosed the fact that she -was the probable backer of a manufacturer whose factory and farm were on -Long Island, and whose business capacity had till within a few years -never insured him more than a bare living. - -It is an old story, yet an always new one, and in this case Madame had -quieted her conscience by providing a comfortable lunch for the workers -and allowing them more space than is generally the portion in a busy -establishment. Well housed and well fed through the day and paid at -intervals enough to meet the demands of rent or board bill, it was easy -to satisfy her hands by the promise of full and speedy settlement, and -when this failed, to tell a pitiful tale of unpaid bills and -conscienceless customers, who could not be forced. When these resources -were exhausted discharge solved any further difficulties, and a new set -came in, to undergo the same experience. In an establishment where -honesty has any place, the wages are rather beyond the average, -skirt-hands receiving from seven to nine dollars a week and waist-hands -from ten to fifteen. In the case of stores this latter class make from -eighteen to forty dollars per week, and often accumulate enough capital -to start in business for themselves. But a skirt-hand like Mary M---- -seldom passes on to anything higher, and counts herself well paid if -her week of sixty hours brings her nine dollars, not daring to grumble -seriously if it falls to seven or even six. On the east side the same -work must be done for from four to six dollars a week, the latter sum -being considered high pay. But the work is an advance upon factory work -and has a better sound, the dressmaker's assistant looking down upon the -factory hand or even the seamstress as of an inferior order. - -In time I learned the full story of the little woman, ordinarily -reticent and shrinking, but brought by trouble and indignation to the -fiercest protest against oppression. Born in a New-England village she -had learned a milliner's trade, to which she presently added -dressmaking, and succeeded in making a fair living, till bitten by the -desire to see larger life and share all the good that the city seems to -offer the shut-in country life, she came to New York with her small -savings, expecting to find work easily, and did so, going at once into a -store where a friend was at work. Sanitary conditions were all bad. Her -hall bedroom on a fourth floor and the close confinement all did their -work, and a long illness wasted strength and savings. When recovery came -her place had been filled; and she wandered from store to store seeking -employment, doing such odd jobs as were found at intervals, and -powerless to recover the lost ground. - -"It was like heaven to me," she said, "when my friend came back to the -city and got me that place as skirt-hand at Madame M----'s. I was so far -gone I had even thought of the river, and said to myself it might be the -easiest way out. You can't help but like Madame, for she's -smooth-tongued and easy, and praises your work, and she made me think -I'd soon be advanced and get the place I ought to have. She paid -regularly at first, and I began to pick up courage. It was over-hours -always. Madame would come in smiling and say: 'Ah, dear girls! What -trouble! It is an order that must be finished so soon. Who will be kind -and stay so leetle longer?' Then we all stayed, and she'd have tea made -and send it in, and sandwiches or something good, and they all said, -'She's an angel. You won't find anybody like Madame.' She was so -plausible, too, that even when there was longer and longer time between -the payments the girls didn't blame her, but borrowed of one another and -put off their landladies and managed all ways to save her feelings. -Jenny G---- had been here longer than any of them, and she worshipped -Madame and wouldn't hear a word even when one or another complained. But -Jenny's feet were on the ground and she hadn't a stitch of warm -underclothes, and she took a cold in December, and by January it had -tight hold of her. I went to Madame myself then, and begged her to pay -Jenny if it wasn't but a little, and she cried and said if she could -only raise the money she would. She didn't; and by and by I went again, -and then she turned ugly. I looked at her dumfounded when she spoke her -real mind and said if we didn't like it we could leave; there were -plenty of others. I wouldn't believe my ears even, and said to myself -she was worn out with trouble and couldn't mean a word of it. I wanted -money for myself, but I wouldn't ask even for anybody but Jenny. - -"Next day Madame brought her ten dollars of the two hundred and twenty -she owed her, and Jenny got shoes; but it was too late. I knew it well, -for I'd seen my sister go the same way. Quick consumption ain't to be -stopped with new shoes or anything but new lungs, and there's no patent -for them yet that ever I've heard of. She was going last night when I -went round, and sure as you live I'm going to put her death in the paper -myself. I've been saving my money off lunches to do it, and I'll write -it: 'Murdered by a fashionable dressmaker on ---- Street, in January, -1886, Jenny G----, age nineteen years and six months.' Maybe they won't -put it in, but here it is, ready for any paper that's got feeling enough -to care whether sewing-girls are cheated and starved and killed, or -whether they get what they've earned. I've got work at home now. It -don't matter so much to me; but I'm a committee to attend to this thing, -and I'll find out every fraud in New York that I can. I've got nine -names now,--three of 'em regular fashionables on the west side, and six -of 'em following their example hard as they can on the east; and a -friend of mine has printed, in large letters, 'Beware of' at the head of -a slip, and I add names as fast as I get them, and every girl that comes -in my way I warn against them. Do much good? No. They'll get all the -girls they want, and more; but it's some satisfaction to be able to say -they are cheats, making a living out of the flesh and blood of their -dupes, and I'll say it till I die." - -Here stands the experience of one woman with fearlessness enough to -protest and energy enough to have at last secured a tolerable living. -The report, for such it may be considered, might be made of many more -names than those upon her black list, or found on the books of the -Union. Happily for the worker, they form but a small proportion of the -long list of dressmakers who deal fairly. But the life of the ordinary -hand who has not ability enough to rise is, like that of the great -majority who depend on the needle, whether machine or hand, filled with -hardship, uncertainty, overwork, under-pay. The large establishments -have next to no dull season, but we deal in the present chapter only -with private workers; and often, on the east side especially, where -prices and wages are always at the lowest ebb, the girls who have used -all their strength in overwork during the busy season of spring and fall -must seek employment in cigar factories or in anything that offers in -the intermediate time, the wages giving no margin for savings which -might aid in tiding over such periods. The dressmaker herself is often -a sufferer, conscienceless customers abounding, who pay for the work of -one season only when anxious for that of the next. Often it is mere -carelessness,--the recklessness which seems to make up the method of -many women where money obligations are concerned; but often also they -pass deliberately from one dressmaker to another, knowing that New York -holds enough to provide for the lifetime of the most exacting customer. -There is small redress for these cases, and the dressmaker probably -argues the matter for herself and decides that she has every right, -being cheated, to balance the scale by a little of the same order on her -own account. - -A final form of rascality referred to in a previous chapter is found -here, as in every phase of the clothing trade, whether on small or large -scale. Girls are advertised for "to learn the trade," and the usual army -of applicants appear, those who are selected being told that the first -week or two will be without wages, and only the best workers will be -kept. Each girl is thus on her mettle, and works beyond her strength and -beyond any fair average, to find herself discharged at the end of the -time and replaced by an equally eager and equally credulous substitute. -There are other methods of fraud that will find place in a consideration -of phases of the same work in the great establishments, some -difficulties of the employer being reserved for the same occasion. - - - - -CHAPTER SIXTH. - -MORE METHODS OF PROSPEROUS FIRMS. - - -To do justice to employer as well as employed is the avowed object of -our search, yet as it goes on, and the methods made necessary by -competition become more and more clear, it is evident that back of every -individual case of wrong and oppression lies a deeper wrong and a more -systematized oppression. Master and servant alike are in the same bonds, -and the employer is driven as mercilessly as he drives. He may deny it. -He may even be quite unconscious of his own subjection, or, if he thinks -at all of its extent, may look enviously at the man or the corporation -that has had power to enslave him. The monopolist governs not only the -market but the bodies and souls of all who provide wares for that -market; yet the fascination of such power is so tremendous that to stand -side by side with him is the dream of every young merchant,--the goal on -which his eyes are set from the beginning. Only in like power is any -satisfaction to be found. Any result below this high-water mark can be -counted little else than failure. - -To this end, then, toils the employer of every grade, bringing every -faculty to bear on the lessening of waste, whether in material or time; -the conservation of every force working in line with his purpose. -Naturally, the same effect is produced as that mentioned in a previous -paper. The employees come to represent "so much producing power," and -are driven at full speed or shut off suddenly like the machines of which -they are the necessary but still more or less accidental associates. -Certain formulas are used, evolved apparently from experience, and -carrying with them an assurance of so much grieved but inevitable -conviction that it is difficult to penetrate below the surface and -realize that, while in degree true, they are in greater degree false. In -various establishments, large and small, beginning with one the pay-roll -of which carries 1,462 employees, and ending with one having hardly a -third this number, the business manager made invariably the same -statement: "We make our money from incidentals rather than from any -given department. You are asking particularly about suits. I suppose -you'll think it incredible, but in suits we work at a dead loss. It is -only an accommodation to our customers that makes us keep that -department open. The work should be put out to mean any profit, but we -can't do that with the choicest materials, and so we make it up in other -directions. You would have to go into business yourself to understand -just how we are driven." - -"Suppose you refused to be driven? A firm of your standing must have -matters a good deal in its own hands. Suppose--" - -"Suppose!" The manager threw out his hands in a gesture more full of -disclaimer than any words. "There is no room for supposes in business, -madam. We do what we must. How are we to compete with a factory turning -out suits by steam power? Not that we would compete. There is really no -occasion," he added hastily. "But their methods certainly have an -unpleasant influence, and we are obliged to take them into account -slightly." - -"Then your statement would be, that no matter how expensive the suit -made up, you can make no profit on it?" - -"Absolutely none. It is a concession to a customer's whims. We could buy -the same thing and sell to her at half the price, but she prefers to -select materials and have them put together in our work-room, and we -must humor her. But rents are so enormous that the space for every woman -employed by us in these departments may be said to represent simply so -many cubic feet in good coin, bringing us no return. Our profits are -dwindling with every year." - -"Might not co-operation--" - -Again the manager threw out his hands. - -"Simply another form of robbery. We have investigated the history of -co-operation, and it does not appear to affiliate with our institutions. -The lamentable failure of the Co-operative Dress Association ought to -be the answer to that suggestion. No, madam. There is no profit in -suits, or in any form of made-up clothing for ladies' wear, if it is -done on the premises. You have to turn it over to the wholesale -manufacturer if you want profit." - -Having heard this statement in many forms, and recognizing the fact that -increase in rents as well as in systematized competition might well have -reduced profits, it still appeared incredible that the rates charged -held no surplus for the firm. Little by little it has become possible to -supplement each statement by others of a different order. Nothing is -more difficult than to obtain trustworthy information regarding the -methods of a firm whose standing is such that to have served it is -always a passport to other employment; whose payments are regular, and -where every detail of work-room is beyond criticism. It is no question -of bare-faced robbery as in that of many cited, yet even here the old -story tells itself in different form, and with an element which, in many -a less pretentious establishment, has not yet been found to exist. - -The work done here is piece-work. French cutters and fitters, receiving -from thirty to fifty dollars a week, give that guarantee of style and -elegance which is inherent in everything bearing the stamp of the firm. -Experts run the machines in the sewing-machine room, being paid by the -day at the rate of from six to eight dollars per week in the busy -season. The buttonholes are made by women who do nothing else, and who -are paid by the dozen, earning from five to seven dollars weekly. All -stitched seams are done in the machine-room, and the dress passes from -there to the sewing-room, into the hands of the sewing-girls, who -receive from three to four dollars and a half for each garment. The -latter price is seldom reached; four dollars and a half or five dollars -paying for a dress loaded with trimming, puffs, flounces, etc. - -At this rate there would seem to be a chance for wages a good deal -beyond the average, but it is one of the unwritten laws that no -sewing-girl shall exceed five dollars per week; whether formulated by -superintendent or by firm remains yet to be discovered. The one -unquestionable fact is that if the superintendent of the work-room finds -that any girl is expert enough to make over this amount the price per -garment is docked, to bring her down to the level. They are never -driven. On the contrary, they must wait often, two or three hours at -times, for the arrival of "Madame," who must inspect the work, drape a -skirt, or give some suggestion as to trimming. No entreaty can induce -the superintendent to give out another piece of work which might fill -this vacant time, and the girls dare not state their case to the -employer. No member of the firm enters the work-rooms. Reports are made -by the superintendent of the department, and the firm remains content -with knowing that it has provided every comfort for its employees. -Complaint would insure discharge, and if a girl hints that she cannot -live on five dollars a week the answer has been for the years during -which the present superintendent has held the place, always the same:-- - -"If you haven't a home so that you have no expense of board, it is your -own fault, and I can't be expected to do anything about it." - -There appears to be no question as to the entire "respectability" of the -woman, who would undoubtedly deny the implication contained in her own -words. But there is rivalry between the superintendents as to which -department shall make largest returns in profits, and wages are kept -down to secure that end. There is also no question that a proportion of -those employed are "supported," and merely add this work as a means of -securing a little more pin-money. It is true of but a very few, but of -those few an undeniable fact. It is equally a fact that, in spite of the -managers' assertions, profit can be made and is made from this -department, and that a large percentage of such profit comes directly -from the pocket of the sewing-girl, who, even when she adds -buttonhole-making in the simpler dresses, can never pass beyond a fixed -wage. - -In other large establishments on both sides of the city methods are much -the same, with merely slight variations as to comfort of quarters, time -for lunch, sanitary conditions, etc. But in all alike, the -indispensable, but always very helpless, sewing-girl appears to be one -of the chief sources of profit, and to have small capacity and no -opportunity for improving her condition. Even where the work comes from -the manufactory, and steam has taken the place of foot-power, no machine -has yet been run so automatically that the human hand can be entirely -dispensed with. The "finisher" remains a necessity, and as finisher -sometimes passes slightly beyond the rate obtained when merely -sewing-girl. Only slightly, however. It is a deeply rooted conviction -among these workers that a tacit or even, it may be, formal -understanding has been settled upon by employers in general. - -"I don't know how it is," said one of the most intelligent among the -many I have talked with; "there's never any trouble about getting work. -I've even had them send after me when I had gone somewhere else in hopes -of doing better. I used to earn ten and twelve dollars a week on suits, -children's or ladies', but now if I earn five or sometimes six I do -well. The work goes on with a rush. It's a whole building except the -first floor,--five stories, and suits of every kind. The rooms are all -crowded, and they give out piece-work, but they've managed it so that we -all earn about alike. When the rush of the fall and spring season is -over they do white work and flannel skirts and such things, and a great -many are discharged in the lull. But go where you will, up-town or -down, it doesn't seem to matter how well you can turn off the work or -how long you have been at it. They all say, if we ask for better pay, -'It can't be had as long as there is such competition. We're losing -straight ahead.' I don't understand. We don't any of us understand, -because here is the great rush of work and it must be done. They can't -do without us, and yet they are grinding us down so that I get half -distracted sometimes, wondering where it will end and if things will -ever be better." - -"Would not private sewing be better? There is always a demand for good -seamstresses." - -"I don't know anything about private sewing. You have to cut and plan, -and I never learned that. I like to work on things that are cut by a -cutter and just so, and I can make up my dozen after dozen with not an -eighth of an inch difference in my measurements. I'm an expert, you -know." - -"But if you learned to do private sewing perfectly you could earn a -dollar and a quarter a day and board and have your evening quite free." - -The girl shook her head. "I've had that said to me before, but you know -it's more independent as I am. Maybe things will be better by and by." - -There is no obstinacy like the obstinacy of deep-seated prejudice, and -this exists to a bewildering degree among these workers, who, for some -inscrutable reason, seem filled with the conviction that private employ -of any nature whatever is inevitably a despotism filled with unknown -horrors. There appears to be also a certain _esprit du corps_ that holds -sustaining power. The girl likes to speak of herself as one of such and -such a firm's hands, and to regard this distinction as compensation for -over-hours and under-pay and all known wretchedness encompassing her -trade. The speaker I have quoted was an American girl of twenty-six, had -had three years in public schools, and regarded the city as the only -place in which life could be considered endurable. - -"I shouldn't know what to do in the country if I were there," she said. -"I don't seem to like it somehow. It isn't the company, for mother and -me keep to ourselves a good deal, but somehow we know how to get along -in the city, and the country scares me. I like my work if only I could -get more pay for it." - -"Do you ever think that if all who work in your line joined together and -made common cause you might even things a little; that it might be -easier for all of you?" - -"We wouldn't dare," she answered, aghast. "Why, do you know, there'd be -ten for each one of us that was turned off. Women come there by the -hundred. That's what they say to me in our firm: 'What's the use of -fussing when here are dozens waiting to take your place?' There isn't -any use. They say now that it is the dull season, and they've put our -room on flannel skirts; two tucks and a hem, and a muslin yoke that has -to be gone round four times with the stitching. One day I made ten, but -nine is all one can do without nearly killing themselves, and they pay -us one dollar a dozen for making them. It used to be a dollar and a -half, and that was fair enough. It's the kind of work I like. I -shouldn't be content to do any other; but it's bringing us all down to -starvation point, and I think something ought to be done." - -In a case like this, and it is the type of many hundreds of skilled -workers, who regard their calling with a certain pride, and could by no -possibility be induced to seek other lines of work or other methods of -living, there seems little to be accomplished. They are, however, but a -small portion of the army who wait for some deliverance, and who, if -they had been born to a trifle more common sense, would turn in the one -sole direction from which relief is certain, this relief and the reasons -for and against it having no place at this stage of the investigation. - - - - -CHAPTER SEVENTH. - -NEGATIVE OR POSITIVE GOSPEL. - - -From the fig-leaf down, it would seem as if a portion of the original -curse accompanying it had passed on to each variation or amplification -of first methods, its heaviest weight falling always on the weak -shoulders that, if endurance could make strong, should belong to-day to -a race of giants. Of the ninety and more trades now open to women, -thirty-eight involve some phase of this question of clothing, about -which centre some of the worst wrongs of modern civilization. It is work -that has legitimate place. It must be done by some one, since the -exigencies of this same civilization have abolished old methods and made -home manufactures seem a poor and most unsatisfactory substitute for the -dainty stitching and ornamentation of the cheaper shop-work. It is work -that many women love, and, if living wages could be had, would do -contentedly from year to year. Of their ignorance and blindness, and the -mysterious possession they call pride, and the many stupidities on which -their small lives are founded, there is much to be said, when these -papers have done their first and most essential work of showing -conditions as they are;--as they are, and not as the disciples of -_laissez faire_ would have us to believe they are. - - "It is the business of these philanthropists to raise a hue and - cry; to exaggerate every evil and underrate every good. They are - not to be trusted. Look at our institutions and see what we are - doing for the poor. Study statistics and see how comfortable they - are!" - -This is the word of a recent correspondent of a Podsnapian turn of mind, -who proceeded to present facts and figures bearing out his theory. And -on a Sunday shortly after, he was confirmed in his faith and greatly -strengthened and comforted by words from a popular preacher, long owner -of a popular pulpit, who, standing there as the representative of a -master whose message was to the poor, and who turned to them from the -beginning, as the hearers who alone could know most truly what meaning -the message bore, spoke these words:-- - - "Moreover, all this hue and cry about so much destitution and - misery and the unscrupulous greed of employers is groundless. I am - convinced that more than one half--yes, fully three quarters--of - the pauperism of which you heard so much in the late campaign - exists only in the minds of the Georgeites. The picture drawn of - New York's misery is over-colored, and its inspiration is in the - distorted imaginations of the George fanatics.... The rum-holes are - the cause of all the misery.... I have been watching for - thirty-five years, and in all my investigations among the poor I - never yet found a family borne down by poverty that did not owe its - fall to rum." - -This most extraordinary statement, from a man who in one year alone -could not have listened to even half the appeals for help likely to have -come to him in his position, without discovering that death and disaster -in many forms played, if not the chief part, certainly that next in -order to rum, can be accounted for only on the ground that a hobby -ridden too hard has been known to bear off at the same time both the -common-sense and power of judgment of the rider. Prohibition appears to -him, as to many another, the only solution; the gospel of negation the -only gospel for rich or poor. Since the Church first began to -misinterpret the words of its Founder, since men who built hospitals -first made the poor to fill them, the "thou shalt not" of the priest has -stood in the way of a human development that, if allowed free play, had -long ago made its own code, and found in natural spiritual law the key -to the overcoming of that formulated by men to whom the divine in man -was forever unrecognized and unrecognizable. - -This is no place for the discussion of what, to many good men and women, -seems the only safety for human kind; but to one who studies the -question somewhat at least with the eyes of the physician, it becomes -certain that no "thou shalt not" will ever give birth to either -conscience or love of goodness and purity and decent living, or any -other good that man must know; and that till the Church learns this, her -hold on men and women will lessen, year by year. Every fresh institution -in the miles of asylums and hospitals that cover the islands of the East -River, and stretch on farther and farther with every year, is an added -disgrace, an added count in the indictment against modern civilization. -There are moments when the student of social conditions abhors -Philanthropy; when a disaster that would wipe out at one stroke every -institution the city treasures would seem a gift straight from God, if -only thereby the scales might fall from men's eyes, and they might learn -that hiding foulness in an asylum is not extirpation; that something -deeper and stronger than Philanthropy must work, before men can be -saved. - -It is as student, not as professional philanthropist, that I write; and -the years that have brought experience have brought also a conviction, -sharpened by every fresh series of facts, that no words, no matter what -fire of fervor may lie behind, can make plain the sorrow of the poor. To -ears that will hear, to souls that seek forever some way that may help -in truth and not in name, even to them it loses power at moments. To -souls that sit at ease and leave to "the power that works for -righteousness" the evolution of humanity from its prison of poverty and -ignorance and pain, it is quite useless to speak. They have their -theory, and the present civilization contents them. But for the men and -women who are neither Georgeites merely, nor philanthropists merely, nor -certain that any sect or creed or ism will help, but who know that the -foulest man is still brother, and the wretchedest, weakest woman still -sister, whose shame and sorrow not only bear a poison that taints all -civilization, but are forever our shame and our sorrow till the world is -made clean,--for these men and women I write, not what I fancy, but what -I see and know. - -Most happily for humanity, they are stronger, more numerous, with every -year; but the hardest fact for them remains ever that their battle is a -double one, and that, exhausted as they may be with long conflict -against lowest forms of evil, they must rally to a sharper one against -the army of the Philistines. Strong soul and high endeavor: never since -time began has man more needed them; never was there harder work to do. - -The story of the working-woman in one great city is, with slight -variations in conditions, the story of the working-woman in all; and -when we have once settled conclusively what monopoly or competition has -done and is doing for New York, we know sufficiently well what Boston -and Philadelphia and Chicago and all the host of lesser cities could -easily tell us in detail. With the mass of poor who work chiefly to -obtain money for drink, and who, with their progeny, are filling the -institutions in which we delight, we have absolutely nothing to do. It -is seldom from their ranks that workers are recruited. A small -proportion, rescued by societies or mission schools, may be numbered -among them, but the greater part are a grade above, and while perhaps -wellnigh as ignorant, have an inheritance of better instincts, and could -under any reasonable conditions of living find their fate by no means -intolerable. - -I have chosen to-day, instead of passing on to another form of the -clothing trade, to return to that of underwear, and this because it is -the record most crowded with cases in which the subjects could not enter -household service and have not been reduced to poverty by intemperance. -Nor is the selection made with a view to working up as startling a case -as possible. On the contrary, it has been made almost at random from the -many recorded, any separate mention of which would be impossible in the -space at command. First on the long list comes Catherine E----, an -"expert" in underwear, and living on the top floor of a large, -old-fashioned house in Clinton Place; the lower part stores and offices, -the upper a tenement. She earned three years ago $1.50 a day; at times, -$1.75. The same work now brings her eighty-five cents, and now and then -but seventy-five. The husband was a "boss painter," and they were -comfortable, even prosperous, till the fate of his calling came upon -him, and first the "drop hand," and later blood-poisoning and -heart-disease followed. He is just enough alive to care a little for -the children and to oversee the pitiful household affairs; the oldest -girl, a child of seven, doing the marketing, boiling the kettle, etc., -and this season going to school. They are fair-faced, gentle children, -and this is their mother's story:-- - -"I can run the machine, and I did with every one of them when they were -two weeks old, for I've always been strong. Nothing that happens is bad -enough to kill me, and it's lucky it's so, for it's two years and over -since William there could earn a dollar. He helps me; but you see for -yourself he's half dead and no getting well, because we've nothing to -buy food with, or medicine, or anything that could help him. We were -both brought up here in the city. We don't know anything about the -country, but sometimes I wish we did, and that I could take the children -and live somehow. But I don't know how people live there. I'm certain of -work here, and I'd be afraid to go anywhere else. I'm making babies' -slips now; three tucks and a hem and find your own cotton, and it takes -eighteen hours to make a dozen, and these are seventy-five cents a -dozen. I can buy cotton at eighteen cents a dozen, but we have to take -it from the manufacturer at twenty cents--sometimes twenty-five cents. -Last week I was on corset-covers; I take whatever they send up, for I'm -an old hand, and always sure of work. They were plain corset-covers, and -I got forty cents a dozen without the buttonholes. If I did them it -would be five cents on every dozen, and sometimes I do. That pile in the -corner is extra-size chemises. I get $1.50 a dozen for making them, and -if I cord the bands, fifty cents a dozen for them. I can do seven or -eight a day; but there are no more just now, they say. I work fourteen -hours a day; yes, I've often worked sixteen, for you see there are six -of us, and we must be clothed and fed. William is handy, but, poor soul! -he's only a man, and he's sick past cure, and nobody but me for us all. -God help us! I wouldn't mind if wages were steady, but they cut and cut, -and always some excuse for making them lower, and here am I, that can do -anything, private orders and all, down to eighty-five cents a day. I -could earn more by family sewing, but I can't leave William or the -children, for he's likely to go any minute, the doctors say, if he -over-exerts himself; and suppose it came, and I not here, and the baby -and Willie and all! I've turned all ways. I think and think as I sit -here, and there's no help in God or man. It's all wrong somehow, but we -don't know why nor how, and the only way I can see is just to die. -There's no place for honesty or hard work. You must lie and cheat if you -want standing room. God help us!--if there is a God; but I've my doubts. -Why don't he help, if there is one?" - -Here the average earnings were twenty-five dollars a month, the rent of -the room they occupied seven dollars, leaving eighteen dollars for -food, fire, light, and clothing. - -Another disabled husband, recovering, but for many months unable to -work, was found in a tenement-house in East Eleventh Street. In this -case work and earnings were almost identical with the last, but there -were but two children, and thus less demand for food, etc. For a year -and a half the wife, though also an "expert," had never exceeded -eighty-five cents a day and had sometimes fallen as low as seventy. She -had sometimes gone to the factory instead of working at home, and the -last firm employing her in this way had charged ten cents on the dollar -for the steam used in running the machine which she operated. - -"It didn't pay," the little woman said, with a laugh that ended as a -sob, checked instantly. "I could earn eight dollars a week, but there -was the steam, ten cents on the dollar, and my car fares, for there was -no time to walk,--sixty cents for them,--$1.40, you see, altogether. I -might as well work at home and have the comfort of seeing that the -children were all right. There's plenty of work, it seems. It's wages -that's the trouble, and do you know how they cut them? If I could work -any other way I would, but I like to sew, and I don't know any other -trade. I'm not strong, but somehow I can run the machines, and there's -nothing else. But we're clean discouraged. It isn't living, and we don't -know what way to turn." - -In East Sixth Street, near the Bowery, Mrs. W., a widow still young and -with a nervously energetic face and manner, gave her experience. She had -been forewoman in a factory before her husband's death, having supported -him through his last year of life, working all day and nursing him at -night. In this way her own health broke down, and she was at last taken -to the hospital, where she remained nearly six months, coming out to -find her place filled, but a subordinate one open to her. - -"I had to wait for that," she said, "and I had to learn. I knew a -sewing-machine place where often you could get ruffling for skirts to -do, and I went up there one morning. It was the three tucks and a hem -ruffling, and I did one hundred and forty-two yards from eight in the -morning till half-past four, and they paid me twenty-three cents. 'We -could get it done for that by steam power,' they said, 'so we can't give -more. It's a favor anyway to give it out at all.' That was my first -day's work. The next I went down to my place on Canal Street. They think -a good deal of me there, and they put me on drawers right away; -thirty-five cents a dozen for making them. I can make two dozen a day -sometimes, but fine ones not over a dozen, though they pay fifty cents. -You wonder how they make anything. I've been forewoman, and I know the -prices. Why, even at forty cents a pair they make on them. Twenty-one -yards of cloth at five cents makes a dozen; that's $1.05; and eighteen -yards of edge at four and a half cents, that's eighty-one cents; and the -making thirty-five cents; that's $2.21. Thread and all, they won't cost -over $2.25, and they sell at wholesale at three dollars a dozen and -retail at $4.80. There's profit even when you think a cent couldn't be -made. Take skirts, three yards of cloth in each at six cents. They pay -thirty cents a dozen for tucking, twenty-five cents a dozen for -ruffling, and thirty cents for seaming,--eighty-five cents a dozen for -the entire skirt; and the cloth makes it, at eighteen cents apiece, -$3.01 for the dozen. Those skirts retail at sixty cents apiece, and -wholesale at fifty cents. There's profit on them all, no matter what -they say, for I've figured every penny over and over, down to the tape -and thread. But they swear to you they are ruined by competition, and so -the wages go down and down and down. Leave the city? I don't know how to -live anywhere else. I've never learned. It's something to be sure of -your work, even if it is starvation wages. But there's distress all -around me. I don't see what it means. There's a girl in the room next to -me, with an invalid mother. She does flannel shirts, but before she got -them she nearly starved on underwear. Now she earns a dollar a day, but -she works fourteen hours for it, seven cents an hour. That's nice pay in -a Christian land. Christian! Bah! I used to believe there was -Christianity, but I've given it up, like many another. There's just one -religion left, and that is the worship of money. The Golden Calf is God, -and every man sells his soul for a chance to bow to it. I don't know but -what I would myself. So far I've kept decent; I came of decent folks; -but it's no fault of many a man that I've worked for that I can say so -still. I've had to leave three places because they wouldn't let me -alone, and I stay where I am now because they're quiet, respectable -people, and no outrageousness. But if you know what it all means I wish -you'd tell me, for I'm dazed, and I can't make out the reason of -anything any more." - -In the same house a widow with three children,--the father killed by -falling from a scaffolding,--earns sixty cents a day by making -buttonholes, and above her is another well past sixty, whose trade and -wages are the same. How they live, what they can wear, how they are fed, -on this amount is yet to be told, but every detail waits; and having -gathered them from these and other women in like case, I am not yet -prepared to believe that they live at ease, or that the "hue and cry -about so much destitution and misery, and the unscrupulous greed of -employers, is groundless." - - - - -CHAPTER EIGHTH. - -THE TRUE STORY OF LOTTE BAUER. - - -It was the Prussian War that seemed to settle the question. So far as -Grossvater Bauer himself was concerned, he would still have toiled on -contentedly. To be alive at all on German soil was more than honor or -wealth or any good thing that the emigrant might report as part of his -possession in that America to which all discontented eyes looked -longingly. The reports might all be true; yet why should one for the -sake of better food or more money be banished from the Vaterland and -have only a President, a man of the people, in place of the old Kaiser, -whose very name thrilled the heart, and for whose glory Grossvater Bauer -would have given many sons? He had given them. Peace had come, and -France was paying tribute; and, one by one, the few who had escaped -French bullets came home to the little Prussian village and told their -tales of the siege and of the three who had fallen at Sedan. Grossvater -Bauer sat silent. He had been as silent when they brought the news to -him in the beginning. It was the fortune of war. He had served his own -time, and having served it, accepted as part of his birthright the same -necessity for his sons. They had worked side by side with him on the -great farm where he had been for most of his life head laborer and -almost master; worked contentedly until Annchen, the oldest daughter, -had married a tailor, dissatisfied like all tailors, and set sail for -the strange country where fortune had always open hands for all the -world. He had prospered, and in Annchen's letters, coming at rare -intervals, was always an appeal to them to come over. The boys listened; -doubtfully at first, for the father's faith was strong in them that no -land could ever hold the same good as this land through which the Rhine -flowed to the sea. But as the time came when they must enter the army -there was rebellion. Here and there, in the air it seemed, for no one -could say from whence the new feeling had come, were questions the sound -of which was not to be tolerated by any true Prussian. Why should this -great army live on the toil of the peasant? Why should the maintenance -of these conscripts swallow up every possible saving in the wages and be -the largest item save one in the year's expenses? Why should there be a -standing army at all? - -Hans, when his time came, had learned to ask, but he had not learned to -answer. The splendor of his uniform appeared to be in some sort a reply, -and its tightness may also have had its effect in restricting his mental -operations. For three years the carefully kept accounts of Grossvater -Bauer held the item: "Maintenance of son in army, $121.37." Then Hans -came home and married Lieschen, the little dairy-maid, and in due time -Lotte's blue eyes opened on the world whose mysteries were still not -quite explicable to the heavy father. Wilhelm and Franz had taken their -turn, and in spite of questions settled passively at last into the farm -life. Then came the war,--the war that called for every man with -strength to carry a gun,--and when it was over Lotte was fatherless, and -there were no more sons to bear the name, or to trouble Grossvater -Bauer's mind with further questions. - -Very glorious, but what use if there were no boys left to whom the story -could be told? If he had yielded, if even one had crossed the sea, there -would be something still to live for. But Lieschen had given them no -boys. He thought of it day after day, till the familiar fields grew -hateful and he wished only to escape from the land to which he had paid -a tax too heavy for mortal endurance. There was no one but Lieschen and -her little ones, Lotte first of all and best beloved, and in another -month they had set sail and the old life was over. - -"Work for all, homes for all, plenty for all," Annchen had written how -many times. Yet now, when the Grossvater appeared, and the round-eyed -Lieschen and her tribe of five, Peter shook his head. He had prospered, -it is true. From journeyman tailor he had become master on a small -scale, and packed himself and his men into a shop so tiny that it was -miraculous how elbow-room remained to use the goose. But work for the -Grossvater was quite another thing. He had no trade, and while his -capacity as farmer on scientific methods ought to give him paying -employment in the country, the city held nothing for him. Work for -Lieschen and Lotte was easy. A week or two of apprenticeship would teach -them all that need be known to do the work on cheap coats or pantaloons, -but even for them it was certain that the country would be better. - -It was here that Grossvater Bauer developed unexpected obstinacy. He had -a little money. He was still strong and in good case. Here was this -great city which must have work of some nature, and which, so far from -weighing upon him as Lotte had feared, seemed to have for him a curious -fascination. He haunted the wharves. The smell of the sea and the tarred -ropes of the ships bewitched him, and on the wharves he soon found work, -and loaded and unloaded all day contentedly, with a feeling that this -was after all more like living than anything could have been in the home -fields where only the ghosts of his own remained to have place at his -side. - -It is now only that the story of Lotte begins,--Lotte, who pined for the -great farm and the fields across which the wind swept, and the cows she -had named and cared for. Her mother forgot, or did not care. She had -never loved her work, and liked better to chatter with the other women -in the house, or even to run the machine hour after hour, than to milk, -or feed the cattle, or churn. Lotte hated the machine. Her back ached, -her eyes burned, and her head throbbed after only an hour or two of it. -"Let me take a place," she begged, but the Grossvater shook his head -angrily. This was a free country. There was no need that she should -serve. Let her learn to be contented and thankful that she could earn so -much. For with their simple habits the wages paid in 1881 seemed wealth. -Forty-five cents a pair, three of which she could make in a day, brought -the week's earnings to eight dollars, sometimes to nine dollars, and -Peter prophesied that it might even be ten or twelve dollars. Lieschen -had as much. Down on the wharves the Grossvater earned sometimes -eighteen dollars a week. It was a fortune. At home, in the best of -times, with sons and daughters all at work, his books, which he kept -always with the accuracy of a merchant, showed something under $1,000 a -year as receipts, the expenses hardly varying from the $736.28 which -represented the maintenance of the family during Hans's first year as -soldier. Their food ration at home had been nine and a half cents daily. -Wheat bread had stood for festivals and high days. Black bread, cabbage -soup, beer, cheese, and sausage, with meat on Sundays, had been their -only ambition as to food, and here Grossvater Bauer insisted upon the -same regimen, and frowned as one by one the fashions of the new country -crept in. Peter had been right after all. One must work, it is true, but -no harder and no longer, and the return was double. The little iron -chest which had held the savings at home held them here, and at rare -intervals the Grossvater allowed Lotte to look, and said as he turned -over the shining coins, "Thou wilt have most, my Lottchen. It is for -thee that I put them away." - -"There is enough for a little farm," Lotte said one day. "We could go on -this Long Island and have land, and not be shut all day in these dark -rooms." - -"That is slower," the Grossvater said. "We will go back with much money -when it is earned, and I shall be owner, and thou, Lotte, the mistress, -and Franz maybe will go also." - -Lotte shook her head, though her cheeks were pink. - -"Franz cares only for America," she said. "Come with us some day, -Grossvater, and let us look at the little house he knows. There is land, -two acres, and a barn and a cow, and all for so little. I could be -stronger then." - -"That is folly," the old man said angrily. "It would be but shillings -there, where here it is dollars. Wait and you will see." - -Lotte looked after him wonderingly as he turned away. To save was -becoming his passion. He grudged her even her shoes and the dress she -must have, though no one had so little. Peter revolted openly and came -less and less. Lieschen cried, but still looked at the week's wages as -compensation for many evils, and Lotte worked on, the pink spot fixing -itself on her cheeks, and her blue eyes growing sadder with every week. -Franz, the son of their old neighbor at home, hated this crowded city as -she did, and urged her to take her chances and marry him, even if, as -yet, he was only laborer in the market gardens out on the Island. There -were minutes when Lotte nearly yielded, but the Grossvater seemed to -hold her as with chains. She loved him, and she had always submitted. -Perhaps in time he would yield and learn again to care for the old life -of the country. - -At last a change came, but there was in it no release, only closer -imprisonment. Peter and Annchen had followed a brother to Chicago and -opened a shop double the size of the old one, and they were hardly -settled when Lieschen sickened suddenly and after long illness died. For -many weeks there was no earning. Even the angry Grossvater saw that it -was impossible, and doled out reluctantly the money they had helped him -to save. Lieschen had always fretted him. Lotte was the best gift she -had ever made the Bauer name, and when the funeral was over, he went -home, secretly relieved that the long watch was over; went home to find -that the precious chest, hidden always under piles of bedding in the -closet where he locked his own possessions, had disappeared. There had -been a moving from the story above. Men had gone up and down for an -hour, and no one had noticed specially what was carried. There was no -clew, even after days of searching; and Grossvater Bauer, who had rushed -madly to the police station, haunted it now, with imploring questions, -till told they could do nothing and that he must keep away. He sank then -into the sort of apathy that had held him when the news came from Sedan. -He went to his work, but there was no heart in it, and sat by the fire -when night came, with only an impatient shake of the head when Lotte -tried to comfort him. Till then no one had realized his age, but now his -hair whitened and his broad shoulders bowed. He was an old man; and -Lotte said to herself that his earning days were nearly over, and worked -an hour or two later that the week's gain might be a little larger and -so comfort him. - -She came home one afternoon with her bundle of work. Gretchen, who was -nearly thirteen, had helped her carry it, and had shrunk back frightened -as the foreman put a finger under her chin, and nodded smilingly at the -peach-like face and the great blue eyes. Lotte struck down his hand -passionately. She knew better than Gretchen what the smile meant. The -child should never know if she could help it, and she did not mind the -evil glance that followed her toward the door. There were people -standing at their doors as she went slowly up the stairs, her breath -coming quickly, as now it always did when she climbed them. - -"Poor soul!" one of them said. "She little knows what she's coming to." - -"Was ist los?" Lotte cried as the door opened, and then shrieked aloud, -for the Grossvater lay there on the bed, crushed and disfigured and -almost speechless, but lifting one hand feebly as she flew toward him. - -"A sugar hogshead," somebody said. "It rolled over him when he thought -it was firm, and brought down some barrels with it. He's past helping. -May the saints have a heart for the poor children! He would be brought -here, but what will you do with him?" - -"There'll be naught to do by morning," said another. "Can't you see he's -going?" But by morning no change had come, nor for many mornings. The -wounds and bruises slowly healed, but save for the one hand that moved -toward her, there were no signs of life. The strong body held by -paralysis might linger for years, and Lotte must earn for him and for -all. Even then a living might have been possible, for Gretchen had a -place as cash-girl and earned two dollars a week, and Lisa was promised -one after New Year's. But it was a hard winter. They ate only what they -must, and Lotte's blue eyes looked out from hollow sockets, and she -shivered with cold. Wages had fallen, and they fell faster and faster -till by January her ten and twelve hours' work brought her but six -dollars instead of the eight or nine she had always earned. The foreman -she hated made everything as difficult as possible. Though the bundle -came ready from the cutting room, he had managed more than once to slip -out some essential piece, and thus lessened her week's wages, no price -being paid where a garment was returned unfinished. He had often done -this where girls had refused his advances, yet it was impossible to make -complaint. The great house on Canal Street left these matters entirely -with him, and regarded complaint as mere blackmailing. Lotte tried -others, but wages were even less. She was sure of work here, and pay was -prompt. With the spring things must be better. But long before the -spring Lisa had sickened and died, and Lotte buried her in the Potter's -Field, and hurried home to make up the lost time, and hush the crying -little ones as she could. It did not occur to her that she could write -to Annchen and ask for help, and Franz had quarrelled with her because -she did not put the Grossvater in a hospital and send the children to -some asylum. - -"I will even marry you with the children," he said, "but never with the -Grossvater who hindered and spoiled everything." - -"He has cared for me always, even when he was hard," said Lotte. "I -shall care for him now;" and Franz rushed away and had come no more. - -For a year Lotte's struggle went on. She knew only the one form of work; -and she dared not take time to learn another. - -"If it were not for the Grossvater," she said, "and the children, I -should have a place and work in the country and grow strong, but I -cannot. If I die before them what can they do?" - -There was other trouble. Gretchen's light little head could never guard -her pretty face. She was fourteen now, and tall and fair, fretting -against the narrow life and refusing to stay indoors when evening came. -One day she did not come home; and when Lotte sought her she saw only -the evil smile and triumphant eyes of the foreman who had followed her a -year ago and who laughed in her face as he shut the door. - -"You'd better come in yourself," he called. "You'd fare better if you -did." - -Lotte went home dumb, and sat down at her machine. There was no money in -the house, nor would be till she had taken home this work; but as she -bent over it the blood poured in a stream from her mouth. She tried to -rise, but fell back; and when the screaming children had brought in -neighbors, Lotte's struggle was quite over. When they had buried her in -the Potter's Field by Lisa, they took the bundle of work stained with -her life-blood and carried it back to its owners. - -"She'll need no more," said the old neighbor from the floor above as she -laid it on the counter. "You've cut her down and cut her down, till -there wasn't life left to stand it longer. There's not one of you to -blame, you say, but I that know, know you've fastened her coffin-lid -with nails o' your own makin', an' that sooner or later you'll come face -to face, an' find that red-hot is cowld to the hate that's makin' ready -for you. An' as for him that stands there smilin', if it weren't for the -laws that spare the guilty and send the innocent to their deaths, God -knows it would be the best thing these hands ever did to tear him to -bits. But there's no one to blame. Ye're sure o' that. Wait a while. The -day's comin' when you'll maybe think different; an' may God speed it!" - - - - -CHAPTER NINTH. - -THE EVOLUTION OF A JACKET. - - -"If underwear, whether for men or women, has proven itself a most -excellent medium for starvation; if suits and dresses in general rank -but a grade above; if shirts, whether of cotton or woollen, are a -despair; and in each and all competition has cheapened material and -manufacture and brought labor to the 'life limit' and below, at least it -cannot be so bad with cloaks and jackets. Here are single garments, -often of the most expensive material and put together in the most -finished and perfect manner. Skilled labor is demanded, careful -handling, spotless neatness. Here is one industry which must give not -only a living wage, but a surplus. These women must be on the way to at -least semi-prosperity." - -This was the thought in the days in which one phase after another of the -underwear problem presented itself, each one more bewildering, more -heart-sickening, than the last. Here and there had been the encounter -with one who had always been sure of work and who had never failed to -receive a fair return. But the summary had been inevitably as it stands -recorded,--overwork, under-pay; a fruitless struggle against -overwhelming odds. - -With this thought the quest began anew. The manufacturers of cloaks and -jackets reported "piece-work" as the rule. The great dry-goods -establishments had the same word. Here and there was one where work was -done on the premises, and where skilled hands held the same places year -after year, the wages ranging from six to ten dollars, hardly varying. -But for most of them the same causes stated in the third chapter, "The -Methods of a Prosperous Firm," have operated, and it has been found -expedient to settle upon "piece-work" and let rent be paid and space be -furnished by the workers themselves. - -"They like it better," said the business manager of the great firm -against whom there have never been charges of dishonesty or unkindness -in their treatment of employees. "It would be impossible to do all our -work on the premises. We should want the entire block if we even half -did it. But we know some of the women, and we pay as high as anybody; -perhaps higher. It saves them car fares and going out in all weathers, -and a great many other inconveniences, when they work at home, and I -don't see why there should be any objections made. The amount of it is, -there are too many women. The best thing to be done is to ship them -West. They say they're wanted there, and there is certainly not room -enough for them here. Machinery will soon take their place, anyway. I -have one in mind now that ought to do the work of ten women perfectly, -and require simply a tender and finisher. We shall get the thing down to -a fine point very soon. Hard on the women? Why, no. We always hold on to -first-class workers, and there's nothing much to be done with second and -third class except to use them through the busy season, and let them go -in the dull." - -"Go where?" - -The manager paused and looked reflectively at his well-kept -finger-nails. - -"My dear madam, that's a question I have no time to consider. I dare say -they earn a living somehow. Indeed, I'm told they go into cigar -factories. There's always plenty of work." - -"Plenty of work,"--a form of words so familiar that I looked for it now -from both employer and employed. But for the last was an addition -finding no place on the lips of the first: "Plenty of work? Oh, yes! I -can always get plenty of work. The trouble is to get the wages for it." - -A block or so below, and further west, one great window of a cheaper -establishment held jackets and wraps large and small, marked down for -the holidays, their advertisement in a morning paper having read, -"Jackets from $4 up." Still further over, another window displayed -numbers as great, and a placard at one side announced: "These elegant -jackets from $2.87 up." The cloth might be shoddy, but here was a -garment, fashionably cut, well finished to all appearance, and -unexceptionable in pattern and color. All along the crowded avenue the -story was the same, and as east took the place of west, and Grand Street -and the Bowery and Third Avenue gave in their returns, "These elegant -jackets from $2.35 up" gave the final depth to which cheapness could -descend. - -If this was retail, what could be the wholesale price, and what was -likely to be the story of the worker from whose hands they had come? It -is worth while to follow these jackets as they emerge from the -cutting-room, and in packages holding such number of dozens as has been -agreed upon, pass to the express wagon which distributes them among the -workers, the firm in mind at present, like many others, preferring this -arrangement to any which involves dealing directly with the women. - -First on the list stands the name of a woman a little over fifty years -old, whose husband is a painter and who left Germany eight years ago, -urged to come over by a daughter more adventurous than the rest, who had -married and emigrated at once. Work was plentiful when they arrived, and -the husband found immediate employment at his trade, with wages so high -that the wife had no occasion for any employment outside her own rooms. -The youngest child, a girl of nine, went to school. They lived in -comfortable rooms on a decent street, put money in a savings bank, and -felt that America held more good even than the name had always seemed to -promise. Then came the financial troubles of 1879 and 1881, the gradual -fall of wages, the long seasons when there was no work, and last, the -fate that overtakes the worker in lead, whether painter or in any other -branch,--first painter's colic, and the long train of symptoms preceding -the paralysis which came at last, the stroke a light one, but leaving -the patient with the "drop hand" and all the other complications, -testifying that the working days were over. Strength enough returned for -an odd job now and then, and the little man accepted his fate cheerily, -and congratulated himself that the bank held a little fund and that thus -the lowering wages could be pieced out. The bank settled this question -by almost immediate failure; a long and expensive illness for the wife -followed; and when it ended furniture and small valuables of every sort -had been pawned, and they left the empty rooms for narrower quarters and -sought for work in which all could share. To add to the complication, -the daughter, who had had good sense enough to take a place as child's -nurse, broke her leg, and became, even when able to walk again, too -disabled to return to this work. She could run the machine, and her -mother was an expert buttonhole-maker and had already learned various -forms of work on cloth, both in cheap coats and pantaloons, and in -jackets and cloaks. The jackets seemed to promise most, for in 1884 each -one brought to the maker sixty cents, buttonholes being $1.50 per -hundred, the presser receiving ten cents each and the finisher six -cents, these amounts being deducted from the price paid on each. To save -this amount the husband learned how to press, and though his crippled -hands can barely grasp the iron, and often his wife must help him place -the cramped fingers in position, he stands there smiling and well -content to add this mite to the fund. For a year their home has been in -a deep basement, where, save at noonday, it is impossible to run the -machines without artificial light. A dark room opens from the one in -which they work, itself dark, unventilated save from the hall, and -chosen as abiding place because it represents but four dollars a month -in rent. Two machines run by mother and daughter stand as near the -window as possible, and close by is the press-board and the pale but -optimistic little man, who looks proudly at each seam as he lays it -open. Jackets are everywhere,--piled on chairs and scattered over the -floor,--waiting the various operations necessary before they can at last -be bundled on the ex-painter's back, who smiles to himself as he toils -down to the firm's headquarters, reflecting that he has saved the -expressage another week. What are the returns? Lisa will give them,--the -wife whose English is still uncertain, and whose gentle, anxious eyes -grow eager and bright as she talks, the husband nodding confirmation, or -shaking his head as he sees the tears come suddenly, with a "Not so, not -so, Lisa." - -"I know not if we shall live at all," she says. "For see. We two, my -Gretchen and I, we make but ten for a day. Tree dollar? Yes, but you -must take from it de buttonhole an' finish and much else, and it is so -short--so short that we can work on them. The season, that is it--six -weeks--two months, maybe, and then pantaloon till spring jacket come. -See. It is early that we begin,--seven, maybe,--and all day we shall sew -and sew. We eat no warm essen. On table dere is bread and beer in -pitcher and cheese to-day. We sit not down, for time goes away so. No, -we stand and eat as we must, and sew more and more. Ten jackets to one -day--so Gretchen and me can make ten jackets to one day, but we sit -always--we go not out. It is fourteen hours efery day--yes, many time -sixteen--we work and work. Then we fall on bed and sleep, and when we -wake again it is work always. And I must stop a leetle; not much, but a -leetle, for my back have such pain that I fall on the bed to say, 'Ach -Gott! is it living to work so in this rich, free America?' But he is -sick always, my man, even if he will laugh. He say he must laugh alway -for two because I cannot. For when this work is past it is only -pantaloons, and sew so hard as we may it is five, six pair maybe, for -Gretchen and me all day, and that not always. Many day we do nothing -because they say work is dull, and then goes away all we save before. -But we need not to ask help. So much is good that we work and earn, but -I think I die soon of my pain, and who then helps his fingers so stiff -to press or thinks how he will ache even when he will laugh? It is -because America is best that we come, but how is it best to die because -it is always work and no joy, no hope, never one so small stop?" - -"Never one so small stop." The attic had the same story, and the -white-faced, hollow-eyed woman who tried to smile as she spoke turned -also from the waiting pile of jackets and drew one or two back to the -sheet spread for them on the floor to which they had slipped. A table -and two chairs, a small stove in which burned bare handful of coals, the -two machines, at one of which a girl of twenty still sewed on, and in -the corner a bed, on which lay another girl of the same age, but with -the crimson spot on her cheeks and the shining eyes of advanced -consumption. It had been one of the faces so often seen behind the -counters of the great stores, delicate in features and coloring, with -soft dark eyes and fair masses of hair loose on the pillow. - -"I try to keep her tidy," the mother said, "but she can't bear her hair -up a minute, it's so heavy on her head, an' I've no time to 'tend to it -but the minute I take in the morning. It's jackets now that I'm on. I -thought maybe there'd be less risk in them than cloaks. Cloaks seem to -give 'em so much chance to cheat. I wouldn't work at all at home, I'd be -out doing by the day, for I had a good run of work, but there's Maggie, -and I can't leave her, though God knows she gets little good of me but -the knowing I'm here. I'll tell you what they did to me on cloaks. I -work for S---- & Co., far down on Broadway, and they give out the most -expensive kind of cloaks, and nine dollars a dozen for the making; other -kinds, too, but I'd been on them a good while and knew just how. The pay -was regular, but before I'd had work from them a month I saw they were -bound to make complaints and dock pay whether there was any fault in the -work or not. One and another took their turn, and no help for it; for if -they complained the foreman just said: 'You needn't take any work unless -you like. There are plenty waiting to fill your place.' Poor souls! What -could they do but go on? - -"At last came my turn. He tossed them all over. 'It's poor work,' he -said. 'They're not finished properly. You can't be paid for botching. -There's three dollars, and that's too much.' 'The work is the same it's -always been. There's no botching,' I said; but he held out the three -dollars. 'No,' I said, 'If you won't pay fair I'll go to the Woman's -Protective Union and see what they'll do.' His face was black as -thunder. 'Take your money,' he says, holding out the rest, 'but you may -sing for more work from this establishment,' and he flung the money on -the floor. That didn't trouble me, because I knew I could get work just -below, and I did that same day; twenty cloaks, ten to be made at sixty -cents apiece, and ten at fifty-five cents. I had Angie here to help, and -when they were done I carried them down. This man was a Jew, but there's -small difference. If the Jew knew best how to cheat in the beginning, -the Christian caught up with him long ago. 'The buttons are all on -wrong,' he said. 'I told you to set them an inch further back. We'll -have to alter them every one and charge you for the time.' 'I can take -oath they are on as I was told to put them on,' I said, 'but if they -must be changed I'll change them myself and save the money.' - -"It took long talking to make him agree, but at last he said I could -come next morning but one, and he'd let me alter them as a great favor. -I did come down, but he said they couldn't wait and had made the change, -and he charged me six dollars for what he said was my mistake. It was no -use to complain. He could swear I had done the job wrong, and so I went -home with $5.50 instead of eleven dollars for nearly a fortnight's work. -I changed the place, and so far nobody has docked me; but doing my best, -and Angie working as steady as I do, we can't make more than twenty -cents on a jacket, and it's a short season. When it's over I do coats, -but it's less pay than jackets, and there's living and Maggie's -medicine and the doctor, though he won't take anything. I'd feel better -if he did, but he won't. Angie used to be in a factory, but there's the -baby now, and she doesn't know what way to turn but this. See, he's here -by Maggie." The sick girl lifted a corner of the quilt, and something -stirred,--a baby of seven or eight months whose great eyes looked out -from a face weazened and sharpened, deep experience seeming graven in -every line. - -"He's a wise one," the sick girl said. "He's found it's no use to cry, -and he likes to be by me because it's warm. But he frightens me -sometimes, for he just lies and looks at me as if he knew a million -things and could tell them every one. He's always hungry, and maybe that -makes him wiser. I'm sure I could tell some things that people don't -know." - -The words came with gasps between. It was plain that what she had to -tell must find speedy listener if it were to be heard at all, but for -that day at least the story must wait. Here, as in other places, the -cloakmaker was earning from sixty to seventy cents a day, but even this -was comfort and profusion compared with the facts that waited in a -Fourth Ward street, and in a rookery not yet reached by any sanitary -laws the city may count as in operation. Here and there still remains -one of the old wooden houses with dormer windows, a remnant of the -city's early days and given over to the lowest uses,--a saloon below -and tenements above. In one of these, in a room ten feet square, -low-ceiled, and lighted by but one window whose panes were crusted with -the dirt of a generation, seven women sat at work. Three machines were -the principal furniture. A small stove burned fiercely, the close smell -of red-hot iron hardly dominating the fouler one of sinks and reeking -sewer-gas. Piles of cloaks were on the floor, and the women, white and -wan, with cavernous eyes and hands more akin to a skeleton's than to -flesh and blood, bent over the garments that would pass from this -loathsome place saturated with the invisible filth furnished as air. -They were handsome cloaks, lined with quilted silk or satin, trimmed -with fur or sealskin, and retailing at prices from thirty to -seventy-five dollars. A teapot stood at the back of the stove; some cups -and a loaf of bread, with a lump of streaky butter, were on a small -table absorbing their portion also of filth. An inner room, a mere -closet, dark and even fouler than the outer one, held the bed; a -mattress, black with age, lying on the floor. Here such as might be had -was taken when the sixteen hours of work ended,--sixteen hours of toil -unrelieved by one gleam of hope or cheer; the net result of this -accumulated and ever-accumulating misery being $3.50 a week. Two women, -using their utmost diligence, could finish one cloak per day, receiving -from the "sweater," through whose hands all must come, fifty cents each -for a toil unequalled by any form of labor under the sun, unless it be -that of the haggard wretches dressed in men's clothes, but counted as -female laborers, in Belgian mines. They cannot stop, they dare not stop, -to think of other methods of earning. They have no clothing in which -they could obtain even entrance to an intelligence office. They have no -knowledge that could make them servants of even the meanest order. They -are what is left of untrained, hopelessly ignorant lives, clinging to -these lives with a tenacity hardly higher in intelligence than that of -the limpet on the rock, but turning to one with lustreless eyes and -blank faces, holding only the one question,--"Lord, how long?" They are -one product of nineteenth-century civilization, and these seven are but -types, hundreds of their kind confronting the searcher, who looks on -aghast and who, as the list lengthens and case after case gives in its -unutterably miserable details, turns away in a despair only matched by -that of the worker. Yet they are here, this army of incompetents, -marching through torture to their graves; and till we have found some -method by which torture may lessen, these lives as they vanish pass on -to the army of avengers, and will face us by and by when excuses fall -away and Justice comes face to face with the weak souls that failed in -the flesh to know its nature or its demand. - - - - -CHAPTER TENTH. - -BETWEEN THE RIVERS. - - -"The nearer the river the nearer to hell." - -It was a strong word, and the big chest from which it issued held more -of the same sort,--a tall worker, carpenter apparently, hurrying on with -his box of tools and talking, as he went, with a companion half his -size, but with quite his power of expression, interjecting strange -German oaths as he listened to the story poured out to him. With that -story we have at present nothing to do. But the first words lingered, -and they linger still as the summary of such life as is lived by many -workers on east and west sides alike. - -Were the laws governing a volume of this nature rigidly observed, the -present phase of this investigation could hardly be the point at which -to stop for any detail of how these workers live from day to day. But as -the search has gone on through these hours when Christmas joy is in the -air, when the smallest shop hangs out its Christmas token, and the great -stores are thronged with buyers far into the evening, I think of the -lives in which Christmas has no place, of the women for whom all days -are alike, each one the synonyme of relentless, unending toil; of the -children who have never known a childhood and for whom Christmas is but -a name. For even when mission and refuge have done their utmost, there -is still the army unreached by any effort and in great part unreachable, -no method recorded in any system of the day having power to drag them to -the light and thus make known to us what manner of creature it is that -cowers in shadowy places and has no foothold in the path we call -progress. That their own ignorance holds them in these shadows, bound as -with chains; that even a little more knowledge would break the bonds, in -part at least, has no present bearing on the fact that thousands are -alive among us to whom existence has brought only pain, and that fresh -thousands join this dumb throng of martyrs with every added year. If -they had learned in any degree how to use to the best advantage the -pittance earned, there would be less need of these chapters; yet as I -read the assurances of our political economists, that a wage of four -dollars per week is sufficient, if intelligently used, to supply all the -actual necessities of the worker, the question pushes itself between the -lines: "Why should they be forced to know only necessities; and is this -statement made of any save those too ignorant to define their wants and -needs, too helpless to dare any protestation, even if more knowledge had -come?" - -The professional political economist of the old school, the school to -which all but a handful belong, takes refuge in the census returns as -the one reply to any arraignment of the present. Blind as a bat to any -figures save his own, he answers all complaint with the formula: "In -1860 the property of this country, equally divided, would have given -every man, woman, and child $514 each. In 1870 the share would have been -$624; in 1880, $814. In 1886 returns are not in, but $900 and more would -be the division per capita. What madness to talk of suffering when this -flood of wealth pours through the land. Admitting that the lowest class -suffer, it is chiefly crime, drunkenness, etc., that bring suffering. -The majority are perfectly comfortable." - -Having read this statement in many letters and heard it in interviews as -well, it seems plain that the conviction embodied in both has fastened -itself upon that portion of the public whose thinking is done for them, -and who range themselves by choice with that order who would not be -convinced "even though one rose from the dead." "The majority are -perfectly comfortable." Let us see how comfortable. - -I turn first to the pair, a mother and daughter, a portion of whose -experience found place in the chapter on "More Methods of Prosperous -Firms." Here, as in so many cases, there had been better days, and when -these suddenly ended a period of bewildered helplessness, in which the -widow felt that respectability like hers must know no compromise, and -that any step that would involve her "being talked about" was a step -toward destruction. She must live on a decent street, in a house where -she need not be ashamed to have the relations come, and she did till -brought face to face with the fact that there were no more dollars to -spend upon respectability, and that her quarters must hereafter conform -to her earnings. She had been a dweller in that curious triangle, the -remnant of "Greenwich village," the stronghold still of old New York, -and she went at once to a region as unfamiliar to her conservative feet -as Baxter or Hester, or any other street given over to evil. Far over -toward the North River, in the first floor of a great tenement-house -inhabited by the better class of Irish chiefly, she took two rooms, one -a mere closet where the bed could stand; bestowed in them such furniture -as remained, and at fifty, with no clew left that any friend could -trace, began the fight for bread. - -"It might have been better to go to the country," she said. "But you see -I wasn't used to the country, and then any work I could get to do was -right here. I'd always liked to sew, and so had Emeline, and we found we -could get regular work on children's suits, with skirts and such things -in the dull seasons. It was good pay, and we were comfortable till -prices began to fall. We made fifteen dollars a week sometimes, and -could have got ahead if it hadn't been for a little debt of my husband's -that I wanted to pay, for we'd never owed anybody a penny and I couldn't -let even that debt stand against his name. But when it was paid, somehow -I came down with rheumatic fever, and I've never got back my full -strength yet. And the prices kept going down. Emmy is an expert. I never -knew her make a mistake, but working twelve and fourteen hours a -day,--and it's 'most often fourteen,--the most she has made for more -than a year and a half is eighty-five cents a day, and on that we've -managed. I suppose we couldn't if I ever went out, but I've had no shoes -in two years. I patch the ones I got then with one of my husband's old -coats, and keep along, but we never get ahead enough for me to have -shoes, and Emmy too, and she's the one that has to go out. How we live? -It's all in this little book. It's foolish to put it down, and yet I -always somehow liked to see how the money went, even when I had plenty, -and it's second nature to put down every cent. Take last month. It had -twenty-seven working days: $22.95. Out of that we took first the ten -dollars for rent. I've been here eleven years, and they've raised a -dollar on me twice. That leaves $12.95 for provisions and coal and light -and clothes. 'Tisn't much for two people, is it? You wouldn't think it -could be done, would you? Well, it is, and here's the expense for one -week for what we eat:-- - - Sugar, 23; Tomatoes, 7; Potatoes, 5 $0.35 - Tea, 15; Butter, 30; Bread, 12 0.57 - Coal, 12; Milk, 15; Clams, 10 0.37 - Oil, 15; Paper, 1; Clams, 10; Potatoes, 5 0.31 - Cabbage, 5; Bread, 7; Flour, 15; Rolls, 3 0.30 - ---- - Total $1.90 - -"This week was an expensive one, for I got a pound of butter at once, -but it will last into next week. And we had to have the scissors -sharpened; that was five cents. There would have been five cents for -wood, but you see they're building down the street, and one of the boys -upstairs brought me a basketful of bits. You see there's no meat. We -like it, but we only get a bit for Sundays sometimes. Emmy never wants -much. Running a machine all day seems to take your appetite. But she -likes clams; you see we had them twice, and I happened to read in the -paper a good while ago that you could make soup of the water the cabbage -was boiled in; a quart of the water and a cup of milk and a bit of -butter and some flour to thicken. You wouldn't think it could be good, -but it is, and it goes a good way. The coal ought not to be in with the -food, ought it, unless it stays because I have to use it cooking? We -oughtn't to spend so much on food, but I can't seem to make it less. -Really, when you take out the coal and oil and the paper,--and we do -want to see a paper sometimes,--it's only 1.62 for us both; eighty-one -cents apiece; almost twelve cents a day, but I can't well seem to make -it less. I call it twelve cents a day apiece. For the month that makes -$7.44, and so you see there's $5.51 left. Then there are Emmy's -car-fares when she goes out, for sometimes she works down-town and only -evenings at home. Last month it was sixty cents a week, $2.70 for the -month, and so there was just $2.81 left, and $1.50 of that went for -shoes for Emmy. The month before, my hands weren't so stiff and I helped -her a good deal, so we earned $26.70, and she got two remnants for $1.80 -at Ehrich's and I made her a dress that looks very well. But she's -nothing but patchwork underneath, and I'm the same, only worse. The coal -is the trouble. By the scuttle it costs so much, and I try to get ahead -and have a quarter of a ton at once, for there are places here to keep -coal, but I never can. If it weren't for Emmy's missing me, it would be -better for me to die, for I'm no use, you see, and times get no better, -but worse. But I can't, and we must get along somehow. Lord help us -all!" - -"How could twelve cents' worth of coal do a week's cooking?" - -"It couldn't. It didn't. I've a little oil stove that just boils the -kettle, and tea and bread and butter what we have mostly. A gallon of -oil goes a long way, and I can cook small things over it, too. The -washing takes coal, and you see I must have soap and all that. I don't -see how we could spend less. I've learned to manage even with what we -get now, but there's a woman next door that I know better than anybody -in this house,--for here it always seemed to me best to keep quite to -myself for many reasons, but the chief that I'm always hoping for a -change and a chance for Emmy. But this woman is a nice German woman that -fell on the ice and sprained her ankle last winter, and we saw to her -well as we could till she got better. She won't mind telling how she -manages, but she's in the top of the house. She's a widow, and everybody -dead belonging to her." - -This house was a grade below the last in cleanliness, and children -swarmed on stairs and in hall. Up to the fourth floor back; a -ten-feet-square room, with one window, where, in spite of a defective -sink in the hall, the odor from which seemed to penetrate and saturate -everything, spotless cleanliness was the expression of every inch of -space. - -"Vy not?" the old woman said, when she understood my desire. "I tells -you mine an' more, too, for down de stairs I buy every day for the girl -that is sick and goes out no more. If I quick were as girl I could save -much, but I have sixty-five year. How shall I be quick? I earn -forty-five, fifty cents sometime, but forty-five for day's work when I -go as I can. An' so for week dat is $2.70; I can ten dollars a month, -sometimes twelve dollars, and I pays three dollars for this room. To eat -I will buy tea and our bread,--rye, for dat is stronger as your fine -wheat. Tea is American, but I will not beer any more, since I see how -women drinks it and de kinder, and it not like our beer but more tipsy. -So I makes tea, and de cheese and de wurst is all not so much. It is de -coal that is most. Vat I vill eat, he cost not so more as fifty cent; -sometimes sixty, but I eat not ever all I could, for I must be warm a -little, and dere is light, and to wash, and some shoe. It is bad to be -big as I, for shoe not last. But a loaf of bread, five cents, do all day -and some in next; and cheese a pound is ten, if I have him; and wurst is -fifteen, for sometime he is best, and a pound stay a week if I not -greedy. Tea will be thirty cents, but he is good a month, and sugar a -pound, two pound sometime, but butter no, and milk a cent for Sunday. So -I live, and I beg not. Can I more? I thank the good God only that there -is no more Hans or Lisa or any to be hungry with me. It is good they -go." - -"And you buy for some one else?" - -"Oh ja, but she will die soon and care not. It is de kinder that care. -Two, and one six and one eight and cannot earn. She sew all day on -machine. It is babies' cloaks, so vite and nice. In two days she will -make dree, for see, dere is two linings and cape and cuff is all -scallop, and she must stitch first and then bind and hem. All is hem, -all over inside, so nice, and she make dem so nice. But eight dollars a -dozen is all, and it is a week for nine, and so she get not more as five -dollars because she is sick and must stop. And there is the grandvater -that is old, and de kinder and she and all must live. Rent is $5.50, dat -I know, and I pay for her dis week $1.60 for bread and tea and potatoes -and some milk, and molasses for de kinder on bread, and butter a little, -and milk, but not meat. It is de grandvater eat too much, but how shall -one help it? De rest is clothes for all, but dere is no shoe for de -kinder, and I see not if dere will be shoe. How shall it be?" - -One after another the cases on the west side gave in their testimony. -Save in the first one there were no formal accounts. But a little -thinking brought out the items,--for many baker's bread, tea, sugar, a -little milk, and butter and a bit of meat once or twice a week, the -average cost of food per head for the majority of cases being ninety -cents per week. All coal was bought by the scuttle, a scuttle of medium -size counting as twelve cents' worth, thus much more than doubling the -cost per ton. In the same way, wood by the bundle and oil by the quart -gave the utmost margin of profit to the seller, and the same fact -applied to all provisions sold. In no case save the one first mentioned, -where the mother had learned that cabbage-water can form the basis for a -nourishing and very palatable soup, was there the faintest gleam of -understanding that the same amount of money could furnish a more -varied, more savory, and more nourishing regimen. - -"Beans!" said one indignant soul. "What time have I to think of beans, -or what money to buy coal to cook 'em? What you'd want if you sat over a -machine fourteen hours a day would be tea like lye to put a back-bone in -you. That's why we have tea always in the pot, and it don't make much -odds what's with it. A slice of bread is about all. Once in a while you -get ragin', tearin' hungry. Seems as if you'd swallow teapot or anything -handy to fill up like, but that ain't often--lucky for us!" - -"If you all clubbed together, couldn't one cook for you,--make good soup -and oatmeal and things that are nourishing? You would be stronger then." - -"Stronger for what? More hours at the machine? More grinding your own -flesh and bones into flour for them that's over us? Ma'am, it's easy to -see you mean well, an' I won't say but what you know more than some that -comes around what you're talkin' about. Club we might. I'm not denying -it could be done, if there was time; but who of us has the time even if -she'd the will? I was never much hand for cookin'. We'd our tea an' -bread an' a good bit of fried beef or pork, maybe, when my husband was -alive an' at work. He cared naught for fancy things like beans an' such. -It's the tea that keeps you up, an' as long as I can get that I'll not -bother about beans." - -In the same house an old Swiss woman, who had fallen from her first -estate as lady's maid through one grade and another of service, was -ending her days on a wage of two dollars per week, earned in a suspender -factory, where she sewed on buckles. In her case marriage with a -drinking husband had eaten up both her savings and her earnings, and age -now prevented her taking up household service, which she ranked as most -comfortable and most profitable. But she had been taught while almost a -child to cook, and though her expenditure for food was a little below a -dollar per week, the savory smell from a saucepan on her tiny stove -showed that she had something more nearly like nourishment than her -neighbors. - -"I try sometimes to teach," she said. "I give some of my soup, and they -eat it and say it is good, but they not stop to do so much dat is fuss. -All this in the saucepan is seven cents,--three cents for bones and some -bits the kind butcher trow in, and the rest vegetable and barley. But it -makes me two days. I have lentils, too, yes, and beans, and plenty -things to flavor, and I buy rye bread and coffee to Sunday. Never tea, -oh, no! Tea is so vicket. It make hand shake and head fly all round. -Good soup is best, and more when one can. Vegetable is many and salad, -and when I make more dollar I buy some egg. But not tea; not big loaf of -white bread dot swell and swell inside and ven it is gone leave one all -so empty. I would teach many but they like it not. They want only de -tea; always de tea." - -"De tea" and the sewing-machine are naturally inseparable allies, and so -long as the sewing-women must work fourteen hours daily they will remain -so; the rank fluid retarding digestion and thus proving as friendly an -aid as the "bone" which the half-fed Irish peasant demands in his -potato. For the west side the story was quite plain, but for such -returns as the east side has to offer there is still room for further -detail. - - - - -CHAPTER ELEVENTH. - -UNDER THE BRIDGE AND BEYOND. - - -Between east and west side poverty and its surroundings exists always -this difference, that the west is newer and thus escapes the inherited -miseries that hedge about life in such regions as the Fourth Ward. -There, where old New York once centred, and where Dutch gables and -dormer windows may still be seen, is not only the foulness of the -present, each nationality in the swarming tenements representing a -distinct type of dirt and a distinct method of dealing with it and in -it, but the foulness also of the past, in decay and mould and crumbling -wall and all silent forces of destruction at work here for a generation -and more. Those of us who have watched the evolution of the Fourth Ward -into some show of decency recognize many causes as having worked toward -the same end; yet even when one notes to-day the changes wrought, first -by business, the march of which has wiped out many former landmarks, -setting in their place great warehouses and factories, and then of -philanthropy, which, as in the case of Miss Collins's tenements, has -transformed dens into some semblance of homes, there remains the -conviction that dens are uppermost still. The business man hurrying down -Fulton or Beekman Street, the myriads who pass up and down in the -various east-side car lines, with those other myriads who cross the -great Bridge, have small conception what thousands are packed away in -the great tenements, and the rookeries even more crowded, or what depth -of vileness flaunts itself openly when day is done and the creatures of -shadow come out to the light that for many quarters is the only -sunshine. This ward has had minute and faithful description from one of -the most energetic of workers for better sanitary conditions among the -poor,--Mr. Charles Wingate, whose admirable papers on "Tenement House -Life," published by the "Tribune" in 1884-1885, must be regarded as -authority for the sanitary phases of the question. Little by little -these have bettered, till the death rate has come within normal limits -and the percentage of crime ceased to represent the largest portion of -the inhabitants. Yet here, on this familiar battle-ground, civilization -and something worse than mere barbarism still struggle. For which is the -victory? - -Under the great Bridge, whose piers have taken the place of much that -was foulest in the Fourth Ward, stands a tenement-house so shadowed by -the structure that, save at midday, natural light barely penetrates it. -The inhabitants are of all grades and all nationalities. The men are -chiefly 'longshoremen, working intermittently on the wharves, varying -this occupation by long seasons of drinking, during which every pawnable -article vanishes, to be gradually redeemed or altogether lost, according -to the energy with which work is resumed. The women scrub offices, -peddle fruit or small office necessities, take in washing, share, many -of them, in the drinking bouts, and are, as a whole, content with -brutishness, only vaguely conscious of a wretchedness that, so long as -it is intermittent, is no spur to reform of methods. The same roof -covers many who yield to none of these temptations, but are working -patiently; some of them widows with children that must be fed; a few -solitary, but banding with neighbors in cloak or pantaloon making, or -the many forms of slop-work in the hands of sweaters. Sunshine has no -place in these rooms which no enforced laws have made decent, and where -occasional individual effort has power against the unspeakable filth -ruling in tangible and intangible forms, sink and sewer and closet -uniting in a common and all-pervading stench. The chance visitor has -sometimes to rush to the outer air, deadly sick and faint at even a -breath of this noisomeness. The most determined one feels inclined to -burn every garment worn during such quest, and wonders if Abana or -Pharpar or even Jordan itself could carry healing and cleansing in their -floods. - -The dark halls have other uses than as receptacles for refuse or filth. -Hiding behind doors or in corners, or, grown bolder, seeking no -concealment, children hardly more than babies teach one another such new -facts of foulness as may so far have chanced to escape them,--baby -voices reciting a ritual of oaths and obscenity learned in this Inferno, -which, could it have place by Dante's, might be better known to a -cultured generation. Only a Zola could describe deliberately what any -eye may see, but any minute detail of which would excite an outburst of -popular indignation. Yet I am by no means certain that such detail has -not far more right to space than much that fills our morning papers, and -that the plain bald statement of facts, shorn of all flights of fancy or -play of facetiousness, might not rouse the public to some sense of what -lies below the surface of this fair-seeming civilization of to-day. Not -alone in the shadow of the great pier, but wherever men and women must -herd like brutes, these things exist and shape the little lives that -missions do not, and as yet cannot, reach, and that we prefer to deal -with later, when actual violation of laws has placed them in the hands -of the State. Work as she may, the woman who must find home for herself -and children in such surroundings is powerless to protect them from the -all-pervading foulness. They may escape a portion of the actual -degradation. They can never escape a knowledge the possibility of which -is unknown to what we call barbarism, but part and parcel of the daily -life of civilization. - -Granted instantly that only the lowest order of worker must submit to -such conditions, yet we have seen that this lowest order is legion; that -its numbers increase with every day; and that no Board of Health or of -Sanitary Inspectors has yet been able to alter, save here and there, the -facts that are a portion of the tenement-house system. - -It is chiefly with the house under the Bridge that we deal at present. -Its upper rooms hold many workers whose testimony has helped to make -plain how the east side lives. Little by little, as the blocks of -granite swung into place and the pier grew, the sunshine vanished, its -warmth and light replaced by the electric glow, cold and hard and -blinding. The day's work has ceased to be the day's work, and the women -who cannot afford the gas or oil that must burn if they work in the -daytime, sleep while day lasts, and when night comes and the electric -light penetrates every corner of the shadowy rooms, turn to the toil by -which their bread is won. Never was deeper satire upon the civilization -of which we boast. Natural law, natural living, abolished once for all, -and this light that blinds but holds no cheer shining upon the mass of -weary humanity who have forgotten what sunshine may mean and who know no -joy that life was meant to hold! - -In one of these rooms, clean, if cleanliness were possible where walls -and ceiling and every plank and beam reek with the foulness from sewer -and closet, three women were at work on overalls. Two machines were -placed directly under the windows to obtain every ray of light. The -room, ten by twelve feet, with a small one half the size opening from -it, held a small stove, the inevitable teapot steaming at the back; a -table with cups and saucers and a loaf of bread still uncut; and a small -dresser in one corner, in which a few dishes were ranged. A sickly -geranium grew in an old tomato-can, but save for this the room held no -faintest attempt at adornment of any sort. In many of them the cheapest -colored prints are pinned up, and in one, one side had been decorated -with all the trademarks peeled from the goods on which the family -worked. Here there was no time for even such attempts at betterment. The -machines rushed on as we talked, with only a momentary pause as interest -deepened, and one woman nodded confirmation to the statement of another. - -"We've clubbed, so's to get ahead a little," said the finisher, whose -fingers flew as she made buttonholes in the waistband and flap of the -overalls. "We were each in a room by ourselves, but after the fever, -when the children died and I hadn't but two left, it seemed as if we'd -be more sensible to all go in together and see if we couldn't be more -comfortable. We'd have left anyway, and tried for a better place, but -for one thing,--we hadn't time to move; and for another, queer as it -seems, you get used to even the worst places and feel as if you couldn't -change. We'll have to, if the landlord doesn't do something about the -closets. It's no good telling the agent, and I don't know as anybody in -the house knows just who the landlord is. Anyway, the smell's enough to -kill you sometimes, and it's a burning disgrace that human beings have -to live in such a pig-pen. It's cheap rent. We pay five dollars a month -for this place. When I came here it was from a neck-tie place over on -Allen Street, that's moved now, and my husband was mate on a tug and -earned well. But he took to drink and sold off everything I'd brought -with me, and at last he was hurt in a fight round the corner, and died -in hospital of gangrene. Mary's husband there was a bricklayer and had -big wages, but he drank them fast as he made them, and he was ugly when -the drink was in, which mine wasn't. But there's hardly one in this -house, man or woman, that don't take a drop to keep off the fever; and -even I, that hate the sight or smell of it, I wake up in the morning -with an awful kind o' goneness that seems as if a taste might help it. -The tea stops that, though. Tea's the best friend we've got. We'd never -stand it if it wasn't for tea." - -"Are overalls steady pay through the year?" - -"There's nothing that's steady, so far as I can find out, but want and -misery. Just now overalls are up; the Lord only knows why, for you never -can tell what'll be up and what down. They're up, and we're making a -dollar a dozen on these. I have done a dozen a day, but it's generally -ten. There's the long seams, and the two pockets, and the buckle strap -and the waistband and three buttonholes, and the stays and the -finishing. They're heavy machines too, and take the backbone right out -of you before night comes. But you sleep like the dead, that's one -comfort. It would be more if you didn't have to wake more than they do. -When the overall rush is over, it'll be back to pants again. That's my -trade. I learned it regular after I was married, when I saw Tim wasn't -going to be any dependence. There were the children then, and I thought -I'd send 'em to school and keep things decent maybe. I know all about -pants, the best and the worst, but it's mostly worse these days. First -the German women piled in ready to do your work for half your rates, and -when they'd got well started, in comes the Italians and cuts under, till -it's a wonder anybody keeps soul and body together." - -"We don't," one of the women said, turning suddenly. "I got rid o' my -soul long ago, such as 'twas. Who's got time to think about souls, -grinding away here fourteen hours a day to turn out contract goods? -'Tain't souls that count. It's bodies that can be driven, an' half -starved an' driven still, till they drop in their tracks. I'm driving -now to pay a doctor's bill for my three that went with the fever. Before -that I was driving to put food into their mouths. I never owed a cent to -no man. I've been honest and paid as I went and done a good turn when I -could. If I'd chosen the other thing while I'd a pretty face of my own -I'd a had ease and comfort and a quick death. Such life as this isn't -living." - -The machine whirled on as she ended, to make up the time lost in her -outburst. The finisher shook her head as she looked at her, then poured -a cup of tea and put it silently on the edge of the table where it could -be reached. - -"She's right enough," she said, "but there's no use thinking about it. I -try to sometimes, just to see if there's any way out, but there isn't. -I've even said I'd take a place; but I don't know anything about -housework, and who'd take one looking as I do, and not a rag that's fit -to be put on? I cover up in an old waterproof when I go for work. They -wouldn't give it to me if they saw my dress in rags below, and me with -no time to mend it. But we're doing better than some. We've had meat -twice this week, and we've kept warm. It's the coal that eats up your -money,--twelve cents a scuttle, and no place to keep more if ever we got -ahead enough to get more at a time. It's lucky that tea's so staying. -Give me plenty of tea, and the most I want generally besides is bread -and a scrape of butter. It's all figured out. It's long since I've -spent more than seventy-five cents a week for what I must eat. I've no -time to cook even if I had anything, so it's lucky I haven't. I suppose -there'd be plenty to eat if you once made up your mind to take a place." - -It was the second machine that stopped now, and the haggard woman -running it faced about suddenly. "Do you know what come to my girl," she -said,--"my girl that I brought up decent and that was a good girl? I -said to myself a trade was no good, for it was more an' more starvation -wages, and I'd put her with folks that would be good to her, even if the -other girls did look down on her for going into service. She was -fifteen, and a still little thing with soft eyes and a pretty, soft way, -if she did come of a drinking father. I put her with a lady that wanted -a waitress and said she'd train her well. She'd three boarders in the -house, and all gentlemen to look at, and one that's in a bank to-day he -did his best to turn her head on the sly, and when he found he couldn't, -one Sunday when she was alone in the house and none to hear or help, he -had his will. The mistress turned her off the hour she heard it, for -Nettie went to her when she come home. 'Such things don't happen unless -the girl is to blame,' she said. 'Never show your shameless face here -again.' Nettie came home to me kind of dazed, and she stayed dazed till -she went to a hospital and a baby was born dead, and she dead herself a -week after. An' it isn't one time alone or my girl alone. It's over an' -over an' over that that thing happens. There's plenty that go to the bad -of their own free will, but I know plenty more with the same chance that -doesn't, an' there's many a mother that's been in service herself that -says, 'Whatever the mistress may know about it she can't tell, but the -devil's let loose when the master or a son maybe is around, an' they'll -not have their girls standing what they had to stand and then turned off -without a character because they were found with the master talkin' to -'em.' It's women that keeps women down an' is hard on 'em. I'll take my -chances with any Jew you'll bring along before I'll put myself in the -power of women that calls themselves ladies an' hasn't as much heart as -a broomstick; an' I'll warn every girl to keep to herself an' learn a -trade, an' not run the risk she'll run if she goes out to service, -letting alone the way you're looked down on." - -There was no time for discussion. The machines must go on; but, as -usual, much more than the fact of which I was in search had come to me, -and, strangely enough, in this house and in others of its kind inspected -one after another, much the same story was told. In the "improved -tenements" close at hand, where comparative comfort reigned, more than -one woman gave willingly the detail of the weekly expenditure for food, -and added, as if the underlying question had made itself felt, "It's -betther to be a little short even an' your own misthress," with other -words that have their place elsewhere. On the upper floor of one of -these houses a pantaloon-maker sat in a fireless room, finishing the -last of a dozen which when taken back would give her money for coal and -food. She had been ill for three days, and on the bed,--an old mattress -on a dry-goods box in the corner. "Even that's more than I had for a -good while," she said. "I'd pawned everything before my husband died, -except the machine. I couldn't make but twenty-two cents a pair on the -pants, an' as long as he could hold up he did the pressing. With him to -help a little I made three a day. That seems little, but there was so -many pieces to each pair,--side and watch and pistol pockets, buckle -strap, waistband, and bottom facings and lap; six buttonholes and nine -buttons. We lived--I don't just know how we lived. He was going in -consumption an' very set about it. 'I'll have no medicine an' no doctor -to make me hang an' drag along,' he says. 'I've got to go, an' I know it, -an' I'll do it as fast as I can.' He was Scotch, an' took his porridge -to the last, but I came to loathe the sight of it. He could live on six -cents a day. I couldn't. 'I'm the kind for your contractors,' he'd say. -'It's a glorious country, and the rich'll be richer yet when there's -more like me.' He didn't mind what he said, an' when a Bible-reader put -her head in one day, 'Come in,' he says. 'My wife's working for a -Christian contractor at sixty-six cents a day, an' I'm what's left of -another Christian's dealings with me, keeping me as a packer in a damp -basement and no fire. Come in and let's see what more Christianity has -to say about it.' He scared her, his eyes was so shiny an' he most gone -then. But there's many a one that doesn't go over fifty cents a week for -what she'll eat. God help them that's starving us all by bits, if there -is a God, but I'm doubting it, else why don't things get better, an' not -always worse an' worse?" - -For east and west, however conditions might differ, the final word was -the same, and it stands as the summary of the life that is lived from -day to day by these workers,--"never better, always worse and worse." - - - - -CHAPTER TWELFTH. - -ONE OF THE FUR-SEWERS. - - -"I suppose if you'd been born on the top of a hill in New Hampshire with -the stones so thick ten miles of stone wall couldn't have used 'em up, -an' the steeple of the Methodist meetin'-house the only thing in sight, -maybe you'd have wanted to get where you could see folks too. It was -just Elkins luck to have another hill between us an' the village so't I -couldn't see beyond the woods between. If there was a contrary side to -anything it always fell to father, an' I'm some like him, though I've -got mother's way of never knowing when I'm knocked flat, though I've had -times enough to find out. But I said straight through, 'If ever there's -a chance of getting to New York I'll take it. Boston won't do. I want -the biggest an' the stirringest thing there is in the United States,' -an' Leander felt just as I did. - -"Leander lived down the valley a way, an' such cobble-stones as hadn't -come to our share had come to his. He'd laid wall from the time he was -ten years old, and he'd sat on the hay an' cried for pure lonesomeness. -His folks weren't any hands to talk, an' he couldn't even have the -satisfaction of meetin' Sundays, because they was Seventh Day Baptists, -an' so set a minister couldn't get near 'em. An' Leander was -conscientious an' thought he ought to stay by. I didn't. I told him from -the time we went to school together that I was bound to get to New York, -an' that sort of fired him up, an' we've talked hours to time about what -it was like, an' what we'd do if we ever got there. My folks were set -against the notion, an' so were his, but he went after a while, with -some man that was up in the summer an' that gave him a place in a store. -I couldn't go on account of father's dying sudden an' mother's holdin' -on harder'n ever to me, but she was took within the year, an' there I -was, free enough, an' not a soul in the world but Leander's folks that -seemed to think much one way or another how I was likely to come out. - -"There was a mortgage on the farm, an' Dr. Grayson foreclosed an' had -most of the money for his bill; an' when things were all settled I had -forty dollars in cash an' the old furniture. Leander's folks was -dreadful short for things, for they'd been burned out once, an' so I -just turned everything over to them but some small things I could pack -in my trunk, mother's teaspoons an' such, an' walked down to the village -an' took the stage for Portsmouth. I wasn't scared. I didn't care nor -think how I looked. It was heaven to think I was on the way to folks an' -the things folks do. I ain't given to crying, but that day I sat back in -the stage an' cried just for joy to think I was going to have something -different. - -"All this time I hadn't thought much what I'd do. Forty dollars seemed a -big lot, enough for weeks ahead. I'd done most everything about a house, -an' I could make everything I wore. I had only to look at a pattern an' -I could go home an cut out one like it. The dress I had on was cheap -stuff, but when I looked at other folks's I saw it wasn't so much out o' -the way. So I said, most likely some dressmaker would take me, an' I'd -try my luck that way. This was before I got to Boston, an' I went round -there all the afternoon before it was time to take the train, for the -conductor told me just what to do, an' I hadn't a mite of trouble. I -never do going to a strange place. I was half a mind to stay in Boston -when I saw the Common an' the crowds of folks. I sat still there an' -just looked at 'em, an' cried again for joy to think I'd got where there -were so many. 'But there'll be more in New York,' I said, 'an' there'll -be sure to be plenty ready to do a good turn.' I could have hugged 'em -all. I didn't think then the time would ever come that I'd hate the -sight of faces an' wish myself on top of the hill in the cobble-stones, -but it did, an' it does now sometimes. - -"I went on board the boat that night sort of crazy. I'd gone an' got -some sandwiches an' things at a place the conductor told me, an' I sat -on the deck in the moonlight an' ate my supper. I'd been too happy to -eat before, an' I was so happy then I could hardly keep still. There was -a girl not far off, a kind of nice-looking girl, an' she watched me, an' -at last she began to talk. In half an hour I knew all about her an' she -about me. She was a Rhode Island girl an' had worked in a mill near -Providence, an' gone to New York at last an' learned fur-sewing. She -said it was a good trade, an' she made ten an' twelve dollars a week -while the season lasted an' never less than five. This seemed a mint of -money, an' when she said one of their old hands had died, an' she could -take me right in as her friend an' teach me herself, I felt as if my -fortune was made. - -"Well, I went with her next day. She had a room in Spring Street, near -Hudson,--an old-fashioned house that belonged to two maiden sisters, an' -I went in with her the first night, an' afterward for a while had the -hall bedroom. It didn't take me long to learn. It was a Jew place an' -there were thirty girls, but he treated us well. For my part I've fared -just as well with Jews as ever I did with Christians, an' sometimes -better. I'd taken to Hattie so that I couldn't bear to think of leaving -her, an' so I let my dressmaking plan go. But I'll tell you what I found -out in time. These skins are all dressed with arsenic. The dealers say -there's nothing poisonous about them, but of course they lie. Every pelt -has more or less in it, an' the girls show it just as the -artificial-flower girls show it. Your eyelids get red an' the lids all -puffy, an' you're white as chalk. The dealers say the red eyes come from -the flying hairs. Perhaps they do, but the lids don't, an' every -fur-sewer is poisoned a little with every prick of her needle. What the -flying hair does is just to get into your throat an' nose and -everywhere, an' tickle till you cough all the time, an' a girl with weak -lungs hasn't a chance. The air is full of fur, an' then the work-room is -kept tight shut for fear of moths getting in. The work is easy enough. -It's just an everlasting patchwork, for you're always sewing together -little bits, hundreds of them, that you have to match. You sew over an' -over with linen thread, an' you're always piecing out an' altering -shapes. It's nothing to sew up a thing when you've once got it pieced -together. If it's beaver, all the long hairs must be picked out, an' -it's the same with sealskin. We made up everything; sable an' Siberian -squirrel, bear, fox, marten, mink, otter, an' all the rest. There were -some girls very slow in learning that only got a dollar a week, an' in -the end four, but most of them can average about five. I was seventeen -when I began, an' in a year I had caught all the knack there is to it, -an' was an expert, certain of ten dollars in the season an' about six in -between. It's generally piece-work, with five or six months when you can -earn ten or twelve dollars even, an' the rest of the time five or six -dollars. In the busiest times there'd be fifty girls perhaps, but this -was only for two or three months, an' then they discharged them. 'Tisn't -a trade I'd ever let a girl take up if I could help it; I suppose -somebody's got to do it, but there ought to be higher wages for those -that do. - -"This went on five years. I won't take time telling about Leander, but -he'd got to be a clerk at Ridley's an' had eight hundred dollars a year, -an' we'd been engaged for two years, an' just waiting to see if he -wouldn't get another rise. I knew we could manage on that. Leander was -more ambitious than me. He said we ought to live in a showy -boarding-house an' make our money tell that way, but I told him I was -used to the Spring Street house, an' we could have a whole floor an' be -snug as could be an' Hattie board with us. He gave in, an' it's well he -did; for we hadn't been married six months before he had a hemorrhage -an' just went into quick consumption. I'd kept right on with my trade, -but I was pulled down myself an' my eyelids so swollen sometimes I could -hardly see out of 'em. But I got a sewing-machine from money I'd saved, -an' I took in work from a place on Canal Street,--a good one, too, that -always paid fair. The trouble was my eyes. I'd used 'em up, an' they got -so I couldn't see the needle nor sew straight, an' had to give up the -sewing, an' then I didn't know which way to turn, for there was Leander. -The old folks were up there still, wrastling with the stones, but poorer -every year, an' I couldn't get him up there. Leander was patient as a -saint, but he fretted over me an' how I was to get along. - -"'You're not to worry,' says I. 'There's more ways than one of earning, -an' if my eyes is bad, I've got two hands an' know how to use 'em. I'll -take a place an' do housework if I can't do nothing else.' - -"You'd never believe how the thought o' that weighed on him. He'd wake -me up in the night to say, 'Now, Almiry, jest give up that thought an' -promise me you'll try something else. I think I'd turn in my grave if I -had to know you was slavin' in anybody's kitchen.' - -"'What's the odds?' I said. 'You have to be under orders whatever you -do. I think it won't be a bad change from the shop.' - -"He took on so, though, that to quiet him I promised him I wouldn't do -it unless I had to, an' 'twasn't long after that that he died. Between -the doctor's bill--an' he was a kind man, I will say, an' didn't charge -a tenth of what he had ought to--an' the funeral an' all, I was cleaned -out of everything. I'd had to pawn a month before he died, an' was just -stripped. Sewing was no good. My eyes went back on me like everything -else, an' in a fortnight I knew there wasn't anything for it but -getting a place. I left such things as I had in charge of the old ladies -an' answered an advertisement for 'a capable girl willing to work.' - -"Well, it was a handsome house an' elegant things in the parlors an' -bedrooms, but my heart sunk when she took me into the kitchen. The last -girl had gone off in a rage an' left everything, an' there was grease -and dirt from floor to ceiling. It was a deep basement, with one window -an' a door opening right into the area with glass set in it, an' iron -bars to both; but dirty to that degree you couldn't see three feet -beyond; cockroaches walking round at their ease an' water-bugs so thick -you didn't know where to lay anything. - -"'You'll have things quite your own way,' the lady said, 'for I never -come into the kitchen. Bridget attends to upstairs, but you attend to -fires and the meals and washing and ironing, and I expect punctuality -and everything well done.' - -"'At least it sounds independent,' I thought, and I made up my mind to -try it, for the wages were fifteen dollars a month, an' that with board -seemed doing well. Bridget came down presently. She was seventeen an' a -pretty girl rather, but she looked fit to drop, an' fell down in a -chair. - -"'It's the bell,' she said. 'The comin' an' goin' here niver ceases, an' -whin 'tisn't the front door it's her own bell, an' she'll jingle it or -holler up the tube in the middle o' the night if she takes a notion.' - -"I wouldn't ask questions, for I thought I should find out soon enough, -so I said I'd like to go up to my room a minute. - -"'It's our room you'll mane,' she said. 'There's but the one, an' it's -hard enough for two to be slapin' on a bed that's barely the width o' -one.' - -"My heart sank then, for I'd always had a place that was comfortable all -my life, but it sunk deeper when I went up there. A hall bedroom, with a -single bed an' a small table, with a washbowl an' small pitcher, one -chair an' some nails in the door for hanging things; that was all except -a torn shade at the window. I looked at the bed. The two ragged -comfortables were foul with long use. I thought of my nice bed down at -Spring Street, my own good sheets an' blankets an' all, an' I began to -cry. - -"'You don't look as if you was used to the likes of it,' Bridget said. -'There's another room the same as this but betther. Why not ax for it?' - -"I started down the stairs an' came right upon Mrs. Melrose, who smiled -as if she thought I had been enjoying myself. - -"'I'm perfectly willing to try an' do your work as well as I know how,' -I said, 'but I must have a place to myself an' clean things in it.' - -"'Highty-tighty!' says she. 'What impudence is this? You'll take what I -give you and be thankful to get it. Plenty as good as you have slept in -that room and never complained.' - -"'Then it's time some one did,' I said. 'I don't ask anything but -decency, an' if you can't give it I must try elsewhere.' - -"'Then you'd better set about it at once,' she says, an' with that I bid -her good-afternoon an' walked out. I had another number in my pocket, -an' I went straight there; an' this time I had sense enough to ask to -see my room. It was bare enough, but clean. There were only three in the -family, an' it was a little house on Perry Street. There I stayed two -years. They were strange years. The folks were set in their ways an' -they had some money. But every day of that time the lady cut off herself -from the meat what she thought I ought to have, an' ordered me to put -away the rest. She allowed no dessert except on Sunday, an' she kept -cake and preserves locked in an upstairs closet. I wouldn't have minded -that. What I did mind was that from the time I entered the house till I -left it there was never a word for me beyond an order, any more than if -I hadn't been a human being. She couldn't find fault. I was born clean, -an' that house shone from top to bottom; but a dog would have got far -more kindness than they gave me. At last I said I'd try a place where -there were children an' maybe they'd like me. Mrs. Smith was dumb with -surprise when I told her I must leave. 'Leave!' she says. 'We're -perfectly satisfied. You're a very good girl, Almira.' 'It's the first -time you've ever told me so,' I says, 'an' I think a change is best all -round.' She urged, but I was set, an' I went from there when the month -was up. - -"Well, my eyes stayed bad for sewing, an' I must keep on at housework. -I've been in seven places in six years. I could have stayed in every -one, an' about every one I could tell you things that make it plain -enough why a self-respecting girl would rather try something else. I -don't talk or think nonsense about wanting to be one of the family. I -don't. I'd much rather keep to myself. But out of these seven places -there was just one in which the mistress seemed to think I was a human -being with something in me the same as in her. I've been underfed an' -worked half to death in two of the houses. The mistress expected just so -much, an' if it failed she stormed an' went on an' said I was a shirk -an' good for nothing an' all that. There was only one of them that had a -decently comfortable room or that thought to give me a chance at a book -or paper now an' then. As long as I had a trade I was certain of my -evenings an' my Sundays. Now I'm never certain of anything. I'm not a -shirk. I'm quick an' smart, an' I know I turn off work. In ten hours I -earn more than I ever get. But I begin my day at six an' in summer at -five, an' it's never done before ten an' sometimes later. This place I'm -in now seems to have some kind of fairness about it, an' Mrs. Henshaw -said yesterday, 'You can't tell the comfort it is to me, Almira, to have -some one in the house I can trust. I hope you will be comfortable an' -happy enough to stay with us.' 'I'll stay till you tell me to go,' I -says, an' I meant it. My little room looks like home an' is warm and -comfortable. My kitchen is bright an' light, an' she's told me always to -use the dining-room in the evenings for myself an' for friends. She -tries to give me fair hours. If there were more like her there'd be more -willing for such work, but she's the first one I've heard of that tries -to be just. That's something that women don't know much about. When they -do there'll be better times all round." - -Here stands the record of a woman who has become invaluable to the -family she serves, but whose experiences before this harbor was reached -include every form of oppression and even privation. Many more of the -same nature are recorded and are arranging themselves under heads, the -whole forming an unexpected and formidable arraignment of household -service in its present phases. This arraignment bides its time, but -while it waits it might be well for the enthusiastic prescribers of -household service as the easy and delightful solution of the -working-woman's problem to ask how far it would be their own choice if -reduced to want, and what justice for both sides is included in their -personal theory of the matter. - - - - -CHAPTER THIRTEENTH. - -SOME DIFFICULTIES OF AN EMPLOYER WHO EXPERIMENTED. - - -The business face in the great cities is assimilating to such degree -that all men are brothers in a sense and to an extent unrealized by -themselves. Competition has deepened lines, till one type of the -employer in his first estate, while the struggle is still active and -success uncertain, loses not only youth and freshness, but with them, -too often, any token of owning a soul capable of looking beyond the -muckrake by which money is drawn in. If he acquires calm and -graciousness, it is the calmness of subtlety and the graciousness of the -determined schemer, who, finding every man's hand practically against -him, arranges his own life on the same basis, and wages war against the -small dealer or manufacturer below and the monopolist above, his one -passionate desire being to escape from the ranks of the first and find -his name enrolled among the last. He retains a number of negative -virtues. He is, as a rule, "an excellent provider" where his own family -is concerned, and he is kind beyond those limits if he has time for it. -He would not deliberately harm man or woman who serves him; but to keep -even with his competitors--if possible, to get beyond them--demands and -exhausts every energy, leaving none to spare for other purposes. Such -knowledge as comes from perpetual contact with the grasping, scheming -side of humanity is his in full. As the fortune grows and ease becomes -certain, a well-fed, well-groomed look replaces the eager sharpness of -the early days. He may at this stage turn to horses as the most positive -source of happiness. He is likely also, with or without this tendency, -to acquire a taste for art, measuring its value by what it costs, and to -plan for himself a house representing the utmost that money can buy. But -the house and its treasures is, after all, but a mausoleum, and the -grave it covers holds the man that might have been. Life in its larger -meanings has remained a sealed book, and the gold counted as chief good -becomes at last an impenetrable barrier between him and any knowledge of -what might have been his portion. He is content, and remains content -till the end, and that new beginning in which the starved soul comes to -the first consciousness of its own most desperate and pitiful poverty. - -This for one type, and a type more and more common with every year of -the system in which competition is king. But here and there one finds -another,--that of the man whose conscience remains sensitive, no matter -what familiarity with legalized knavery may come, and who ponders the -question of what he owes to those by whose aid his fortune is made. Nor -is he the employer who evades the real issue by a series of what he -calls benefactions, and who organizes colonies for his work-people, in -which may be found all the charm of the feudal system, and an underlying -despotism no less feudal. He would gladly make his workers copartners -with him were intelligence enough developed among them to admit such -action, and he experiments faithfully and patiently. - -It is such an employer whose own words best give the story he has to -tell. It is not an American that speaks but a German Jew,--a title often -the synonyme for depths of trickery, but more often than is known -meaning its opposite in all points. Keen sagacity rules, it is true, but -there is also a large and tender nature, sorrowing with the sorrow of -humanity and seeking anxiously some means by which that sorrow may -lessen. A small manufacturer, fighting his way against monopoly, he is -determinately honest in every thread put into his goods, in every method -of his trade; his face shrewd yet gentle and wise,--a face that child or -woman would trust, and the business man be certain he could impose upon -until some sudden turn brought out the shrewdness and the calm assurance -of absolute knowledge in his own lines. For thirty years and more his -work has held its own, and he has made for himself a place in the trade -that no crisis can affect. His own view of the situation is distinctly -serious, but even for him there was a flickering smile as he recalled -some passages of the experience given here in part. His English limps -slightly at moments of excitement, but his mastery of its shades of -meaning never, and this is his version of the present relation between -employer and employed:-- - -"In me always are two peoples,--one that loves work well, that must work -ever to be happy, and one that will think and think ever how hard is -life even with work that is good and with much to love. In village or in -city, for I begin with one and go on to the other, in both alike it is -work always that is too much; long hours when strength is gone and there -should be rest, but when always man and woman, yes, and child, must go -on for the little more that more hours will earn. For myself, I want not -what is called pleasure when the day is done. A book that is good -contents me, and is friend and amusement in one. But as I love a book -more and more, and desire more time to be with them, I begin first to -think, why should so many hours be given to work that there are none in -which men have strength or time or desire left for something that is -better? These things I think much of before I come to America. I have my -trade from my father and his father. We are silk-weavers from the time -silk is known, but for myself I have chosen ribbons, and it is ribbons I -make all my life and that my son will make after me. - -"At first when I come here to this country that for years I hope for and -must not reach, because I am held to my father who is old--at first I -have little money and can only be with another who manufactures. But -already some dishonesties have come in. The colors are not firm; the -silk has weight given it, so that more body than is belongs to the -ribbon; there is an inch, maybe, cut short in the lengths. There is -every way to make the most and give the least. And there is something -that from the days I begin to think at all, seems ever injustice and -wrong. Side by side it may be, men and women work together at the looms; -but for the women it is half, sometimes two thirds, what the man can -earn, yet the work the same. This is something to alter when time is -ripe, and at last it is come. I have saved as I earned and added to what -I bring with me, and I buy for myself the plant of a man who retires, -and get me a place, this place where I am, and that changes little. His -workers come with me,--a few, for I begin with four looms only, but soon -have seven, and so go on. At first I think only of how I may shorten -hours and make time for them to rest and learn what they will, but a -good friend of mine from the beginning is doctor, and as I go on he -speaks to me much of things I should do for health. And then I think of -them and study, and I see that there is much I have never learned and -that they must learn also with me. - -"There is one thing that Americans will, more than all peoples of the -earth. They will have a place so hot that breath is nowhere, and women -more even than men. I begin to think how I shall keep them warm yet give -them to breathe. The place is old, as you see. No builder thought ever -of air in such time as this was built, and if they think to-day, it is -chiefly wrong, for in all places I go one breathes the breath of all -others, never true air of heaven. At first I open windows from top and -before they come; but when they see it they cry out and say, 'O Mr. -B----! You want to freeze us!' 'Not so,' I say; 'I would make you -healthy.' And they say, 'We're healthy enough. We don't want draughts.' -It is true. There were draughts, and I begin to think how this shall be -changed, and try many things, and all of them they pull down or push out -or stop up tight, whichever way will most surely abolish air. At last I -bring up my doctor who is wise and can explain better than I, and I say -that work may stop and all listen and learn. They listen but they laugh, -all but one, and say, 'How funny! What is use of so much fuss?' - -"While I do these things which I keep on and will not stop, finding best -at last a shaft and a hole above, that they cannot pull out or reach to -fill, I think of other things. They eat at noon what they bring,--pie -that is dear to Americans, and small cakes, many of them; but good bread -that has nourishment, or good drink like soup or coffee, no. They stand -many hours and: faint and weak. So I say there must be good coffee for -them, and I tell them, 'Girls, I will buy a big urn and there shall be -coffee and milk, and for two cents you have a big cup so sweet as you -will, or if you like better it shall be hot soup.' Above in a room was a -a Swiss that knew good soup, and that would, if I pay her a little, buy -all that is wanted and a make a big pot, so that each could have a bowl. -This also I would have them pay for, three cents a bowl, and they like -this best, and it is done for three weeks. They go up there and have -full bowls, and I have a long table made before a bench where sometimes -they rest, with oil-cloth, and here they eat and are comfortable. Three -days soup, three days hot coffee; and I have place where the men can -heat what is in their pails. - -"But they do such things! They pick out vegetable from soup and throw on -the floor. They pour away coffee. They make the place like a home of -animals, and when I say, 'Girls, I want much that all should be clean -and nice, and that you never waste,' they laugh again. I find that -difficult, for what answer can be made to laugh? I go on, but they break -bowls and insult the Swiss that make the soup, and tell her I buy -dog-meat and such, and she say she will no more of it. Then I call the -doctor again and say to them, 'Listen while he tells you what is good to -eat.' They were not all so fools, but the fool ones rule, and they -listen, but they laugh always. That is American,--to laugh and think -everything joke and not see what earnest must be for any good living. I -give the coffee-urn to the best girl and tell her to have care of it, -but do what we will they think somehow I am silly, and like best to eat -their pie and then talk. A small pie at the corner is three cents, and -they buy one, sometimes two, and it is sweet and fills and they are -content. It is only men that think that will change a habit. I find for -the worker always till thought begins they are conservative, and an -experiment, a change, is distress to them. So I say, 'Let them do they -will. Air is here and that they cannot stop, but for food I will do no -more.' - -"These all were small things, and as I went on I said, as in the -beginning, that for those who did the same work must be the same wage. -My men had always ten dollars, and sometimes twelve or fifteen dollars a -week; but the best woman had ten dollars, and she had worked five years -and knew all. It is a law--unwritten, but still a law--that women shall -not have what men earn; and when I say one is good as another, the -brother of the woman I make equal with him said first this should never -be; and when I said 'It must,' he talk to all the men at noon, and -before the looms begin again they come and tell me that if I do so they -will work no more. I talk to them all: 'This is a country where men -boast always that woman has much honor, but I see not that she has more -justice than where there is less honor. Shame on men that will let women -work all the hours and as well as they,--yes, many times better,--and -then threaten strike if they are paid the same!' But it was all no good. -For that time I must yield, because I had much work that was promised; -but I said: 'For now I do as you will. With January, that is but a month -away, it shall be as I will.' - -"Well, I have tried. Many changes have been made, much time lost, much -money. I call them to my house in the evening. I talk with them and try -to teach them justice, and some are willing, but most not. New men spoil -my work, and I lose much profit and take the old ones again. But this, -too, is a small thing. My own mind goes on and I see that they should -share with me. I read of co-operation, and to me it is truer than -profit-sharing. I have seventy men and girls at work. I say they must -understand this business. I will try to teach them. Two evenings a week -I meet them all and talk and listen to them. One or two feel it plain. -For most they say, 'Old B---- wants to get a rise out of us somehow.' At -last I see that they are too foolish to understand co-operation, but it -may be they will let profit-sharing be a step. Over and over, many times -over and over, I tell it all, and in the end some agree, and for a year -it does well. But the next year was bad. Silk was high, and my ribbons -honest ribbons and profit small; and when they saw how small, they cried -that they were cheated and that I kept all for myself. I read them the -books. I said, 'Here, you may see with your eyes. This year I make not -enough to live if there were not other years in which I saved. I am -almost failed. The business might stop, but I will go on for our names' -sake.' 'All a dodge,' they said. No words were plain enough to make them -know. They even called me cheat and liar, there in the place where I had -tried to work for them. - -"And so I share profits no more. I give large wage. I never cut down, do -the market what it will. But some things are plain. It is not alone -oppression and greed from above that do what you call grind the worker. -No, I am not alone. There are men like me with a wish for humanity and -wiser than I, and alike they are not heard when they speak; alike their -wish is naught and their effort vain. It is ignorance that rules. There -is no knowledge, no understanding. In my trade and in all trades I know -it is the same. A man will not believe a fact, and he will believe that -to cheat is all one over him can wish. Even my workers that care for me, -a few of them, they laugh no more to my face, but they say: 'Oh, he has -notions, that man! He will never get very rich, he has so many notions.' -They listen and they think a little. One man said yesterday: 'If this -had been put in my head when I was a growing lad it would have -straightened many a thing. Why ain't we taught?' And I said to him: -'Jacob, teachers are not taught. There is only one here, one there, that -thinks what only it is well to learn,--justice for all the world. I who -would do justice am made to wait, but the sin is with you, not with me.' - -"So to-day I wait for such time as wisdom may come. My son is one with -me in this. He has a plan and soon he will try, and where I failed his -more knowledge may do better. But for me, I think that this generation -must suffer much, and in pain and want learn, it may be, what is life. -To-day it knows not and cares not, save a few. How shall the many be -made to know?" - - - - -CHAPTER FOURTEENTH. - -THE WIDOW MALONEY'S BOARDERS. - - -To the old New-Yorker taking his pensive way through streets where only -imagination can supply the old landmarks, long ago vanished, there is a -conviction that he knows the city foot by foot as it has crept -northward; and he repudiates the thought that its growth has ended such -possibility, and that many a dark corner is as remote from his or any -knowledge save that of its occupants as if in Caffre-land. The newest -New-Yorker has small interest in anything but the west side and the -space down-town occupied by his store or office. - -And so it chances that in spite of occasional series of descriptive -articles, in spite of an elaborately written local history and -unnumbered novels whose background is the city life and thought, there -is little real knowledge, and, save among charitable workers, the -police, and adventurous newspaper men, no thought of what life may be -lived not a stone's-throw from the great artery of New York, Broadway. - -On one point there can be no doubt. Not Africa in its most pestilential -and savage form holds surer disease or more determined barbarians than -nest together under many a roof within hearing of the rush and roar of -the busy streets where men come and go, eager for no knowledge or wisdom -under the sun save the knowledge that will make them better bargainers. -There comes even a certain impatient distrust of those who persist in -unsavory researches and more unsavory details of the results. If there -is not distrust; if the easy-going kindliness that is a portion of the -American temperament is stirred, it is but for the moment; and when the -hand that sought the pocket or the check-book instinctively has -presented its gift, interest is over. A fresh sensation wipes out all -trace of the transient feeling, and though it may again be roused by -judicious effort, how rarely is it that more than the automatic movement -toward the pocket results! What might come if for even one hour the -impatient giver walked through the dark passages, stood in the foul, -dimly lighted rooms and saw what manner of creature New York nourishes -in her slums, giving to every child in freest measure that training in -all foulness that eye or ear or mind can take in that will fit it in -time for the habitation in prison or reformatory on which money is never -spared,--who shall say? They are filled by free choice, these nests of -all evil. The men and women who herd in them know nothing better; -indeed, may have known something even worse. They are Polish Jews, -Bohemians, the lowest order of Italians, content with unending work, -the smallest wage, and an order of food that the American, no matter how -low he may be brought, can never stomach. Yet they assimilate in one -point, being as bent upon getting on as the most determined American, -and accepting to this end conditions that seem more those of an Inferno -than anything the upper world has known. It is among these people, -chiefly Polish Jews and Bohemians, with the inevitable commixture of -Irish, that one finds the worst forms of child-labor; children that in -happy homes are still counted babies here in these dens beginning at -four or five to sew on buttons or pick out threads. - -It is not of child-labor and the outrages involved in it that I speak -to-day, save indirectly, as it forms part of the mass of evil making up -the present industrial system and to be encountered at every turn by the -most superficial investigation. It is rather of certain specific -conditions, found at many points in tenement-house life, but never in -such accumulated degree of vileness at any point save one outside the -Fourth Ward. And if the reader, like various recent correspondents, is -disposed to believe that I am merely "making up a case," using a little -experience and a great deal of imagination, I refer him or her to the -forty-third annual report of the New York Association for the -Improvement of the Condition of the Poor. There, in detail to a degree -impossible here, will be found the official report of the inspector -appointed to examine the conditions of life in the building known as -"The Big Flat," in Mulberry Street. There are smaller houses that are -worse in construction and condition, but there is none controlled by one -management where so many are gathered under one roof. The first floor -has rooms for fourteen families, the remaining five for sixteen each; -and the census of 1880 gave the number of inhabitants as 478, a -sufficient number to make up the population of the average village. The -formal inspection and the report upon it were made in September, 1886, -and the report is now accessible to all who desire information on these -phases of city life. It is Mrs. Maloney herself whose methods best give -us the heart of the matter, and who, having several callings, is the -owner of an experience which appears to hold as much surprise for -herself as for the hearer. - -"Shure I foind things that interestin' that I'm in no haste to be -through wid 'em, an' on for me taste o' purgatory, not hintin' that -there mightn't be more 'n a taste," Mrs. Maloney said, on a day in which -she unfolded to me her views of life in general, her small gray eyes -twinkling, her arms akimbo on her mighty hips, and her cap-border -flapping about a face weather-beaten and high-colored to a degree not -warranted even by her present profession as apple-woman. Whether -whiskey or stale beer is more responsible is unknown. It is only -certain that, having submitted with the utmost cheerfulness to the -perennial beatings of a husband only half her size, she found -consolation in a glass now and then with a sympathizing neighbor and at -last in a daily resort to the same friend. There had been a gradual -descent from prosperity. Dennis, if small, was wiry and phenomenally -strong, and earned steady wages as porter during their first years in -the country. But the children, as they grew, went to the bad entirely, -living on the earnings of the mother, who washed and scrubbed and -slaved, with a heart always full of excuses for the hulking brutes, who -came naturally at last to the ends that might have been foretold. Their -education had been in the Fourth Ward; they were champion bullies and -ruffians of whom the ward still boasts, Mrs. Maloney herself acquiring a -certain distinction as the mother of the hardest cases yet sent up from -Cherry Street. But if she had no power to save her own, life became -easier for whomsoever she elected to guard. Wretched children crept -under her wing to escape the beating awaiting them when they had failed -to bring home the amount demanded of them. Women, beaten and turned out -into the night, fled to her for comfort, and the girl who had lost her -place, or to whom worse misfortune had come, told her story to the -big-hearted sinner, who nodded and cried and said, "It's the Widdy -Maloney that'll see you're not put upon more. Hold on an' be aisy, -honey, an' all'll come out the way you'd be havin' it, an' why not?" - -It was at this stage of experience that Mrs. Maloney decided to remove -to the Big Flat. The last raid of Dennis, the youngest and only boy not -housed at the expense of the State, had reduced her belongings to their -lowest terms, and she took possession of her new quarters, accompanied -only by a rickety table, three chairs, a bed with two old straw -mattresses, and some quilts too ragged to give any token of their -original characteristics, a stove which owned but one leg,--the rest -being supplied by bricks,--and such dishes and other small furniture as -could be carried in a basket. But there went with her a girl kicked out -by the last man who had temporarily called her his mistress,--a mere -child still, who at ten had begun work in a bag-factory passing through -various grades of slightly higher employment, till seduced by the -floor-walker of the store that it had been her highest ambition to -reach. Almost as much her fault as his undoubtedly, her silly head -holding but one desire, that for fine clothes and never to work any -more, but a woman's heart waking in her when the baby came, and -prompting her to harder work and better life than she had ever known. -There was no chance of either with the baby, and when at last she farmed -out the encumbrance to an old couple in a back building who made this -their business, and took a place again in the store, it was relief as -well as sorrow that came when the wretched little life was over. But the -descent had been a swift one. When what she had called life was quite -over, and she sat dumb and despairing in the doorway to which she had -been thrust, thinking of the river as the last refuge left, the widow -had pushed her before her up the stairs and said,-- - -"Poor sowl, if there's none to look out for ye, then who but me should -do it?" - -This was the companion who lay by her side under the ragged quilts, life -still refusing to give place to death, though every paroxysm of coughing -shortened the conflict. - -"She's that patient that the saints themselves--all glory to their -blessed names!--couldn't be more so; but I'd not know how to manage if -it wasn't for the foot-warmer I call her; that's Angela there, wid eyes -that go through you an' the life beaten out of her by the man that -called himself her father, an' wasn't at all, at all. It's she that does -the kaping of the house, an' sleeps across the foot, an' it's mine they -think the two av 'em, else they'd never a let me in, the rules bein', -'no lodgers.' It's not lodgers they are. It's me boarders, full fledged, -an' who's a better right than me, though I'd not be sayin' so to the -housekeeper that'd need forty pair o' eyes to her two to see what's -goin' on under her nose." - -The "foot-warmer's" office had ceased for one of them before the month -ended, and when the Potter's Field had received the pine coffin followed -only by the two watchers, the widow made haste to bring in another -candidate for the same position; one upon whom she had kept her eye for -a month, certain that worse trouble was on the way than loss of work. - -"There was the look on her that manes but the one thing," she said -afterward. "There's thim that sthand everything an' niver a word, an' -there's thim that turns disperate. She was a disperate wan." - -Never had a "disperate wan" better reason. A factory girl almost from -babyhood, her apprenticeship having begun at seven, she had left the -mill at fourteen, a tall girl older than her years in look and -experience. New York was her Mecca, and to New York she came, with a -week's wages in her pocket on which to live till work should be found, -and neither relative nor friend save a girl who had preceded her by a -few months and was now at work in a fringe and gimp factory, earning -seven dollars a week and promising the same to the child after a few -weeks' training. But seven years in a cotton-mill, if they had given -quickness in one direction, had blunted all power in others. The fingers -were unskilful and clumsy and her mind too wandering and inattentive to -master details, and the place was quickly lost. She entered her name as -candidate for the first vacancy in a Grand Street store, and in the mean -time went into a coffee and spice mill and became coffee-picker at -three dollars a week. This lasted a month or two, but even here there -was dissatisfaction with lack of thoroughness, and she was presently -discharged. The vacancy had come, and she went at once into the store, -her delicate face and pretty eyes commending her to the manager, who -lost no time in telling her what impression she could produce if she -were better dressed. Weak, irresponsible, hopelessly careless, and past -any power to undo these conditions, there was some instinct in the -untaught life that put her instantly on the defensive. - -"I'm not good for much," she said, "but I'm too good for that. There's -nothing you could promise would get you your will and there won't be." - -Naturally, as the siege declared itself a hopeless one, the manager -found it necessary to fill her place by some more competent hand. There -was an interval of waiting in which she pawned almost the last article -of clothing remaining that could be dispensed with, and then went into a -bakery, where the hours were from seven A. M. to ten P. M., sometimes -later. She was awkward at making change, but her gentle manners -attracted customers, and the baker himself soon cast a favorable eye -upon her, and speedily made the same proposition that had driven her -from her last employment. The baker's wife knew the symptoms, and on the -same day discharged the girl. - -"I don't say it's your fault," she said, "but he's started about you, -and it's for your own good I tell you to go. The best thing for you is -to go back to your mother, or else take a place with some nice woman -that'll keep an eye to you. You'll always be run after. I know your -kind, that no man looks at without wanting to fool with 'em. You take my -advice and go into a place." - -The chance came that night. The mistress of a cheap boarding-house in -East Broadway, her patrons chiefly young clerks from Grand and Division -Street stores, offered her home and eight dollars a month, and Lizzie, -who by this time was frightened and discouraged, accepted on the -instant. She was well accustomed to long hours, and she had never minded -standing as many of the girls did, her apprenticeship in the mill having -made it comparatively easy. - -But the drudgery undergone here was beyond anything her life had ever -known. Her day began at five and it never ended before eleven. She slept -on an old mattress on the kitchen floor, and as her strength failed from -the incessant labor, lost all power of protest and accepted each new -demand as something against which there could be no revolt. There was -abundance of coarse food and thus much advantage, but she had no -knowledge that taught her how to make work easier, nor had her mistress -any thought of training her. She was a dish-washing machine chiefly, and -broke and chipped even the rough ware that formed the table furniture, -till the exasperated mistress threatened to turn her off if another -piece were destroyed. It was a case of hopeless inaptitude; and when in -early spring she sickened, and the physician grudgingly called in -declared it a case of typhus brought on by the conditions in which she -had lived, she was sent at once to the hospital and left to such fate as -might come. - -A clean bed, rest, and attendance seemed a heaven to the girl when -consciousness came back, and she shrank from any thought of going out -again to the fight for existence. - -"I don't know what the matter is," she said to the doctor as she mended, -"but somehow I ain't fit to make a living. I shall have to go back to -the mill, but I said I never would do that." - -"You shall go to some training-school and be taught," said the doctor, -who had stood looking at her speculatively yet pitifully. - -"Ah, but I couldn't learn. Somehow things don't stick to me. I'm not fit -to earn a living." - -"You're of the same stuff as a good many thousand of your kind," the -doctor said under his breath, and turned away with a sigh. - -Lizzie went out convalescent, but still weak and uncertain, and took -refuge with one of the bakery girls who had half of a dark bedroom in a -tenement house near the Big Flat. She looked for work. She answered -advertisements, and at last began upon the simplest form of necktie, and -in her slow, bungling fashion began to earn again. But she had no -strength. She sat at the window and looked over to the Big Flat and -watched the swarm that came and went; five hundred people in it, they -told her, and half of them drunk at once. It was certain that there were -always men lying drunk in the hallways in the midst of ashes and filth -that accumulated there almost unchecked. The saloon below was always -full; the stale beer dives all along the street full also, above all, at -night, when the flaunting street-walkers came out, and fiddles squeaked, -and cheap pianos rattled, and songs and shouts were over-topped at -moments by the shrieks of beaten women or the oaths and cries of a -sudden fight. Slowly it was coming to the girl that this was all the -life New York had for her; that if she failed to meet the demand -employer after employer had made upon her, she would die in this hole, -where neither joy nor hope had any place. Her clothes were in rags. She -went hungry and cold, and had grown too stupefied with trouble to plan -anything better. At last it was plain to her that death must be best. -She said to herself that the river could never tell, and that there -would be rest and no more cold or hunger, and it was to the river that -she went at night as the Widow Maloney rose before her and said,-- - -"You'll come home wid me, me dear, an' no wurruds about it." - -Lizzie looked at her stupidly. "You'd better not stop me," she said. -"I'm no good. I can't earn my living anywhere any more. I don't know -how. I'd better be out of the way." - -"Shure you'll be enough out o' the way whin you're in the top o' the Big -Flat," said Mrs. Maloney. "An' once there we'll see." - -Lizzie followed her without a word, but when the stairs were climbed and -she sunk panting and ghastly on one of the three chairs, it was quite -plain to the widow that more work had begun. That it will very soon end -is also quite plain to whoever dares the terrors of the Big Flat, and -climbs to the wretched room, which in spite of dirt and foulness within -and without is a truer sanctuary than many a better place. The army of -incompetents will very shortly be the less by one, but more recruits are -in training and New York guarantees an unending supply. - -"Shure if there's naught they know how to do," says the widow, "why -should one be lookin' to have thim do what they can't. It's one thing -I've come to, what with seein' the goings on all me life, but chiefly in -the Big Flat, that if childers be not made to learn, whither they like -it or not, somethin' that'll keep hands an' head from mischief, there's -shmall use in laws an' less in muddlin' about 'em when they're most done -with livin' at all, at all. But that's a thing that's beyond me or the -likes o' me, an' I'm only wonderin' a thrifle like an' puttin' the -question to meself a bit, 'What would you be doin', Widdy Maloney, if -the doin' risted on you an' no other?'" - - - - -CHAPTER FIFTEENTH. - -AMONG THE SHOP-GIRLS. - - -Why this army of women, many thousand strong, is standing behind -counters, over-worked and underpaid, the average duration of life among -them as a class lessening every year, is a question with which we can at -present deal only indirectly. It is sufficient to state that the retail -stores of wellnigh every order, though chiefly the dry-goods retail -trade, have found their quickness and aptness to learn, the honesty and -general faithfulness of women, and their cheapness essentials in their -work; and that this combination of qualities--cheapness dominating -all--has given them permanent place in the modern system of trade. A -tour among many of the larger establishments confirmed the statement -made by employers in smaller ones, the summary being given in the words -of a manager of one of the largest retail houses to be found in the -United States. - -"We don't want men," he said. "We wouldn't have them even if they came -at the same price. Of course cheapness has something to do with it, and -will have, but for my part give me a woman to deal with every time. Now -there's an illustration over at that hat-counter. We were short of hands -to-day, and I had to send for three girls that had applied for places, -but were green--didn't know the business. It didn't take them ten -minutes to get the hang of doing things, and there they are, and you'd -never know which was old and which was new hand. Of course they don't -know all about qualities and so on, but the head of the department looks -out for that. No, give me women every time. I've been a manager thirteen -years, and we never had but four dishonest girls, and we've had to -discharge over forty boys in the same time. Boys smoke and lose at -cards, and do a hundred things that women don't, and they get worse -instead of better. I go in for women." - -"How good is their chance of promotion?" - -"We never lose sight of a woman that shows any business capacity, but of -course that's only as a rule in heads of departments. A saleswoman gets -about the same right along. Two thirds of the girls here are -public-school girls and live at home. You see that makes things pretty -easy, for the family pool their earnings and they dress well and live -well. We don't take from the poorer class at all. These girls earn from -four and a half to eight dollars a week. A few get ten dollars, and -they're not likely to do better than that. Forty dollars a month is a -fortune to a woman. A man must have his little fling, you know. Women -manage better." - -"If they are really worth so much to you, why can't you give better pay? -What chance has a girl to save anything, unless she lives at home?" - -"We give as high pay as anybody, and we don't give more because for -every girl here there are a dozen waiting to take her place. As to -saving, she doesn't want to save. There isn't a girl here that doesn't -expect to marry before long, and she puts what she makes on her back, -because a fellow naturally goes for the best-looking and the -best-dressed girl. That's the woman question as I've figured it out, and -you'll find it the same everywhere." - -Practically he was right, for the report, though varying slightly, -summed up as substantially the same. Descending a grade, it was found -that even in the second and third rate stores the system of fines for -any damage soon taught the girls carefulness, and that while a few were -discharged for hopeless incompetency, the majority served faithfully and -well. - -"I dare say they're put upon," said the manager of one of the cheaper -establishments. "They're sassy enough, a good many of them, and some of -the better ones suffer for their goings-on. But they ain't a bad -set--not half; and these women that come in complaining that they ain't -well-treated, nine times out of ten it's their own airs that brought it -on. It's a shop-girl's interest to behave herself and satisfy customers, -and she's more apt to do it than not, according to my experience." - -"They'd drive a man clean out of his mind," said another. "The tricks of -girls are beyond telling. If it wasn't for fines there wouldn't one in -twenty be here on time, and the same way with a dozen other things. But -they learn quick, and they turn in anywhere where they're wanted. They -make the best kind of clerks, after all." - -"Do you give them extra pay for over-hours during the busy season?" - -"Not much! We keep them on, most of them, right through the dull one. -Why shouldn't they balance things for us when the busy time comes? Turn -about's fair play." - -A girl who had been sent into the office for some purpose shook her head -slightly as she heard the words, and it was this girl who, a day or two -later, gave her view of the situation. The talk went on in the pretty, -home-like parlors of a small "Home" on the west side, where rules are -few and the atmosphere of the place so cheery that while it is intended -only for those out of work, it is constantly besieged with requests to -enlarge its borders and make room for more. Half a dozen other girls -were near: three from other stores, one from a shirt factory, one an -artificial-flower-maker who had been a shop-girl. - -"When I began," said the first, "father was alive, and I used what I -earned just for dressing myself. We were up at Morrisania, and I came -down every day. I was in the worsted and fancy department at D----'s, -and I had such a good eye for matching and choosing that they seemed to -think everything of me. But then father fell sick. He was a painter, and -had painter's colic awfully and at last paralysis. Then he died finally -and left mother and me, and she's in slow consumption and can't do much. -I earned seven dollars a week because I'd learned fancy work and did -some things evenings for the store, and we should have got along very -well. We'd had to move out a little farther, to the place mother was -born in, because rent was cheaper and she could never stand the city. -But this is the way it worked. I have to be at the store at eight -o'clock. The train that leaves home at seven gets me to the store two -minutes after eight, but though I've explained this to the manager he -says I've got to be at the store at eight, and so, summer and winter, I -have to take the train at half-past six and wait till doors are open. -It's the same way at night. The store closes at six, and if I could -leave then I could catch an express train that would get me home at -seven. The rules are that I must stop five minutes to help the girls -cover up the goods, and that just hinders my getting the train till -after seven, so that I am not home till eight." - -I looked at the girl more attentively. She was colorless and emaciated, -and, when not excited by speaking, languid and heavy. - -"Are you sure that you have explained the thing clearly so that the -manager understands?" I asked. - -"More than once," the girl answered, "but he said I should be fined if I -were not there at eight. Then I told him that the girls at my counter -would be glad to cover up my goods, and if he would only let me go at -six it would give me a little more time for mother. I sit up late anyway -to do things she can't, for we live in two rooms and I sew and do a good -many things after I go home." - -Inquiry a day or two later showed that her story was true in every -detail and also that she was a valuable assistant, one of the best among -a hundred or so employed. The firm gives largely to charitable objects, -and pays promptly, and at rates which, if low, are no lower than usual; -but they continue to exact this seven minutes' service from one whose -faithfulness might seem to have earned exemption from a purely arbitrary -rule--in such a case mere tyranny. The girl had offered to give up her -lunch hour, but the manager refused; and she dared not speak again for -fear of losing her place. - -"After all, she's better off than I am or lots of others," said one who -sat near her. "I'm down in the basement at M----'s, and forty others -like me, and about forty little girls. There's gas and electric light -both, but there isn't a breath of air, and it's so hot that after an -hour or two your head feels baked and your eyes as if they would fall -out. The dull season--that's from spring to fall--lasts six months, and -then we work nine and a half hours and Saturdays thirteen. The other six -months we work eleven hours, and holiday time till ten and eleven. I'm -strong. I'm an old hand and somehow stand things, but I've a cousin at -the ribbon counter, the very best girl in the world, I do believe. She -always makes the best of things, but this year it did seem as if the -whole town was at that counter. They stood four and five deep. She was -penned in with the other girls, a dozen or two, with drawers and cases -behind and counter in front, and there she stood from eight in the -morning till ten at night, with half an hour off for dinner and for -supper. She could have got through even that, but you see there has to -be steady passing in that narrow space, and she was knocked and pushed, -first by one and then by another, till she was sore all over; and at -last down she dropped right there, not fainting, but sort of gone, and -the doctor says she's most dead and can't go back, he doesn't know when. -Down there in the basement the girls have to put on blue glasses, the -glare is so dreadful, but they don't like to have us. The only comfort -is you're with a lot and don't feel lonesome. I can't bear to do -anything alone, no matter what it is." - -A girl with clear dark eyes and a face that might have been almost -beautiful but for its haggard, worn-out expression, turned from the -table where she had been writing and smiled as she looked at the last -speaker. - -"That is because you happen to be made that way," she said. "I am always -happier when I can be alone a good deal, but of course that's never -possible, or almost never. I shall want the first thousand years of my -heaven quite to myself, just for pure rest and a chance to think." - -"I don't know anything about heaven," the last speaker said hastily, -"but I'm sure I hope there's purgatory at least for some of the people -I've had to submit to. I think a woman manager is worse than a man. I've -never had trouble anywhere and always stay right on, but I've wanted to -knock some of the managers down, and it ought to have been done. Just -take the new superintendent. We loved the old one, but this one came in -when she died, and one of the first things she did was to discharge one -of the old girls because she didn't smile enough. Good reason why. She'd -lost her mother the week before and wasn't likely to feel much like -smiling. And then she went inside the counters and pitched out all the -old shoes the girls had there to make it easier to stand. It 'most kills -you to stand all day in new shoes, but Miss T---- pitched them all out -and said she wasn't going to have the store turned into an old-clothes -shop." - -"Well, it's better than lots of them, no matter what she does," said -another. "I was at H----'s for six months, and there you have to ask a -man for leave every time it is necessary to go upstairs, and half the -time he would look and laugh with the other clerks. I'd rather be where -there are all women. They're hard on you sometimes, but they don't use -foul language and insult you when you can't help yourself." - -This last complaint has proved for many stores a perfectly well-founded -one. Wash-rooms and other conveniences have been for common use, and -many sensitive and shrinking girls have brought on severe illnesses -arising solely from dread of running this gantlet. - -Here and there the conditions of this form of labor are of the best, but -as a whole the saleswoman suffers not only from long-continued standing, -but from bad air, ventilation having no place in the construction of the -ordinary store. Separate dressing-rooms are a necessity, yet are only -occasionally found, the system demanding that no outlay shall be made -when it is possible to avoid it. Overheating and overcrowding, hastily -eaten and improper food, are all causes of the weakness and anæmic -condition so perceptible among shop and factory workers, these being -divided into many classes. For a large proportion it can be said that -they are tolerably educated, so far as our public-school system can be -said to educate, and are hard-working, self-sacrificing, patient girls -who have the American knack of dressing well on small outlay, and who -have tastes and aspirations far beyond any means of gratifying them. For -such girls the working-women's guilds and the Friendly societies--these -last of English origin--have proved of inestimable service, giving them -the opportunities long denied. In such guilds many of them receive the -first real training of eye and hand and mind, learn what they can best -do, and often develop a practical ability for larger and better work. -Even in the lowest order filling the cheaper stores there is always a -proportion eager to learn. But here, as in all ordinary methods of -learning, the market is overstocked, and even the best-trained girl may -sometimes fail of employment. Now and then one turns toward household -service, but the mass prefer any cut in wages and any form of privation -to what they regard as almost a final degradation. A multitude of their -views on this point are recorded and will in time find place. - -In the mean time a minute examination of the causes that determine their -choice and of the conditions surrounding it as a whole go to prove the -justice of the conviction that penetrates the student of social -problems. Again, the shop-girl as a class demonstrates the fact that not -with her but with the class above her, through accident of birth or -fortune, lies the real responsibility for the follies over which we make -moan. The cheaper daily papers record in fullest detail the doings of -that fashionable world toward which many a weak girl or woman looks -with unspeakable longing; and the weekly "story papers" feed the flame -with unending details of the rich marriage that lifted the poor girl -into the luxury which stands to her empty mind as the sole thing to be -desired in earth or heaven. She knows far better what constitutes the -life of the rich than the rich ever know of the life of the poor. From -her post behind the counter the shop-girl examines every detail of -costume, every air and grace of these women whom she despises, even when -longing most to be one of them. She imitates where she can, and her -cheap shoe has its French heel, her neck its tin dog-collar. Gilt rings -and bracelets and bangles, frizzes and bangs and cheap trimmings of -every order, swallow up her earnings. The imitation is often more -effective than the real, and the girl knows it. She aspires to a -"manicure" set, to an opera-glass, to anything that will simulate the -life daily more passionately desired; and it is small wonder that when -sudden temptation comes and the door opens into that land where luxury -is at least nearer, she falls an easy victim. The class in which she -finally takes rank is seldom recruited from sources that would seem most -fruitful. The sewing-woman, the average factory worker, is devitalized -to such an extent that even ambition dies and the brain barely responds -to even the allurements of the weekly story paper. It is the class but a -grade removed, to whom no training has come from which strength or -simplicity or any virtue of honest living could grow, that makes the -army of women who have chosen degradation. - -A woman, herself a worker, but large-brained and large-hearted beyond -the common endowment, wrote recently of the dangers put in the way of -the average shop or factory girl, imploring happy women living at ease -to adopt simpler forms, or at least to ask what form of living went on -below them. She wrote:-- - - "It may be urged that ignorant and inexperienced as these workers - are, they see only the bubbles and the froth, the superficial - glitter and exuberant overflow of passing styles and social - pleasures, and miss much, if not all, of the earnestness, the - virtue, the charity, and the refinement which may belong to those - they imitate, but with whom they seldom come in contact. This is - the very point and purpose of this paper, to remonstrate against - the injustice done to the women of wealth and leisure by their own - carelessness and indifference, and to urge them to come down to - those who cannot come up to them, to study them with as keen an - interest as they themselves are studied,--to know how that other - half lives." - -"To know how that other half lives." That is the demand made upon woman -and man alike. Once at least put yourselves in the worker's place, if it -be but for half an hour, and think her thought and live her starved and -dreary life. Then ask what work must be done to alter conditions, to -kill false ideals, and vow that no day on earth shall pass that has not -held some effort, in word or deed, to make true living more possible for -every child of man. No mission, no guild, no sermon, has or can have -power alone. Only in the determined effort of the individual, in -individual understanding and renunciation forever of what has been -selfish and mean and base, can humanity know redemption and walk at last -side by side in that path where he who journeys alone finds no entrance, -nor can win it till self has dropped away, and knowledge come that -forever we are our brothers' keepers. - - - - -CHAPTER SIXTEENTH. - -TWO HOSPITAL BEDS. - - -Why and how the money-getting spirit has become the ruler of American -life and thought no analyzer of social conditions has yet made plain. -That New York might be monopolist in this respect could well be -conceived, for the Dutch were traders by birthright and New Amsterdam -arose to this one end. But why the Puritan colony, whose first act -before even the tree stumps were brown in their corn-fields was the -founding of a college, and whose corner-stone rested on a book,--why -these people should have come to represent a spirit of bargaining and an -aptitude for getting on unmatched by the keenest-witted Dutchman hath no -man yet told us. - -The sharpest business men of the present are chiefly "Yankees;" and if -"Jew" and "a hard bargain" are counted synonymes, "New-Englander" has -equal claim to the place. The birthplace and home of all reform, New -England is the home also of a greed born of hard conditions and -developing a keenness unequalled by that of any other bargainer on -earth. The Italian, the Greek, the Turk, find a certain æsthetic -satisfaction in bargaining and do it methodically, but always -picturesquely and with a relish unaffected by defeat; but with the -Yankee it is a passionate, absorbing desire, sharpening every line of -the face and felt even in the turn of the head or shoulders, and in -every line of the eager, restless figure. Success assured softens and -modifies these tendencies. Defeat aggravates them. One meets many a man -for whom it is plain that the beginning of life held unlimited faith -that the great city meant a fortune, the sanguine conviction passing -gradually into the interrogative form. The fortune is still there. Thus -far the conviction holds good, but his share in it has become more and -more problematical. The flying and elusive shadow still holds for him -the only real substance, but his hands have had no power to grasp or -detain, and the most dogged determination gives way at last to the sense -of hopeless failure. For this type may be the ending as cheap clerk or -bookkeeper, with furtive attempts at speculation when a few dollars have -been saved, or a retreat toward that remote West which has hidden -effectually so many baffled and defeated lives. There may also come -another ending, and the feverish, scheming soul lose its hold on the -body, which has meant to it merely a means of getting and increasing -money. - -It is this latter fate that came to a man who would have no place in -this record save for the fact that his last querulous and -still-questioning days were lived side by side with a man who had also -sought money, and having found it had chosen for it certain experimental -uses by means of which siphon he was presently drained dry. For him also -had been many defeats. A hospital ward held them both, and the two beds -were side by side, the one representing a patience that never failed, -yet something more than patience. For the face of this man bore no token -of defeat. It was rather triumph that looked at moments from the clear -eyes that had also an almost divine pity as they turned toward the -neighbor who poured out his story between paroxysms of coughing, and -having told it once, proceeded to tell it again, his sole and final -satisfaction in life being the arraignment of all living. The visitor -who came into the ward was pinned on the instant, the fiery eyes -demanding the hearing which was the last gift time held for him. It was -a common story often told, this slow, inevitable descent into poverty. -Its force lay in the condensed fury of the speaker, who looked on the -men he had known as sworn conspirators against him, and cursed them in -their going out and coming in with a relish that no argument could -affect. What his neighbor might have to tell was a matter of the purest -indifference. It was impossible even to ask his story; and it remained -impossible until a day when arraignment was cut short and the -disappointed, bitter soul passed on to such conditions as it had made -for itself. - -"You've got the best of me. They all do," he said in dying, with a last -turn of the sombre eyes toward his neighbor. "You ought to have gone -first by a week, and there you are. But this time I guess it's just as -well. I don't seem to want to fight any longer, and I'm glad I'm done. -It's your turn next. Good--" - -The words had come with gasps between and long pauses. Here they stopped -once for all. Good had found him; the only good for the child of earth, -who, having failed to learn his lesson here, must try a larger school -with a different system of training. The empty bed was not filled at -once. A screen shut it off. There was time now to hear other words than -the passionate railings that had monopolized all time. The sick man -mended a little, and in one of the days in which speech was easier gave -this record of his forty years:-- - -"It's a fact, I believe, that the sons of reformers seldom walk in the -same track. My father was one of the old Abolitionists, and an honest -one, ready to give money when he could and any kind of work when he -couldn't. It was a great cause. I cried over the negroes down South and -went without sugar a year or so, and learned to knit so that I could -knit some stockings for the small slaves my own size. But by the time I -was eight years old it was plain enough to me that there were other -kinds of slavery quite as bad, and that my own mother wore as heavy -bonds as any of them. She was a farmer's wife, and from year's end to -year's end she toiled and worked. She never had a cent of her own, for -the butter money was consecrated to the cause, and she gave it gladly. -My father had no particular intention to be unkind. He was simply like a -good two-thirds of the farmers I have known,--much more careful of his -animals than of his wife. A woman was so much cooking and cleaning and -butter-making force, and child-bearing an incident demanding as little -notice as possible. It is because of that theory that I am five inches -shorter than any of our tribe. My mother was a tall, slender woman, with -a springy step and eyes as clear as a brook. I see them sometimes as I -lie here at night. - -"I said to myself when I was ten that I'd have things easier for her -before she died. I said it straight ahead while I was working my way up -in the village store, for I would not farm, and when she died I said it -to her in the last hour I ever heard her voice: 'What I couldn't do for -you, mother, I'll do for all women as long as I am on the earth.' - -"I was eighteen then, and whichever way I turned some woman was having a -hard time, and some brute was making it for her. I knew it was partly -their own fault for not teaching their boys how to be unselfish and -decent, but custom and tradition, the law and the prophets, were all -against them. I watched it all I could, but I was deep in trying to get -ahead and I did. Somehow, in spite of my dreams and my fancies, there -was a money-making streak in me. It's a lost vein. You may search as you -will and find no trace, but it was there once and gave good returns. I -left the village at twenty-one and went to Philadelphia, and the small -savings I took with me from my clerking soon began to roll up. I had the -chance to go into a soap-factory; a queer change, but the old Quaker who -owned it knew my father and wanted to do me a good turn, and by the time -I had got the hang of it all I was junior partner and settled for life -if I liked. - -"Well, here it was again. This man was honest and clean. He meant to do -fairly by all mankind, and he tried to. He had some secrets in his -methods that made his soap the best in the market. The chief secret was -honest ingredients, but it was famous. If you've ever been in a -soap-factory you know what it is like. Every pound of it was wrapped in -paper as fast as it cooled, and the cooling and cutting room was filled -with girls who did the work. They were not the best order of girls. The -wages a week were from three to five dollars, and they were at it from -seven A. M. to six P. M. There was a good woman in the office,--a woman -with a head as well as a heart,--and she did the directing and -disciplining. It was no joke to keep peace if the cooling delayed and -the creatures began squabbling together, but she managed it, and by -night they were always meek enough. You're likely to be meek when you've -carried soap ten pounds at a time ten hours a day, from the cutting -table to the cooling table, across floors as slippery as glass or glare -ice. They picked it up as it cooled, wrapped it in paper, and had it in -boxes, five pounds to the minute, three hundred pounds an hour. The -caustic soda in it first turned their nails orange-color and then it ate -off their finger tips till they bled. They could not wear gloves, for -that would have interfered with the packing. - -"Now and then one cried, but only seldom. They were big, hearty girls. -They had to be to do that work, but my heart ached for them as they -filed out at night, so worn that there was no life left for anything but -to get home and into bed. Very few stayed on. The smart ones graduated -into something better. The stupid ones fell back and tried something -easier. But as I watched them and it came over me how untrained and -helpless they were, and how every chance of learning was cut off by the -long labor and the dead weariness, I said to myself that we owed them -something: shorter hours; better wages; some sort of share in the money -we were making. Friend Peter shook his head when I began to hint these -things. 'They fare well enough,' he said. 'Thee must not get socialistic -notions in thy head.' 'I know nothing about socialism,' I said. 'All I -want is justice, and thee wants it too. Thee has cried out for it for -the black brother and sister; why not for the white?' - -"'Thee is talking folly,' he said and would make no other answer. - -"It all weighed on me. Here was the money rolling in, or so it seemed to -me. We did make it in a sure, comfortable fashion. I was well off at -twenty-five, and better off every month; and I said to myself, the money -would have a curse on it if those who helped to earn it had no share. I -talked to the men in the boiling department. It takes brains to be a -good soap-maker. We kept to the old ways, simply because what they call -improvement in soap-making, like many another improvement, has been the -cheapening the product by the addition of various articles that lower -the quality. Experience has to teach. Theoretical knowledge isn't much -use save as foundation. A man must use eyes and tongue, and watch for -the critical moment in the finishing like a lynx. - -"Well, I beat my head against that wall of obstinacy till head and heart -were sore. It was enough to the old Quaker that he paid promptly and did -honest work; and when I told him at last that his gains were as -fraudulent as if he cheated deliberately, he said, 'Then thee need share -them no longer. Go thy way for a hot-headed fool.' - -"I went. There was an opening in New York, and I had every detail at my -fingers' ends. I went in with a man a little older, who seemed to think -as I did, and who did, till I made practical application of my theories. -I had studied everything to be had on the subject. I had mastered a -language or two in my evenings, for I lived like a hermit; but now I -began to talk with every business man, and try to understand why -competition was inevitable. I was in no haste. I admitted that men must -be trained to co-operate, but I said, 'We shall never learn by waiting. -We must learn by trying.' I tried to bring in other soap-makers, and one -or two listened; but most of them were using the cheap methods,--increasing -the quantity and lowering the quality. Some of the men had come on to me -from Philadelphia, and were bound to stay, but it was hard on them. They -had to go into tenement-houses, for there were no homes for them such as -building associations in Philadelphia make possible for every workman. -But I took a house and divided it up and made it comfortable, and I -lived on the lower floor myself, so that kept them contented. I fitted -up a room for a reading-room, and twice a week had talks; not lectures, -but talks where every man had a chance to speak five minutes if he -would, and to ask questions. I coaxed the women to come. I wanted them -to understand, and two or three took hold. I made a decent place for -them to eat their dinners, and put these women in charge. I put in an -oil-stove and a table and seats, and gave them coffee and tea at two -cents a cup, and tried to have them care for the place. That has been -done over and over by many an employer who pities his workers; and nine -times out of ten the same result follows. The animal crops out. They -were rough girls at any time, yet, taken one by one, behaved well -enough. But I've seen boys and girls at a donation party throw cheese -and what not on the carpet and rub it in deliberately, and I don't know -that one need wonder that lunch-rooms in store or factory turn into -pig-pens, and the few decent ones can make no headway. - -"I spoke out to them all, but it was no more than the wind blowing, and -at last even I gave it up. There was no conscience in them to touch. -They wanted shorter hours and more money, when they had got to the point -of seeing that I was trying to help, but they had no notion of helping -back. With my men it worked, and they talked down the women sometimes. -But when a bad year came,--for soap has its ups and downs like -everything else,--most of them struck, and the wise ones could make no -headway. 'It's a losing game,' my partner said; 'if you want to go on -you must go on alone.' - -"I did go on alone. He left and took his capital with him. The best men -stayed with me and swore to take their chances. The soap was good, and I -made a hit in one or two fancy kinds, but I could not compete with men -who used mean material and turned out something that looked as well at -half the price. My money melted away, and a fire--set, they told me, by -a man I had discharged for long-continued dishonesty--finished me. I had -the name of stirring up strife for the manufacturers, because I tried to -teach my workers the principle of co-operation, and begged for it where -I could. It hurt my business standing. Men felt that I must be a fool. I -had worked for it with such absorption that I had had little time for -any joy of life. I had neither wife nor child, though I longed for both. -I would not have ease and happiness alone. I wanted it for my fellows. -To-day it might be. Ten years ago it only the thought of a dreamer, and -I made no headway. - -"The fire left me stranded. I went in as superintendent of some new -works, but went out in a month, for I could not consent to cheat, and -fraud was in every pound sent out. I tried one place and another with -the same result. Competition makes honesty impossible. A man would admit -it to me without hesitation, but would end: 'There's no other way. Don't -be a fool. You can't stand out against a system.' - -"'I will stand out if it starves me,' I said. 'I will not sell my soul -for any man's hire. The time is coming when this rottenness must end. -Make one more to fight it now.' - -"Men looked at me pitifully. 'I was throwing away chances,' they said. -'Why wouldn't I hear reason? We were in the world, not in Utopia.' - -"'We are in the hell we have made for all mankind,' I said. 'The only -real world is the world which is founded on truth and justice. -Everything else falls away.' - -"Everything else has fallen away. I was never strong, and a year ago I -was knocked down in a scrimmage. Some bullies from one of the factories -set on my men--mine no longer, but still preaching my doctrine. Somehow -I was kicked in the chest and a rib broken, and this saved me probably -from being sent up as a disturber of the peace. The right lung was -wounded, and consumption came naturally. They nursed me--Tom's wife and -sister, good souls--till I refused to burden them any longer and came -here in spite of them. It has been a sharp fight. I seem to have failed; -yet the way is easier for the next. Co-operation will come. It must -come. It is the law of life. It is the only path out of this jungle in -which we wander and struggle and die. But there must be training. There -must be better understanding. I would give a thousand lives joyfully if -only I could make men and women who sit at ease know the sorrow of the -poor. It is their ignorance that is their curse. Teach them; study them. -Care as much for the outcast at home as for the heathen abroad. And, oh, -if you can make anybody listen, beg them for Christ's sake, for their -own sake, to hearken and to help! Beg them to study; not to say with no -knowledge that help is impossible, but to study, to think, and then to -work with their might. It is my last word,--a poor word that can reach -none, it may be, any more, and yet, who knows what wind of the Lord may -bear it on, what ground may be waiting for the seed? I shall see it, but -not now. I shall behold it, and it will be nigh, in that place to which -I go. Work for it; die for it if need be; for man's hope, man's life, if -ever he knows true life, has no other foundation." - - - - -CHAPTER SEVENTEENTH. - -CHILD-WORKERS IN NEW YORK. - - -Political economists in general, with the additional number of those who -for one purpose and another turn over statistics of labor, nodded -approvingly as they gazed upon the figures of the last general census -for the State of New York, which showed that among the myriad of workers -in factory and other occupations, but twenty-four thousand children were -included. - - "Fifty-six million and more inhabitants, and all faring so well - that only one fortieth part of one of these millions is employed - too early in this Empire State. Civilization could hardly do more. - See how America leads among all civilized countries as the - protector of the feeble, the guarantee of strength for the weakest. - No other country guards its children so well. There have been - errors, of course; such enlightenment is not reached at a bound; - but the last Legislature made further ones impossible, for it fixed - the minimum limit at which a child may be employed in factories at - thirteen years of age. By thirteen a child isn't likely to be - stunted or hurt by overwork. We protect all classes and the weakest - most." - -Thus the political economist who stops at figures and considers any -further dealing with the question unnecessary. And if the law were of -stringent application; if parents told the truth as to age, and if the -two inspectors who are supposed to suffice for the thousands of -factories in the State of New York were multiplied by fifty, there might -be some chance of carrying out the provisions of this law. As it is, it -is a mere form of words, evaded daily; a bit of legislation which, like -much else bearing with it apparent benefit, proves when analyzed to be -not much more than sham. The law applies to factories only. It does not -touch mercantile establishments or trades that are carried on in -tenement-houses, and it is with these two latter forms of labor that we -deal to-day. In factory labor in the city of New York nine thousand -children under twelve years of age are doing their part toward swelling -the accumulation of wealth, each adding their tiny contribution to the -great stream of what we call the prosperity of the nineteenth century. -Thus far their share in the trades we have considered has been ignored. -Let us see in what fashion they make part of the system. - -For a large proportion of the women visited, among whom all forms of the -clothing industry were the occupation, children under ten, and more -often from four to eight, were valuable assistants. In a small room on -Hester Street, a woman on work on overalls--for the making of which she -received one dollar a dozen--said:-- - -"I couldn't do as well if it wasn't for Jinny and Mame there. Mame has -learned to sew on buttons first-rate, and Jinny is doing almost as well. -I'm alone to-day, but most days three of us sew together here, and Jinny -keeps right along. We'll do better yet when Mame gets a bit older." - -As she spoke the door opened and a woman with an enormous bundle of -overalls entered and sat down on the nearest chair with a gasp. - -"Them stairs is killin'," she said. "It's lucky I've not to climb 'em -often." - -Something crept forward as the bundle slid to the floor, and busied -itself with the string that bound it. - -"Here you, Jinny," said the woman, "don't you be foolin'. What do you -want anyhow?" - -The something shook back a mat of thick hair and rose to its feet,--a -tiny child who in size seemed no more than three, but whose countenance -indicated the experience of three hundred. - -"It's the string I want," the small voice said. "Me an' Mame was goin' -to play with it." - -"There's small time for play," said the mother; "there'll be two pair -more in a minute or two, an' you're to see how Mame does one an' do it -good too, or I'll find out why not." - -Mame had come forward and stood holding to the one thin garment which -but partly covered Jinny's little bones. She too looked out from a wild -thatch of black hair, and with the same expression of deep experience, -the pallid, hungry little faces lighting suddenly as some cheap cakes -were produced. Both of them sat down on the floor and ate their portion -silently. - -"Mame's seven and Jinny's going on six," said the mother, "but Jinny's -the smartest. She could sew on buttons when she wasn't but much over -four. I had five then, but the Lord's took 'em all but these two. I -couldn't get on if it wasn't for Mame." - -Mame looked up but said no word, and as I left the room settled herself -with her back against the wall, Jinny at her side, laying the coveted -string near at hand for use if any minute for play arrived. In the next -room, half-lighted like the last, and if possible even dirtier, a Jewish -tailor sat at work on a coat, and by him on the floor a child of five -picking threads from another. - -"Netta is good help," he said after a word or two. "So fast as I finish, -she pick all the threads. She care not to go away--she stay by me always -to help." - -"Is she the only one?" - -"But one that sells papers. Last year is five, but mother and dree are -gone with fever. It is many that die. What will you? It is the will of -God." - -On the floor below two children of seven and eight were found also -sewing on buttons--in this case for four women who had their machines in -one room and were making the cheapest order of corset-cover, for which -they received fifty cents a dozen, each one having five buttons. It -could not be called oppressive work, yet the children were held there to -be ready for each one completed, and sat as such children most often do, -silent and half asleep waiting for the next demand. - -"It's hard on 'em," one of the women said. "We work till ten and -sometimes later, but then they sleep between and we can't; and they get -the change of running out for a loaf of bread or whatever's wanted, and -we don't stir from the machine from morning till night. I've got two o' -me own, but they're out peddling matches." - -On the lower floor back of the small grocery in which the people of the -house bought their food supply,--wilted or half-decayed vegetables, meat -of the cheapest order, broken eggs and stale fish,--a tailor and two -helpers were at work. A girl of nine or ten sat among them and picked -threads or sewed on buttons as needed; a haggard, wretched-looking child -who did not look up as the door opened. A woman who had come down the -stairs behind me stopped a moment, and as I passed out said:-- - -"If there was a law for him I'd have him up. It's his own sister's -child, and he workin' her ten hours a day an' many a day into the night, -an' she with an open sore on her neck, an' crying out many's the time -when she draws out a long needleful an' so gives it a jerk. She's sewed -on millions of buttons, that child has, an' she but a little past ten. -May there be a hot place waitin' for him!" - -A block or two beyond, the house entered proved to be given over chiefly -to cigar-making. It is to this trade that women and girls turn during -the dull season, and one finds in it representatives from every trade in -which women are engaged. The sewing-women employed in suit and clothing -manufactories during the busy season have no resource save this, and -thus prices are kept down and the regular cigar-makers constantly -reinforced by the irregular. In the present case it was chiefly with -regular makers that the house was filled, one room a little less than -twelve by fourteen feet holding a family of seven persons, three of them -children under ten, all girls. Tobacco lay in piles on the floor and -under the long table at one end where the cigars were rolled, its rank -smell dominating that from the sinks and from the general filth, not -only of this room but of the house as a whole. Two of the children sat -on the floor stripping the leaves, and another on a small stool. A girl -of twenty sat near them, and all alike had sores on lips and cheeks and -on the hands. Children from five or six years up can be taught to strip -and thus add to the week's income, which is far less for the -tenement-house manufacture than for regular factory work, the latter -averaging from eight to twelve dollars a week. But the work if done at -home can be made to include the entire family, and some four thousand -women are engaged in it, an almost equal but unregistered number of -young children sharing it with them. As in sewing, a number of women -often club together, using one room, and in such case their babies crawl -about in the filth on the wet floors, playing with the damp tobacco and -breathing the poison with which the room is saturated. - -Here, as in tobacco factories, women and girls of every age become -speedily the victims of nervous and hysterical complaints, the direct -result of nicotine poisoning; while succeeding these come consumption -and throat diseases resulting from the dust. Canker is one of the most -frequent difficulties, and sores of many orders, the trade involving -more dangers than any that can be chosen. Yet because an entire family -can find occupation in it, with no necessity for leaving home, it is -often preferred to easier employment. It is the children who suffer -most, growth being stunted, nervous disease developed and ending often -in St. Vitus's dance, and skin diseases of every order being the rule, -the causes being not only tobacco, but the filth in which they live. - -It is doubtful if the most inveterate smoker would feel much relish for -the cigar manufactured under such conditions; yet hundreds of thousands -go out yearly from these houses, bearing in every leaf the poison of -their preparation. In this one house nearly thirty children of all ages -and sizes, babies predominating, rolled in the tobacco which covered the -floor and was piled in every direction; and of these children under ten -thirteen were strippers and did their day's work of ten hours and more. -Physical degeneration in its worst forms becomes inevitable. Even the -factory child-worker fares better, for in the factory there is exercise -and the going to and from work, while in the tenement-house cigar-making -the worn-out little creatures crawl to the bed, often only a pile of -rags in the corner, or lie down on a heap of the tobacco itself, -breathing this poison day and night uninterruptedly. Vices of every -order flourish in such air, and morality in this trade is at lowest ebb. -Nervous excitement is so intense that necessarily nothing but immorality -can result, and the child of eight or ten is as gross and confirmed an -offender as the full-grown man or woman. Diligent search discovers few -exceptions to this rule, and the whole matter has reached a stage where -legislative interference is absolutely indispensable. Only in forbidding -tenement-house manufacture absolutely can there be any safety for either -consumer or producer. - -Following in the same line of inquiry I take here the facts furnished to -Professor Adler by a lady physician whose work has long lain among the -poor. During the eighteen months prior to February 1, 1886, she found -among the people with whom she came in contact five hundred and -thirty-five children under twelve years old,--most of them between ten -and twelve,--who either worked in shops or stores or helped their -mothers in some kind of work at home. Of these five hundred and -thirty-five children but sixty were healthy. In one family a child at -three years old had infantile paralysis, easily curable. The mother had -no time to attend to it. At five years old the child was taught to sew -buttons on trousers. She is now at thirteen a hopeless cripple; but she -finishes a dozen pair of trousers a day, and her family are thus twenty -cents the richer. In another family she found twin girls four and a half -years old sewing on buttons from six in the morning till ten at night; -and near them was a family of three,--a woman who did the same work and -whose old father of eighty and little girl of six were her co-workers. - -There is a compulsory education law, but it demands only fourteen weeks -of the year, and the poorer class work from early morning till eight -A. M. and after school hours from four till late in the night. With such -energy as is left they take their fourteen weeks of education, but even -in these many methods of evasion are practised. It is easy to swear that -the child is over fourteen, but small of its age, and this is constantly -done. It is sometimes done deliberately by thinking workmen, who deny -that the common school as it at present exists can give any training -that they desire for their children, or that it will ever do so till -manual training forms part of the course. But for most it is not -intelligent dissatisfaction, but the absorbing press of getting a living -that compels the employment of child-labor, and thus brings physical and -moral degeneration, not only for this generation but for many to come. -It is not alone the nine thousand in factories that we must deal with, -but many hundred thousands uncounted and unrecognized, the same spirit -dominating all. - -In one of the better class of tenement-houses a woman, a polisher in a -jewelry manufactory, said the other day:-- - -"I'm willing to work hard, I don't care how hard; but it's awful to me -to see my little boy and the way he goes on. He's a cash-boy at D----'s, -and they don't pay by the week, they pay by checks, so every cash-boy is -on the keen jump after a call. They're so worried and anxious and afraid -they won't get enough; and Johnny cries and says, 'O mamma, I do try, -but there's one boy that always gets ahead of me.' I think it's an awful -system, even if it does make them smart." - -An awful system, yet in its ranks march more and more thousands every -year. It would seem as if every force in modern civilization bent toward -this one end of money-getting, and the child of days and the old man of -years alike shared the passion and ran the same mad race. It is the -passion itself that has outgrown all bounds and that faces us -to-day,--the modern Medusa on which he who looks has no more heart of -flesh and blood but forever heart of stone, insensible to any sorrow, -unmoved by any cry of child or woman. It is with this shape that the -battle must be, and no man has yet told us its issue. Nay, save here and -there one, who counts that battle is needed, or sees the shadow of the -terror walking not only in darkness but before all men's eyes, who is -there that has not chosen blindness and will not hear the voice that -pleads: "Let my people go free"? - - - - -CHAPTER EIGHTEENTH. - -STEADY TRADES AND THEIR OUTLOOK. - - -"I used to think there were steady trades; but somehow now everything -gets mixed, and you can't tell what's steady and what isn't." - -"What makes the mix?" - -"The Lord only knows! I've studied over it till I'm dazed, and sometimes -I've wondered if my mind was weakening." - -The speaker, a middle-aged Scotchwoman, whose tongue still held a little -of the burr that thirty years of American life had not been able to -extract, put her hand to her head as if the fault must concentrate -there. - -"If it was my trade alone," she said, "I might think I was to blame for -not learning new ways, but it's the same in all. Now, take -mattress-making. I learned that because I could help my father best that -way. He was an upholsterer in Aberdeen, and came over to better himself, -and he did if he hadn't signed notes for a friend and ruined himself. He -upholstered in the big families for thirty years, and everybody knew -his little place on Hudson Street. People then bought furniture to last, -and had it covered with the best of stuff, and so with curtains and -hangings. Damask was damask, I can tell you, and velvet lambrequins -meant money. No cotton-back stuff. They got shaken and brushed and done -up from moths. People had some respect for good material. Nobody -respects anything now. I saw a rich woman the other day let her boy six -years old empty a box of candy on a pale-blue satin couch, and then sit -down on it and rub his shoes up and down on the edge. I say that when -there's no respect left for anything it's no wonder decent work comes to -an end. I make a mattress and there isn't an inch of it that isn't sewed -to last and that isn't an honest piece of work, but you can go into any -house-furnishing department and buy one that looks just as well for a -third less money. Everything's so cheap that people don't care whether -anything lasts or not, and so there's no decent work done; and people -pretend to have learned trades when really they just botch things -together. I just go round in houses and make over,--places that I've had -for years; and I've been forewoman in a big factory, but somehow a -factory mattress never seems to me as springy and good as the old kind. -Upholsterers make pretty good wages, but it can't be called steady any -more, though it used to be. I've thought many a time of going into -business for myself, but competition's awful, and I'm afraid to try. I -won't cheat, and there's no getting ahead unless you do." - -"What are the wages?" - -"A picker gets about three dollars a week. She just picks over the hair, -and most any kind of girl seems to do now that everything is steamed or -done by machinery. The highest wages now are nine dollars a week, though -I used to earn fifteen and eighteen sometimes, and the dull season makes -the average about six dollars. I earn nine or ten because I do a good -deal of private work, but a woman that can make forty dollars a month -straight ahead is lucky." - -Several women of much the same order of intelligence, two of them -forewomen for years in prosperous establishments, added their testimony -as to the shifting character of wages and of employments. One had -watched the course of neckties for seventeen years,--a keen-eyed little -widow who had fought hard to educate her two children and preserve some -portion of the respectability she loved. - -"You'd never dream how many kinds there have been, or, for that matter, -how many kinds there are. We even make stocks for a few old-fashioned -gentlemen that will have them. It's a business that a lady turns to -first thing almost if she wants to earn, and we give out hundreds on -hundreds to such, besides sending loads into the country. I often think -our house turns out enough for the whole United States, but we're only -a beginning. We pay well,--well as any, and better. Twenty-five cents a -dozen is good pay now, and we see that our cutter leaves margin enough -to keep the women from being cheated. That's a great trick with some. -Sometimes the cutter is paid by the number he can get out of a piece of -goods; sometimes he screws just because he's made so. But they cut by -measure, and they allow so little to turn in that the thing frays in -your hand, and no mortal could help it, and if one is frayed the foreman -just throws out the dozen. Then lots of them advertise for girls to -learn, and say they must give the first week or fortnight free; and when -that is over they say work is slack or some other excuse, and take in a -lot more that have been waiting. We've taken many a girl that came -crying and told how she'd been kept on and cheated. There's one man on -Third Avenue that runs his place on this plan, and has got rich. But I -say to every girl: 'You'd better have something more than the last shape -in neckties between you and starvation. You'll never get beyond five or -six dollars a week at most, and generally not that.' It don't make any -difference. There are dozens waiting for the chance to starve genteelly. -It's a genteel trade and a pretty steady one, but if a dull time comes -the girls go into cigar-making and manage along somehow. I've coaxed a -good many into service, but it isn't one in a hundred will try that." - -The third woman represented a hat-pressing factory in which she had been -eleven years, and in which the wages had fallen year by year, till at -present women, even when most expert, can earn not over six dollars per -week as against from eight to twelve in previous years. The trade is -regarded as a steady one, for spring and summer straws give place to -felt, and a certain number of hands are sure of employment. In direct -association with this trade must be considered that of artificial -flowers and feathers, in which there is perpetual see-saw. If feathers -are in vogue flowers are down, and _vice versa_. Five thousand women are -employed on feathers, and the establishments, which in 1871 numbered but -twelve, now number over fifty; but those for flowers far exceed them. -Learners work for three dollars or less per week, the highest wages -attainable in either being fifteen dollars, the average being about -nine. The demand for one or the other is continuous, but when fashion in -1886 called for scarfs and flowers, four thousand feather-workers were -thrown out and lived as they could till another turn in the wheel -restored their occupation. - -"One or the other of 'em is always steady" said a woman who had learned -both trades, and thus stood prepared to circumvent fate. "The trouble -is, you never know a week ahead which will be up and which down. Lots of -us have learned both, and when I see the firm putting their heads -together I know what it means and just go across the way to -Pillsbury's, and the same with them. It's good pay and one or the other -steady, but the Lord only knows which." - -"If you want steadiness you've got to take to jute," said a girl who -with her sister lived in one of the upper rooms. "There ain't many -jute-mills in the country, and you go straight ahead. We two began in a -cotton-mill, but there's this queer thing about it. Breathe cotton-fluff -all day and you're just sure to have consumption; but breathe a peck of -jute-fluff a day and it didn't seem to make any difference. That isn't -my notion. Our doctor said he'd noticed it, and he took home some of the -fibre to examine it. For my part we're called a rough lot, but I'd -rather take that discredit and keep on in the mill. You can stir round -and don't have to double up over sewing or that kind of thing. I can -earn seven dollars a week, and I'd rather earn it that way than any -other." - -An hour or two in the mill, which included every form of manufacture -that jute has yet taken, from seamless bags of all sizes and grades up -to carpets, convinced one that if nerves were hardened to the incessant -noise of machinery, there were distinct advantages associated with it. -The few Scotch in the mill, men and women who had been brought over from -Dundee, the headquarters of the jute industry abroad, insisted that jute -was healthy, and long life for all who handled it a forgone conclusion. -A tour among the workers seemed to confirm this impression, though here -and there one found the factory face, with its dead paleness and -dark-ringed eyes. Children as small as can be held to be consistent with -the assumption of their thirteen years are preferred, their work as -"doffers" or spool-changers requiring small quick hands. So, too, in -fixing the pattern for carpets, where the threads must be manipulated -with speed and light touch. It is preferred that children should grow up -in the mill, passing from one room to another as they master processes, -and the employees thus stay on and regard themselves as portions of the -business. Some three or four thousand women and girls find occupation -here. The waste from the carding-rooms is sent to the paper-mills and -enters into manila paper and pasteboard, and this brings one to the -paper-box makers, of whom there are several thousand at work. - -This trade, while nominally one of the steadiest, has its short periods -of depression. Competition is also as severe here as in every other -present form of industry, and thus prices are kept down, the highest -rate of wages earned being nine dollars, while seven dollars is -considered fair. There must be a certain apprenticeship, not less than -six months being required to master details and understand each stage of -the work. In one of the best of these establishments, where space was -plenty and ventilation and other conditions all good, one woman had -been in the firm's employ for eighteen years and was practically -forewoman, though no such office is recognized. Beginners were placed in -her hands and did not leave her till a perfect box could be turned off. -Cutting is all done by special machines, and the paper for covering is -prepared in the same way, glue or paste being used according to the -degree of strength desired in the box. The work is all piece-work, from -fifty to seventy cents a hundred being paid; a fair worker making two -hundred a day and an expert nearly or quite three hundred. But -competition governs the price and cuts are often made. A firm will -underbid and an order be transferred to it, unless the girls will -consent to do the work five or, it may be, ten cents less on the -hundred, and thus wages can seldom pass beyond nine dollars a week, dull -seasons and cuts reducing the average to seven and a half. Many even -good workers fall far below this, as they prefer to come late and go -early, piece-work admitting of this arrangement. The woman who takes up -this trade may be confident of earning from twenty-five to thirty-five -dollars a month, but she never exceeds this amount; nor is there -promotion beyond a certain point. In paper hangings wages do not rise -above twenty-five dollars at most, and in paper collars and cuffs, as in -everything connected with clothing, the rate is much less. Rags are the -foundation industry in all these forms of paper manufacture, but the -two thousand women who work at sorting these seldom pass beyond five -dollars, and more often receive but two and a half or three dollars per -week. - -Under much the same head must come the preparation of sample cards, -playing cards, and various forms of stationers' work. The latter has -short dull seasons when girls may, for two or three weeks, have no work; -but it is otherwise a steady trade, the wages running from three and a -half to seven dollars per week. They stamp initials and crests with -large hand presses, and stamp also the cheaper order of lithographs; -they run envelope machines, color mourning paper, apply mucilage to -envelopes, and pack small boxes of paper and envelopes. In all of the -last mentioned trades hours are from eight A. M. to half-past five P. M., -with half an hour for lunch, and a girl of fifteen can earn the same -wages as the woman of fifty, a light, quick touch and care being the -only essentials. - -The trades mentioned here and in preceding papers form but a portion of -the ninety and more open to women. Thirty-eight of these are directly -connected with clothing, and include every phase of ornament or use in -braid, gimp, button, clasp, lining, or other article employed in its -manufacture. In every one of these competition keeps wages at the lowest -possible figure. Outside of the army here employed come the washers and -ironers who laundry shirts and underwear, whose work is of the most -exhausting order, who "lean hard" on the iron, and in time become the -victims of diseases resulting from ten hours a day of this "leaning -hard," and who complain bitterly that prisons and reformatories underbid -them and keep wages down. It is quite true. Convict labor here as -elsewhere is the foe of the honest worker, and complicates a problem -already sufficiently complicated. These ironers can make from ten to -twelve dollars per week, but soon fail in health and turn to lighter -work, many of them taking up cigar-making, which soon finishes the work -of demoralization. - -Fringes, gimps, plush, and bonnet ornaments are overcrowded with -workers, for here, as in flowers and feathers, fashion determines the -season's work, and the fringe-maker has for a year or so had small call -for her knowledge save in some forms of upholstery. One and all are so -hedged in by competition that to pass beyond a certain limit is -impossible, and all wages are kept at the lowest point, not only by this -fact, but by the fact that many women who had learned the trade continue -it after marriage as a means of adding a trifle to the family income. An -expert in any one of them is tolerably certain of steady employment, but -wages have reached the lowest point and it does not appear that any rise -is probable. Sharp competition rules and will rule till the working -class themselves recognize the necessity of an education that will make -them something more than adjuncts to machinery, and of an organization -in which co-operation will take the place of competition. That both must -come is as certain as that evolution is upward and not downward, but it -is still a distant day, and neither employer nor employed have yet -learned the possibilities of either. - - - - -CHAPTER NINETEENTH. - -DOMESTIC SERVICE AND ITS PROBLEMS. - - -At last we have come to the problem to which there has necessarily been -incidental reference here and there, but which has otherwise bided its -time. That these pages or any pages written by mortal hand in this -generation can solve it, the writer doubts, its solution being -inextricably involved with that of other social problems for which time -is the chief key. State the question as we may, there is always a fresh -presentation to be made, and replies are as various as the minds of the -staters. It is the mistress with whom such presentation has thus far -rested,--a mistress thorned beyond endurance by incompetence, dirt, -waste, insubordination,--all the evils known to ignorant and -presumptuous service. For such mistress, smarting from a sense of wrong, -and hopeless and faithless as to remedies, the outlook is necessarily -bounded by her own horizon. She listens with indignant contempt to the -story of the thousands who choose their garrets and semi-starvation with -independence, to the shelter and abundance of the homes in which they -might be made welcome. She may even aver that any statement of their -suffering is stupid sentimentality; the gush and maudlin melancholy of -"humanitarian clergymen and newspaper reformers." - -For her, as for most of her order, in whom as yet no faculty for seeing -both sides of a question has developed, there can be no reply save in -words already spoken. "These women, working for wages that keep them -always just above starvation point, have no power left to think beyond -the need of the hour. They cannot stop, they dare not stop, to think of -other methods of earning. They have no clothing in which they could -obtain even entrance to an intelligence office. They have no knowledge -that could make them servants even of the meanest order. They are what -is left of untrained and hopelessly ignorant lives," given over to -suffering born in part from their ignorance; and for a large proportion -of such cases there can be merely alleviation, and such slight bettering -of conditions as would come from a system into which justice entered -more fully. - -With this army of incompetents we have at present nothing to do. Our -interest lies in discovering what is at the bottom of the objection to -domestic service; how far these objections are rational and to be -treated with respect, and how they may be obviated. The mistress's point -of view we all know. We know, too, her presentation of objections as she -fancies she has discovered them. What we do not know is the ground -taken by sensible, self-respecting girls, who have chosen trades in -preference, and from whom full detail has been obtained as to the -reasons for such choice. In listening to the countless stories of -experiment in earning a living, the passage from one industry to -another, and the uncertainties and despairs before the right thing had -shown itself, the question has always been asked, "How did it happen -that you did not try to get a place in some good family?" - -The answers were as various as the characters of those who replied; some -with indignation that they should be supposed capable of this -degradation, but most of them thoughtfully and reasonably. In time they -arranged themselves under heads, the occupations represented by the -various respondents being over seventy. They were chiefly above the -ordinary domestic in intelligence and education, their employments being -of every order, from paper-box making to type-writing and stenography; -but the trades predominated,--American being the nationality most -largely represented, Irish born in this country ranking next, and German -and a sprinkling of other nationalities following. These replies are -precisely of the same nature as those given some time ago in -Philadelphia during an investigation made by the head of one of the -first guilds for working-women established in this country, objections -being practically the same at whatever point they may be given. They -were arranged under different heads and numbered in order. - -In the present case it seems well to take the individual testimony, each -girl whose verdict is chosen representing a class, and being really its -mouthpiece. - -First on the list stands Margaret M----, an American, twenty-three years -old, and for five years in a paper-box factory. Seven others nodded -their assent, or added a word here and there as she gave her view, two -of them Irish-Americans who had had some years in the public schools. - -"It's freedom that we want when the day's work is done. I know some nice -girls, Bridget's cousins, that make more money and dress better and -everything for being in service. They're waitresses, and have Thursday -afternoon out and part of every other Sunday. But they're never sure of -one minute that's their own when they're in the house. Our day is ten -hours long, but when it's done it's done, and we can do what we like -with the evenings. That's what I've heard from every nice girl that ever -tried service. You're never sure that your soul's your own except when -you are out of the house, and I couldn't stand that a day. Women care -just as much for freedom as men do. Of course they don't get so much, -but I know I'd fight for mine." - -"Women are always harder on women than men are," said a fur-sewer, an -intelligent American about thirty. "I got tired of always sitting, and -took a place as chambermaid. The work was all right and the wages good, -but I'll tell you what I couldn't stand. The cook and the waitress were -just common, uneducated Irish, and I had to room with one and stand the -personal habits of both, and the way they did at table took all my -appetite. I couldn't eat, and began to run down; and at last I gave -notice, and told the truth when I was asked why. The lady just looked at -me astonished: 'If you take a servant's place, you can't expect to be -one of the family,' she said. 'I never asked it,' I said; 'all I ask is -a chance at common decency.' 'It will be difficult to find an easier -place than this,' she said, and I knew it; but ease one way was hardness -another, and she couldn't see that I had any right to complain. That's -one trouble in the way. It's the mixing up of things, and mistresses -don't think how they would feel in the same place." - -Third came an Irish-American whose mother had been cook for years in one -family, but who had, after a few months of service, gone into a -jute-mill, followed gradually by five sisters. - -"I hate the very words 'service' and 'servant,'" she said. "We came to -this country to better ourselves, and it's not bettering to have anybody -ordering you round." - -"But you are ordered in the mill." - -"That's different. A man knows what he wants, and doesn't go beyond it; -but a woman never knows what she wants, and sort of bosses you -everlastingly. If there was such a thing as fixed hours it might be -different, but I tell every girl I know, 'Whatever you do, don't go into -service. You'll always be prisoners and always looked down on.' You can -do things at home for them as belongs to you that somehow it seems -different to do for strangers. Anyway, I hate it, and there's plenty -like me." - -"What I minded," said a gentle, quiet girl, who worked at a stationer's, -and who had tried household service for a year,--"what I minded was the -awful lonesomeness. I went for general housework, because I knew all -about it, and there were only three in the family. I never minded being -alone evenings in my own room, for I'm always reading or something, and -I don't go out hardly at all, but then I always know I can, and that -there is somebody to talk to if I like. But there, except to give -orders, they had nothing to do with me. It got to feel sort of crushing -at last. I cried myself sick, and at last I gave it up, though I don't -mind the work at all. I know there are good places, but the two I tried -happened to be about alike, and I sha'n't try again. There are a good -many would feel just the same." - -"Oh, nobody need to tell me about poor servants," said an energetic -woman of forty, Irish-American, and for years in a shirt factory. "Don't -I know the way the hussies'll do, comin' out of a bog maybe, an' not -knowing the names even, let alone the use, of half the things in the -kitchen, and asking their twelve and fourteen dollars a month? Don't I -know it well, an' the shame it is to 'em! but I know plenty o' decent, -hard-workin' girls too, that give good satisfaction, an' this is what -they say. They say the main trouble is, the mistresses don't know, no -more than babies, what a day's work really is. A smart girl keeps on her -feet all the time to prove she isn't lazy, for if the mistress finds her -sitting down, she thinks there can't be much to do and that she doesn't -earn her wages. Then if a girl tries to save herself or is deliberate, -they call her slow. They want girls on tap from six in the morning till -ten and eleven at night. 'Tisn't fair. And then, if there's a let-up in -the work, maybe they give you the baby to see to. I like a nice baby, -but I don't like having one turned over to me when I'm fit to drop -scrabbling to get through and sit down a bit. I've naught to say for the -girls that's breaking things and half doing the work. They're a shameful -set, and ought to be put down somehow; but it's a fact that the most -I've known in service have been another sort that stayed long in places -and hated change. There's many a good place too, but the bad ones -outnumber 'em. Women make hard mistresses, and I say again, I'd rather -be under a man, that knows what he wants. That's the way with most." - -"I don't see why people are surprised that we don't rush into places," -said a shop-girl. "Our world may be a very narrow world, and I know it -is; but for all that, it's the only one we've got, and right or wrong, -we're out of it if we go into service. A teacher or cashier or anybody -in a store, no matter if they have got common-sense, doesn't want to -associate with servants. Somehow you get a sort of smooch. Young men -think and say, for I have heard lots of them, 'Oh, she can't amount to -much if she hasn't brains enough to make a living outside of a kitchen!' -You're just down once for all if you go into one." - -"I don't agree with you at all," said a young teacher who had come with -her. "The people that hire you go into kitchens and are not disgraced. -What I felt was, for you see I tried it, that they oughtn't to make me -go into livery. I was worn out with teaching, and so I concluded to try -being a nurse for a while. I found two hard things: one, that I was -never free for an hour from the children, for I took meals and all with -them, and any mother knows what a rest it is to go quite away from them, -even for an hour; and the other was that she wanted me to wear the -nurse's cap and apron. She was real good and kind; but when I said, -'Would you like your sister, Miss Louise, to put on cap and apron when -she goes out with them?' she got very red, and straightened up. 'It's a -very different matter,' she said; 'you must not forget that in accepting -a servant's place you accept a servant's limitations.' That finished me. -I loved the children, but I said, 'If you have no other thought of what -I am to the children than that, I had better go.' I went, and she put a -common, uneducated Irish girl in my place. I know a good many who would -take nurse's places, and who are sensible enough not to want to push -into the family life. But the trouble is that almost every one wants to -make a show, and it is more stylish to have the nurse in a cap and -apron, and so she is ordered into them." - -"I've tried it," said one who had been a dressmaker and found her health -going from long sitting. "My trouble was, no conscience as to hours; and -I believe you'll find that is, at the bottom, one of the chief -objections. My first employer was a smart, energetic woman, who had done -her own work when she was first married and knew what it meant, or you'd -think she might have known. But she had no more thought for me than if I -had been a machine. She'd sit in her sitting-room on the second floor -and ring for me twenty times a day to do little things, and she wanted -me up till eleven to answer the bell, for she had a great deal of -company. I had a good room and everything nice, and she gave me a great -many things, but I'd have spared them all if only I could have had a -little time to myself. I was all worn out, and at last I had to go. -There was another reason. I had no place but the kitchen to see my -friends. I was thirty years old and as well born and well educated as -she, and it didn't seem right. The mistresses think it's all the girls' -fault, but I've seen enough to know that women haven't found out what -justice means, and that a girl knows it, many a time, better than her -employer. Anyway, you couldn't make me try it again." - -"My trouble was," said another, who had been in a cotton-mill and gone -into the home of one of the mill-owners as chambermaid, "I hadn't any -place that I could be alone a minute. We were poor at home, and four of -us worked in the mill, but I had a little room all my own, even if it -didn't hold much. In that splendid big house the servants' room was over -the kitchen,--hot and close in summer, and cold in winter, and four beds -in it. We five had to live there together, with only two bureaus and a -bit of a closet, and one washstand for all. There was no chance to keep -clean or your things in nice order, or anything by yourself, and I gave -up. Then I went into a little family and tried general housework, and -the mistress taught me a great deal, and was good and kind, only there -the kitchen was a dark little place and my room like it, and I hadn't an -hour in anything that was pleasant and warm. A mistress might see, you'd -think, when a girl was quiet and fond of her home, and treat her -different from the kind that destroy everything; but I suppose the truth -is, they're worn out with that kind and don't make any difference. It's -hard to give up your whole life to somebody else's orders, and always -feel as if you was looked at over a wall like; but so it is, and you -won't get girls to try it, till somehow or other things are different." - -Last on the record came a young woman born in Pennsylvania in a fairly -well-to-do farmer's house. - -"I like house-work," she said. "There's nothing suits me so well. We -girls never had any money, nor mother either, and so I went into a -water-cure near the Gap and stayed awhile. Now the man that run it -believed in all being one family. He called the girls helpers, and he -fixed things so't each one had some time to herself every day, and he -tried to teach 'em all sorts of things. The patients were cranky to wait -on, but you felt as if you was a human being, anyhow, and had a chance. -Well, I watched things, and I said it was discouraging, sure enough. I -tried to do a square day's work, but two-thirds of 'em there shirked -whenever they could; half did things and then lied to cover their -tracks. I was there nine months, and I learned better'n ever I knew -before how folks ought to live on this earth. And I said to myself the -fault wasn't so much in the girls that hadn't ever been taught; it was -in them that didn't know enough to teach 'em. A girl thought it was -rather pretty and independent, and showed she was somebody, to sling -dishes on the table, and never say 'ma'am' nor 'sir,' and dress up -afternoons and make believe they hadn't a responsibility on earth. They -hadn't sense enough to do anything first-rate, for nobody had ever put -any decent ambition into 'em. It isn't to do work well; it's to get -somehow to a place where there won't be any more work. So I say that -it's the way of living and thinking that's all wrong; and that as soon -as you get it ciphered out and plain before you that any woman, high or -low, is a mean sneak that doesn't do everything in the best way she can -possibly learn, and that doesn't try to help everybody to feel just so, -why, things would stop being crooked and folks would get along well -enough. Don't you think so?" - -How far the energetic speaker had solved the problem must be left to the -reader, for whom there still certain unconsidered phases, all making -part of the arraignment, scouted by those who are served, but more and -more distinct and formidable in the mind of the server. - - - - -CHAPTER TWENTIETH. - -MORE PROBLEMS OF DOMESTIC SERVICE. - - -Though the testimony given in the preceding chapter on this topic -includes the chief objection to be made by the class of workers who -would seem to be most benefited by accepting household service, there -remain still one or two phases seldom mentioned, but forming an -essential portion of the argument against it. They belong, not to the -order we have had under consideration, but to that below it from which -the mass of domestic servants is recruited, and with which the -housekeeper must most often deal. - -The phases encountered here are born of the conditions of life in the -cities and large towns; and denied as they may be by quiet householders -whose knowledge of life is bounded by their own walls, or walls -enclosing neighbors of like mind, they exist and face at once all who -look below the surface. The testimony of the class itself might be open -to doubt. The testimony of the physicians whose work lies among them, or -in the infirmaries to which they come, cannot be impugned. Shirk or deny -facts as we may, it is certain that in the great cities, save for the -comparatively small proportion of quiet homes where old methods still -prevail, household service has become synonymous with the worst -degradation that comes to woman. Women who have been in service, and -remained in it contentedly until marriage, unite in saying that things -have so changed that only here and there is a young girl safe, and that -domestic service is the cover for more licentiousness than can be found -in any other trade in which women are at work. - -Incredible as this statement at first appears, the statistics of -hospitals and in infirmaries confirm it, and the causes are not far to -seek. Household service has passed from the hands of Americans into -those of the Irish first, and then a proportion of every European -nation. So long as the supply came to us entirely from abroad we were -comparatively safe. If the experience of the new arrival had been solely -under thatched roof and on clay floors, at least sun could visit them -and great chimneys gave currents of pure air, while simple food kept -blood pure and gave small chance for unruly impulses to govern. But once -with us demoralization began, and the tenement-house guaranteed sure -corruption for every tenant. Even for the most decent there was small -escape. To the children born in these quarters every inmost fact of -human life was from the beginning a familiar story. Overcrowding, the -impossibility of slightest privacy, the constant contact with the -grossest side of life, soon deaden any susceptibility and destroy every -gleam of modesty or decency. In the lowest order of all rules an -absolute shamelessness which conceals itself in the grade above, yet has -no less firm hold of those who have come up in such conditions. - -There are many exceptions, many well-fought battles against their power, -but our concern at present is not with these but with facts as they -stand recorded. Physician after physician has given in her testimony and -one and all agree in the statement that open prostitution is for many -merely the final step,--a mere setting the seal to the story of ruin and -licentiousness that has always existed. The women who adopt this mode of -life because of want of work or low wages are the smallest of -minorities. The illegitimate children for whom the city must care are -not from this source. Often the mother is a mere child who has been -deceived and outraged, but far more often she has entered a family -prepared to meet any advances, and often directly the tempter. - -It is this state of things which makes many mothers say: "My girl shall -never run such risks. I'll keep her from them as long as I can;" and -unsavory as the details will seem, their knowledge is an essential -factor in the problem. The tenement-house stands to-day not only as the -breeder of disease and physical degeneration for every inmate, but as -equally potent in social demoralization for the class who ignore its -existence. Out of these houses come hundreds upon hundreds of our -domestic servants, whose influence is upon our children at the most -impressible age, and who bring inherited and acquired foulness into our -homes and lives. And if such make but the smallest proportion of those -who serve, they are none the less powerful and most formidable agents in -that blunting of moral perception which is a more and more apparent fact -in the life of the day. The records from which such knowledge is gleaned -are not accessible to the general public. They are formulated only by -the physician, whose business is silence, and who gives only an -occasional summary of what may be found in the sewer underlying the -social life of great cities. Decorously hidden from view the foul stream -flows on, rising here and there to the surface, but instantly covered by -popular opinion, which pronounces such revelations disgusting and -considers suppression synonymous with extermination. - -Naturally this phase of things is confined chiefly to the great cities, -but the virus is portable and its taint may be discovered even in the -remote country. It is one of the many causes that have worked toward the -degradation of this form of service, but it is so interwoven and -integral a part of the present social structure that temporary -destruction would seem the inevitable result of change. Yet change must -come before the only class who have legitimate place in our homes will -or can take such place. If different ideals had ruled among us; if ease -and freedom from obligation and "a good time" had not come to be the -chief end of man to-day; if our schools gave any training from which boy -or girl could go out into life with the best in them developed and ready -for actual practical use,--this mass of undisciplined, conscienceless, -reckless force would have been reduced to its lowest terms, and to -dispose of the residuum would be an easy problem. As it is, we are at -the mercy of the spirits we have raised, and no one word holds power to -lay them. No axioms or theories of the past have any present -application. It is because we cling to the old theories while diligently -practising methods in absolute opposition to them, that the question has -so complicated itself. We cannot go backward, but we can stop short and -discover in what direction our path is tending and whether we are not -wandering blindly in by-ways, when the public road is clear to see. - -It is certain that many among the most intelligent working-women look -longingly toward domestic service as something that might offer much -more individual possibility of comfort and contentment than the trades -afford. But save for one here and there who has chanced to find an -employer who knows the meaning of justice as well as of human sympathy, -the mass turn away hopeless of any change in methods. Yet reform among -intelligent employers could easily be brought about were the question -treated from the standpoint of justice, and the demand made an equally -imperative and binding one for each side. The mistresses who command the -best service are those who make rigorous demands, but keep their own -side of the bargain as rigorously. They are few, for the American -temperament is one of submission, varied by sudden bursts of revolt, and -despairing return to a worse state than the first. A training-school -school for mistresses is as much an essential as one for the servants. -The conditions of modern life come more complicated with every year; and -as simplification becomes for the many less and less possible, it is all -the more vitally necessary to study the subject from the new standpoint, -settle once for all how and why we have failed, and begin again on the -new foundation. - -Here then stands the arraignment of domestic service under its present -conditions, given point by point as it has formulated itself to those -who urged to turn to it. The mistresses' side defines itself as sharply; -but when all is said the two are one, the demand one and the same for -both. Men who work for wages work a specified number of hours, and if -they shirk or half fulfil their contract, find work taken from them. -Were the same arrangement understood as equally binding in domestic -service, thousands of self-respecting women would not hesitate to enter -it. Family life cannot always move in fixed lines, and hours must often -vary; but conscientious tally could be kept, and over-hours receive the -pay they have earned. A conscience on both sides would be the first -necessity; and it is quite certain that the master of the house would -require education as decidedly as the mistress, woman's work within home -walls being regarded as something continuous, indefinable, and not worth -formal estimate. - -In spite of the enormous increase of wealth, the mass are happily what, -for want of a better word, must be called middle class. But one servant -or helper can usually be kept, and most often she is one who has used -our kitchens as kindergartens, adding fragments of training as she -passed from one to the other, ending often as fairly serviceable and -competent. Sure of her place she becomes tyrant, and nothing can alter -this relation but the appearance upon the scene of organized trained -labor, making a demand for absolute fairness of treatment and giving it -in return. Once certain that the reign of incompetence was over, the -present order of servers would make haste to seek training-schools, or -accept the low wages which would include personal training from the -mistress, promotion being conditioned upon faithful obedience to the new -order. - -What are the stipulations which every self-respecting girl or woman has -the right to make? They are short and simple. They are absolutely -reasonable, and their adoption would be an education to every household -which accepted them:-- - -1. A definition of what a day's work means, and payment for all -over-time required, or certain hours of absolute freedom guaranteed, -especially where the position is that of child's nurse. - -2. A comfortably warmed and decently furnished room, with separate beds -if two occupy it, and both decent place and appointments for meals. - -3. The heaviest work, such as carrying coal, scrubbing pavements, -washing, etc., to be arranged for if this is asked, with a consequent -deduction in the wages. - -4. No livery if there is feeling against it. - -5. The privilege of seeing friends in a better part of the house than -the kitchen, and security from any espionage during such time, whether -the visitors are male or female. This to be accompanied by reasonable -restrictions as to hours, and with the condition that work is not to be -neglected. - -6. Such a manner of speaking to and of the server as shall show that -there is no contempt for housework, and that it is actually as -respectable as other occupations. - -Were such a schedule as this printed, framed, and hung in every kitchen -in the land, and its provisions honestly met, household revolution and -anarchy would cease, and the whole question settle itself quietly and -once for all. And this in spite of a thousand inherent difficulties -known to every housekeeper, but which would prove self-adjusting so soon -as it was learned that service had found a rational basis. At present, -with the majority of mistresses, it is simply unending struggle to get -the most out of the unwilling and grudging server, hopelessly -unreasonable and giving warning on faintest provocation. Yet these very -women, turning to factory life, where fixed and inexorable law rules -with no appeal, submit at once and become often skilled and capable -workers. It is certain that domestic service must learn organization as -every other form of industry has learned it, and that mistresses must -submit to something of the same training that is needed by the maid. Nor -need it be feared that putting such service on a strictly business basis -will destroy such kindliness as now helps to make the relation less -intolerable. On the contrary, with justice the foundation and a rigorous -fulfilment of duty on both sides will come a far closer tie than exists -save in rarest instances, and homes will regain a quality long ago -vanished from our midst. Such training will be the first step toward the -co-operation which must be the ultimate solution of many social -problems. - -It has failed in many earlier attempts because personal justice was -lacking; but even one generation of sustained effort to simplify -conditions would insure not only a different ideal for those who think -at all, but the birth of something better for every child of the -Republic. - -For the individual standing alone, hampered by many cares and distracted -over the whole household problem, action may seem impossible. But if -the most rational members of a community would band together, send -prejudice and tradition to the winds, and make a new declaration of -independence for the worker, it is certain that the tide would turn and -a new order begin. Till such united, concerted action can be brought -about there is small hope of reform, and it can come only through women. -Dismiss sentiment. Learn to look at the thing as a trade in which each -seeks her own advantage, and in which each gains the more clearly these -advantages are defined. It is a hard relation. It demands every power -that woman can bring to bear upon it. It is an education of the highest -faculties she owns. It means a double battle, for it is with ourselves -that the fight begins. Liberty can only come through personal struggle. -It is easy to die for it, but to live for it, to deserve it, to defend -it forever is another and a harder matter. Still harder is it to know -its full meaning and what it is that makes the battle worth fighting. -Union to such ends will be slow, but it must come:-- - - "Freedom is growth and not creation: - One man suffers, one man is free. - One brain forges a constitution, - But how shall the million souls be won? - Freedom is more than a revolution-- - He is not free who is free alone." - -Is this the word of a dreamer whose imagination holds the only work of -reconstruction, and whose hands are powerless to make the dream -reality? On the contrary, many years of experience in which few of the -usual troubles were encountered, added to that of others who had thought -out the problem for themselves, have demonstrated that reform is -possible. Precisely such conditions as are here specified have been in -practical operation for many years. The homes in which they have ruled -have had the unfailing devotion of those who served, and the experiment -has ceased to come under that head, and demonstrated that order and -peace and quiet mastery of the day's work may still be American -possessions. Count this imperfect presentation then as established fact -for a few, and ask why it is not possible to make it so for the many. - - - - -CHAPTER TWENTY-FIRST. - -END AND BEGINNING. - - -The long quest is over. It ends; and I turn at last from those women, -whose eyes still follow me, filled with mute question of what good may -come. Of all ages and nations and creeds, all degrees of ignorance and -prejudice and stupidity; hampered by every condition of birth and -training; powerless to rise beyond them till obstacles are removed,--the -great city holds them all, and in pain and want and sorrow they are one. -The best things of life are impossible to them. What is worse, they are -unknown as well as unattainable. If the real good of life must be -measured by the final worth of the thing we make or get by it, what -worth is there for or in them? The city holds them all,--"the great foul -city,--rattling, growling, smoking, stinking,--a ghastly heap of -fermenting brickwork, pouring out poison at every pore." - -The prosperous have no such definition, nor do they admit that it can be -true. For the poor, it is the only one that can have place. We pack them -away in tenements crowded and foul beyond anything known even to -London, whose "Bitter Cry" had less reason than ours; and we have taken -excellent care that no foot of ground shall remain that might mean -breathing-space, or free sport of child, or any green growing thing. -Grass pushes its way here and there, but for this army it is only -something that at last they may lie under, never upon. There is no pause -in the march, where as one and another drops out the gap fills -instantly, every alley and by-way holding unending substitutes. It is -not labor that profiteth, for body and soul are alike starved. It is -labor in its basest, most degrading form; labor that is curse and never -blessing, as true work may be and is. It blinds the eyes. It steals away -joy. It blunts all power whether of hope or faith. It wrecks the body -and it starves the soul. It is waste and only waste; nor can it, below -ground or above, hold fructifying power for any human soul. - -Here then we face them,--ignorant, blind, stupid, incompetent in every -fibre,--and yet no count of such indictment alters our responsibility -toward them. Rather it multiplies it in always increasing ratio. For it -is our own system that has made these lives worthless, and sooner or -later we must answer how it came, that living in a civilized land they -had less chance than the heathen to whom we send our missionaries, and -upon whose occasional conversions we plume ourselves as if thus the -Kingdom of Heaven were made wider. If it is true that for many only a -little alleviation is possible, a little more justice, a little better -apportionment of such good as they can comprehend, it is also true that -something better is within the reach of all. - -How then shall we define it, and what possibility of alteration for -either lives or conditions lies before us? Nothing that can be of -instant growth; and here lies the chief discouragement, since as a -people we demand instantaneousness, and would have seed, flower, and -fruit at the same moment. Admit patience, capacity to wait, and to work -while waiting, as the first term of the equation, and the rest arrange -themselves. - -For the greater part of social reformers, co-operation has stood as the -initial and most essential step, as the fruit that could be plucked -full-grown; and experience in England would seem to have demonstrated -the belief as true. It is the American inability to wait that has proved -it untrue for us, and until very lately made failure our only record; -but there is a deeper reason than a merely temperamental one. The -abolition of the apprentice system, brought about by the greed of master -and men alike, has abolished training and slow, steady preparation for -any trade. An American has been regarded as quick enough and keen enough -to take in the essential features of a calling, as it were, at a glance, -and apprenticeship has been taken as practically an insult to national -intelligence. Law has kept pace with such conviction, and thus the door -has been shut in the face of all learners, and foreigners have supplied -our skilled workmen and work-women. The groundwork of any better order -lies, if not in a return to the apprentice system, then in a training -from the beginning, which will give to eye and hand the utmost power of -which they are capable. Industrial education is the foundation, and -until it has in its broadest and deepest sense become the portion of -every child born on American soil, that child has missed its birthright. - -With the many who accept it, it stands merely as an added capacity to -make money, and if taken in its narrowest application this is all that -it can do. Were this all, it would be simply an added injustice toward -the degeneration that money-making for the mere sake of money inevitably -brings. But at its best, perfected as it has been by patient effort on -the part of a few believers, it is far more than this. Added power to -earn comes with it, but there comes also a love of the work itself, such -as has had no place since the days when the great guilds gave joyfully -their few hours daily to the cathedrals, whose stones were laid and -cemented in love and hope, and a knowledge of the beauty to come, that -long ago died out of any work the present knows. The builders had small -book knowledge. They could be talked down by any public-school child in -its second or third year. But they knew the meaning of beauty and order -and law; and this trinity stands to-day, and will stand for many a -generation to come, as an ideal to which we must return till like causes -work again to like ends. The child who could barely read saw beauty on -every side, and took in the store of ballad and tradition that gave life -to labor. We have parted with all this wilfully. To the Puritan all -beauty that hand of man could create was of the devil, and thus we -represent a consecrated ugliness, any departure from which is even now, -by some conscientious souls, regarded with suspicion. - -The child, then, who can be made to understand that beauty and order and -law are one, has a new sense born in him. Life takes on a new aspect, -and work a new meaning. But the fourteen weeks per year of education, at -present required by our law as it stands in its application to children -who must work, has no power to bring such result. It begins in the -kindergarten, from which the poorest child takes home, even to the -tenement-house, something strong enough, when growth has come, to -abolish the tenement-house forever. No man who works to these ends has -gauged possibilities more wisely than Felix Adler, whose school shows us -something not yet attained by the many who, partially accepting his -methods, pronounce his theories dangerous and destructive to what must -be held sacred. However this may be, he and his band of co-workers have -proved, in seven years of unceasing struggle against heavy odds, that a -development is possible even for the tenement-house child, that -reconstructs the entire view of life and makes possible the end for -which all industrial training is but the preparation. It is in such -training that children, rich or poor, best learn the demand bound up in -living and working together, and find in the end that co-operation is -its natural out-growth. There is no renunciation of the home or -destruction of the truest home life. There is simply the abolition of -competition as any necessary factor in human progress, and the placing -of the worker beyond its power to harm. - -Thus far we have left the bettering of social conditions chiefly to the -individual, and any hint of State interference carries with it the -opprobrium of socialism. Yet more and more for those who are unterrified -by names, the best in socialism offers itself as the sole way of escape -from monopolies and the stupidities and outrages of the present system. -No one panacea of any reformer fits the case or can alter existing -conditions. Only what man's own soul sees as good, and wills to possess, -is of faintest value to him. No attempt at co-operation can help till -the worker sees its power and use, and is willing to sacrifice where -sacrifice is necessary, to work and to wait in patience. Such power is -born in the industrial school in its largest sense,--the school that -trains heart and mind as well eye and hand, and makes the child ready -for the best work its measure of power can know. This we can give by -State or by individual aid, as the case may be, and every ward in the -city should own a sufficient number to include every child within it. A -check upon emigration would seem an imperative demand,--not prevention, -but some clause which might act to lessen the garbage-heaps dumped upon -our shores. Pauperism and disease have no rights as emigrants, and -eliminating these would make dealing with mere poverty a much more -manageable matter. - -The schools exist, and, while painfully inadequate in number, -demonstrate what may be done in the future. Co-operation even for this -hasty people is almost equally demonstrated, as will be plain to those -who read two recent publications of the American Economic Association: -"Co-operation in a Western City," by Albert Shaw, and "Co-operation in -New England," by Edward W. Bemis. Minneapolis is the centre of the facts -given in the first-mentioned pamphlet, which is also the more valuable -of the two, not in execution but merely because it records a movement -which has ceased to be experimental; as the little history includes -every failure as well as the final success, and thus stands as the best -argument yet made for the cause. - -Industrial education for the child of to-day; co-operation as the end to -be attained by the worker into which the child will grow,--in these two -factors is bound up much of the problem. They will not touch many whose -miserable lives are recorded in these pages, but they will forever end -any chance of another generation in like case. There are workers who -think, who are being educated by sharp conflict with circumstances, and -who look beyond their own present need to the future. These men and -women, crowded to the wall by the present system, are searching eagerly, -not as mere anarchists and destroyers, but as those who believe that -something better than destruction is possible. - -It is these workers for whom the path must be made plain, and to whom we -are most heavily responsible. And this brings me to the final point -bound up indissolubly with the two already defined,--a change in our own -ideals. Such change must come before any school can accomplish its best -work, and till it has at least begun neither school nor system has -lasting power. In these months of search in which women of all ages and -grades have given in their testimony,--from the girl of fourteen earning -her two or three dollars a week in the bag-factory or as cash-girl, to -the woman stitching her remnant of life into the garments that by and by -her more fortunate sisters will find on the bargain counter,--I discover -not alone their ignorance and stupidity and grossness and wilful -blindness, but behind it an ignorance and stupidity no less dense upon -which theirs is founded,--our own. The visible wretchedness is so -appalling, the need for instant relief so pressing, that it is small -wonder that no power remains to look beyond the moment, or to -disentangle one's self from the myriad conflicting claims, and ask the -real meaning of the demand. Mile after mile of the fair islands once the -charm of the East River and the great Sound beyond are covered by -lazar-houses,--the visible signs in this great equation that fills the -page of to-day; the problem of human crime and disease and wretchedness -complicating itself with every addition, and no nearer solution than -when the city was but a handful of houses and poverty yet unknown. - -We have made attempts here and there to limit the breeding ground; to -offer less fruitful soil to the spawn increasing with such frightful -rapidity, and demanding with every year fresh reformatories, larger -asylums and hospitals, more and more machinery of alleviation. Yet the -conviction strengthens that even when the tenement-house of to-day is -swept aside, and improved homes with decent sanitary conditions have -taken their place, that the root of the evil is even then untouched, and -that it lies not alone in their lives, but in our own. And so, as final -word, I say to-day to all women who give their lives to beneficence, and -plan ceaselessly and untiringly for better days, that no beneficence can -alter, no work of our hands or desire of our hearts bring the better day -we desire, till the foundations have been laid in something less -shifting than the sands on which we build. - -The mission of alleviation, of protection, of care for the foulest and -lowest of lives, has had its day. It is time that this mass of effort -stirred against its perpetual reproduction, its existence, its ever more -and more shameless demands. An improved home goes far toward making -these tendencies less strong; it may even diminish the number of actual -transgressors; but what home, no matter how well kept, has or will have -power to alter the fact that in them thousands of women must still slave -for a pittance that borders always on that life limit fixed by the -political economists as the vanishing point in the picture of modern -life? Sunlight and air may take the place of the foulness now reigning -in the dens that many of them know as homes; but will either sun or air -shorten hours or raise wages, or alter the fact that not one in a -thousand of these women but has grounded her whole pitiful life on a -delusion,--a delusion for which we are responsible? - -Year by year in the story of the Republic, labor has taken lower and -lower place. The passion for getting on, latent in every drop of -American blood, has made money the sole symbol of success, and freedom -from hand-labor the synonyme of happiness. The mass of illiterate, -unenlightened emigrants pouring in a steady stream through Castle Garden -have become our hands, and, as hands dependent on the heads of others, -have fallen into the same category as the slaves, whose possession -brought infinitely more degradation to owners than to owned. It is the -story of every civilized nation before its fall,--this exploitation of -labor, this degradation of the worker; and the story of hopeless decay -and collapse must be ours also, if different ideals do not rise to fill -the place of this Golden Calf to which all have bent the knee. There is -not a girl old enough to work at all who does not dream of a possible -future in which work will cease and ease and luxury take its place. The -boy content with a trade, the man or woman accepting simple living and -its limitations contentedly, is counted fool. To get money, and always -more and more money, is the one ambition; and in this mad rush toward -the golden fountain, gentle virtues are trampled under foot, and men -count no armor of honest thought worth wearing unless it be fringed with -bullion. The shop-girl must have her cotton velvet and her glass -substitutes for diamonds. The lines of caste are drawn as sharply with -her as in the ascending grades through which she hopes to pass. Labor is -curse; never the blessing that it may bear when accepted man's chief -good, and used as developing, not as destroying power. - -Never till men see and believe that the fortune made by mere sharpness -and unscrupulousness, the fruit not of honest labor but of pure -speculation, is a burning disgrace to its owner, a plague-spot in -civilization, shall we be able to convince girl or woman that labor is -honorable, and better gains possible than any involved in merely getting -on. Never till this furious fight for success, this system of -competition which kills all regard for the individual, demanding only a -machine capable of so much net product,--never till these and all -methods of like nature have ceased to have place, or right to existence, -can we count ourselves civilized or hope to better the conditions that -now baffle us. No church, no mission, no improved home, no guild or any -other form of mitigation means anything till the whole system of thought -is reconstructed, and we come to some sense of what the eternal verities -really are. - -It is easy for a woman to be kind and long-suffering, but the women who -can be just to themselves, as well as to others, we can count on our -fingers. Yet justice is the one demand in this life of to-day, and not -one of us who shrinks and shudders at the thought of what women-workers -are enduring but has it in her power to lessen the great sum of -wretchedness; to begin for some one the work of education into just -thinking and just living. Sweeping changes may not be possible. But -beginning is always possible; and not a woman capable of thinking but -has power by the simple force of example to lay the corner-stone of the -new temple, fairer than any yet known to mortal eyes. If there is doubt -for this generation of working-women toiling in blindest ignorance, it -rests with us to lessen the doubt for the next, and to make it -impossible in that better day for which we labor. Not one of us but can -ask, "What is the source of the income which gives me ease? Is it -possible for me to reconstruct my own life in such fashion that it shall -mean more direct and personal relation to the worker? How can I bring -more simplicity, less conventionality, more truth and right living into -home and every relation of life?" - -I write these final words with all deference to the noble women whose -lives have been given to good work, and many of whom long ago settled -these questions practically for themselves. But for many of us there has -been simply passive acceptance of all present conditions, without a -question as to how or why they have come. It is because I believe that -with us is the power to remedy every one if we will, that I appeal to -women to-day. I write not as anarchist; not as declaimer against the -rights of property, but as believer in the full right to ownership of -all legitimately acquired property. I believe it the order of life, of -any life that would hold good work of whatever nature, that enough -should be acquired to make sharp want or eating care and perplexity -impossible. But it is certain that even for the most unselfish of us -there is an exaggerated estimate of the value of money,--an involuntary -and inevitable truckling to the one who has most,--and that, no matter -what our teaching may be, the force of every act and tendency makes -against it. And there can be no retracing of steps that have for -generations turned in the wrong direction. The very breath we draw on -this American soil is poisoned by the foulness about us, and about us by -our own act and choice. We have degraded labor till there is no lower -depth, and not one but many generations must pass before these masses -over whose condition we puzzle can find their feet in the path that -means any real progress. - -Ask first, then, not what shall we do for these women, but what shall we -do for ourselves? How shall we learn to know what are the real things? -How shall we come to love them and cleave to them, and hold no life -worth living that admits sham or compromise, or believes the mad luxury -of this generation anything but blighting curse and surest destruction? -Till we know this we have learned nothing, and are forever not helpers, -but hinderers, in the great march that our blunders and stupidities only -check for the time. For the word is forever onward, and even the -blindest soul must one day see that if he will not walk by free choice -in the path of God, he will be driven into it with whips of scorpions, -made thus to know what part was given him to fill, and what judgment -waits him who has chosen blindness. - - -University Press: John Wilson & Son, Cambridge. - - - - -MRS. CAMPBELL'S BOOKS. - - -THE WHAT-TO-DO CLUB. A Story for Girls. 16mo. $1.50. - -MRS. HERNDON'S INCOME. A Novel. 16mo. $1.50. - -MISS MELINDA'S OPPORTUNITY. A Story for Girls. 16mo. $1.00. (Paper, 50 -cents.) - -PRISONERS OF POVERTY. Women Wage-workers, their Trades and their Lives. -12mo. $1.00. (Paper, 50 cents.) - -PRISONERS OF POVERTY ABROAD. 16mo. $1.00. (Paper, 50 cents.) - -ROGER BERKELEY'S PROBATION. A Story. 12mo. $1.00. (Paper, 50 cents.) - -WOMEN WAGE-EARNERS. Their Past, their Present, and their Future. 16mo. -$1.00. - -THE EASIEST WAY IN HOUSEKEEPING AND COOKING. Adapted to Domestic Use or -Study in Classes. A new revised edition. 16mo. $1.00. - -IN FOREIGN KITCHENS. With Choice Recipes from England, France, Germany, -Italy, and the North. 50 cents. - -SOME PASSAGES IN THE PRACTICE OF DR. MARTHA SCARBOROUGH. 16mo. $1.00. - - -_These books will be mailed, post-paid, on receipt of the price by the -Publishers_, - -LITTLE, BROWN, & COMPANY, - -254 Washington Street, Boston, Mass. - -_Terms for quantities, or for class use, will be sent on application._ - - - - -MRS. HERNDON'S INCOME. A NOVEL. - -BY HELEN CAMPBELL. AUTHOR OF "THE WHAT-TO-DO CLUB." - -One volume. 16mo. Cloth. $1.50. - -"Confirmed novel-readers who have regarded fiction as created for -amusement and luxury alone, lay down this book with a new and serious -purpose in life. The social scientist reads it, and finds the solution -of many a tangled problem; the philanthropist finds in it direction and -counsel. A novel written with a purpose, of which never for an instant -does the author lose sight, it is yet absorbing in its interest. It -reveals the narrow motives and the intrinsic selfishness of certain -grades of social life; the corruption of business methods; the 'false, -fairy gold,' of fashionable charities, and 'advanced' thought. Margaret -Wentworth is a typical New England girl, reflective, absorbed, full of -passionate and repressed intensity under a quiet and apparently cold -exterior. The events that group themselves about her life are the -natural result of such a character brought into contact with real life. -The book cannot be too widely read."--_Boston Traveller._ - -"If the 'What-to-do Club' was clever, this is decidedly more so. It is a -powerful story, and is evidently written in some degree, we cannot quite -say how great a degree, from fact. The personages of the story are very -well drawn,--indeed, 'Amanda Briggs' is as good as anything American -fiction has produced. We fancy we could pencil on the margin the real -names of at least half the characters. It is a book for the wealthy to -read that they may know something that is required of them, because it -does not ignore the difficulties in their way, and especially does not -overlook the differences which social standing puts between class and -class. It is a deeply interesting story considered as mere fiction, one -of the best which has lately appeared. We hope the authoress will go on -in a path where she has shown herself so capable."--_The Churchman._ - -"In Mrs. Campbell's novel we have a work that is not to be judged by -ordinary standards. The story holds the reader's interest by its -realistic pictures of the local life around us, by its constant and -progressive action, and by the striking dramatic quality of scenes and -incidents, described in a style clear, connected, and harmonious. The -novel-reader who is not taken up and made to share the author's -enthusiasm before getting half-way through the book must possess a taste -satiated and depraved by indulgence in exciting and sensational fiction. -The earnestness of the author's presentation of essentially great -purposes lends intensity to her narrative. Succeeding as she does in -impressing us strongly with her convictions, there is nothing of -dogmatism in their preaching. But the suggestiveness of every chapter is -backed by pictures of real life."--_New York World._ - - -_Sold by all booksellers. Mailed, post-paid, on receipt of price, by the -publishers_, - -LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY, BOSTON. - - - - -MISS MELINDA'S OPPORTUNITY. - -A STORY. - -BY HELEN CAMPBELL, - -AUTHOR OF "THE WHAT-TO-DO CLUB," "MRS. HERNDON'S INCOME," "PRISONERS OF -POVERTY." - -16mo. Cloth, price, $1.00; paper covers, 50 cents. - -"Mrs. Helen Campbell has written 'Miss Melinda's Opportunity' with a -definite purpose in view, and this purpose will reveal itself to the -eyes of all of its philanthropic readers. The true aim of the story is -to make life more real and pleasant to the young girls who spend the -greater part of the day toiling in the busy stores of New York. Just as -in the 'What-to-do Club' the social level of village life was lifted -several grades higher, so are the little friendly circles of shop-girls -made to enlarge and form clubs in 'Miss Melinda's -Opportunity.'"--_Boston Herald._ - -"'Miss Melinda's Opportunity,' a story by Helen Campbell, is in a -somewhat lighter vein than are the earlier books of this clever author; -but it is none the less interesting and none the less realistic. The -plot is unpretentious, and deals with the simplest and most conventional -of themes: but the character-drawing is uncommonly strong, especially -that of Miss Melinda, which is a remarkably vigorous and interesting -transcript from real life, and highly finished to the slightest details. -There is much quiet humor in the book, and it is handled with skill and -reserve. Those who have been attracted to Mrs. Campbell's other works -will welcome the latest of them with pleasure and -satisfaction."--_Saturday Gazette._ - -"The best book that Helen Campbell has yet produced is her latest story, -'Miss Melinda's Opportunity,' which is especially strong in -character-drawing, and its life sketches are realistic and full of -vigor, with a rich vein of humor running through them. Miss Melinda is a -dear lady of middle life, who has finally found her opportunity to do a -great amount of good with her ample pecuniary means by helping those who -have the disposition to help themselves. The story of how some bright -and energetic girls who had gone to New York to earn their living put a -portion of their earnings into a common treasury, and provided -themselves with a comfortable home and good fare for a very small sum -per week, is not only of lively interest, but furnishes hints for other -girls in similar circumstances that may prove of great value. An -unpretentious but well-sustained plot runs through the book, with a -happy ending, in which Miss Melinda figures as the angel that she -is."--_Home Journal._ - - -_Sold by all booksellers. Mailed, post-paid, on receipt of price, by the -publishers_, - -LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY, BOSTON. - - - - -THE WHAT-TO-DO CLUB. - -A STORY FOR GIRLS. - -BY HELEN CAMPBELL. - -16mo. Cloth. Price $1.50. - -"'The What-to-do Club' is an unpretending story. It introduces us to a -dozen or more village girls of varying ranks. One has had superior -opportunities; another exceptional training; two or three have been -'away to school;' some are farmers' daughters; there is a teacher, two -or three poor self-supporters,--in fact, about such an assemblage as any -town between New York and Chicago might give us. But while there is a -large enough company to furnish a delightful coterie, there is -absolutely no social life among them.... Town and country need more -improving, enthusiastic work to redeem them from barrenness and -indolence. Our girls need a chance to do independent work, to study -practical business, to fill their minds with other thoughts than the -petty doings of neighbors. A What-to-do Club is one step toward higher -village life. It is one step toward disinfecting a neighborhood of the -poisonous gossip which floats like a pestilence around localities which -ought to furnish the most desirable homes in our country."--_The -Chautauquan._ - -"'The What-to-do Club' is a delightful story for girls, especially for -New England girls, by Helen Campbell. The heroine of the story is Sybil -Waite, the beautiful, resolute, and devoted daughter of a broken-down -but highly educated Vermont lawyer. The story shows how much it is -possible for a well-trained and determined young woman to accomplish -when she sets out to earn her own living, or help others. Sybil begins -with odd jobs of carpentering, and becomes an artist in woodwork. She is -first jeered at, then admired, and finally loved by a worthy man. The -book closes pleasantly with John claiming Sybil as his own. The labors -of Sybil and her friends and of the New Jersey 'Busy Bodies,' which are -said to be actual facts, ought to encourage many young women to more -successful competition in the battles of life."--_Golden Rule._ - -"In the form of a story, this book suggests ways in which young women -may make money at home, with practical directions for so doing. Stories -with a moral are not usually interesting, but this one is an exception -to the rule. The narrative is lively, the incidents probable and -amusing, the characters well-drawn, and the dialects various and -characteristic. Mrs. Campbell is a natural story-teller, and has the -gift of making a tale interesting. Even the recipes for pickles and -preserves, evaporating fruits, raising poultry, and keeping bees, are -made poetic and invested with a certain ideal glamour, and we are -thrilled and absorbed by an array of figures of receipts and -expenditures, equally with the changeful incidents of flirtation, -courtship, and matrimony. Fun and pathos, sense and sentiment, are -mingled throughout, and the combination has resulted in one of the -brightest stories of the season."--_Woman's Journal._ - - -_Sold by all booksellers. Mailed, post-paid, by publishers_, - -LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY, BOSTON. - - - - -SOME PASSAGES IN THE PRACTICE OF DR. MARTHA SCARBOROUGH. - -BY HELEN CAMPBELL. - -_16mo. Cloth. Price, $1.00._ - -Besides being equal to Mrs. Campbell's best work in the past, it is -strikingly original in presenting the ethics of the body as imperiously -claiming recognition in the radical cure of inebriety. It forces -attention to the physical and spiritual value of foods, and weaves -precedent and precept into one of the most beguiling stories of recent -date. - -It is the gospel of good food, with the added influence of fresh air, -sunlight, cleanliness, and physical exercise that occupy profitably the -attention of Helen Campbell. Martha is a baby when the story begins, and -a child not yet in her teens when the narrative comes to an end, but she -has a salutary power over many lives. Her father is a wise country -physician, who makes his chaise, in his daily progress about the hills, -serve as his little daughter's cradle and kindergarten. When she gets -old enough to understand her expounds to her his views of the sins -committed against hygiene, and his lessons sink into an appreciative -mind. When he encounters particularly hard cases she applies his -principles with unfailing logic, and is able to suggest helpful means of -cure. The old doctor is delightfully sagacious in demonstrating how the -confirmed pie-eater marries the tea inebriate, with the result in -doughnut-devouring, dyspeptic, and consumptive offspring. "What did they -die of?" asked little Martha, in the village graveyard; and her father -answers solemnly, "Intemperance." So Martha declares that she will be a -"food doctor," and later on she helps her father in saving several -victims of strong drink. The book is one that should find hosts of -earnest readers, for its admonitions are sadly needed, not in the -country alone, but in the city, where, if better ideas of diet prevail, -people have yet as a rule a long way to go before they attain the path -of wisdom. Meanwhile it remains true, as Mrs. Campbell makes Dr. -Scarborough declare, that the cabbage soup and black bread of the -poorest French peasants are really better suited to the sustenance of -healthy life than the "messes" that pass for food in many parts of rural -New England.--_The Beacon._ - - -_Sold by all Booksellers. Mailed, post-paid, on receipt of price, by the -publishers_, - -LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY, BOSTON. - - - - -ROGER BERKELEY'S PROBATION. - -A Story. - -BY HELEN CAMPBELL, - -_Author of "Prisoners of Poverty," "Mrs. Herndon's Income," "Miss -Melinda's Opportunity," "The What-to-do Club," etc._ - -16mo, cloth, price, $1.00; paper, 50 cents. - -This story is on the scale of a cabinet picture. It presents interesting -figures, natural situations, and warm colors. Written in a quiet key, it -is yet moving, and the letter from Bolton describing the fortunate sale -of Roger's painting of "The Factory Bell" sends a tear of sympathetic -joy to the reader's eye. Roger Berkeley was a young American art student -in Paris, called home by the mortal sickness of his mother, and detained -at home by the spendthriftness of his father and the embarrassment that -had overtaken the family affairs through the latter cause. A concealed -mortgage on the old homestead, the mysterious disappearance of a package -of bonds intended for Roger's student use, and the paralytic incapacity -of the father to give the information which his conscience prompted him -to give, have a share in the development of the story. Roger is obliged -for the time to abandon his art work, and takes a situation in a mill; -and this trying diversion from his purpose is his "probation." How he -profits by this loss is shown in the result. The mill-life gives Mrs. -Campbell opportunity to express herself characteristically in behalf of -down-trodden "labor." The whole story is simple, natural, sweet, and -tender; and the figures of Connie, poor little cripple, and Miss Medora -Flint, angular and snappish domestic, lend picturesqueness to its group -of characters.--_Literary World._ - - -_Sold by all Booksellers. Mailed, postpaid, on receipt of price, by the -Publishers_, - -LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY, BOSTON. - - - - -PRISONERS OF POVERTY ABROAD - -By HELEN CAMPBELL, - -AUTHOR OF "THE WHAT-TO-DO-CLUB," "PRISONERS OF POVERTY," "ROGER -BERKELEY'S PROBATION," ETC. - -_16mo. Cloth. Price, $1.00; paper, 50 cents._ - -Mrs. Helen Campbell, an occasional and valued contributor to this -journal, and the author of "Prisoners of Poverty," and other studies of -social questions in this country, has offered in this book conclusions -drawn from investigations on the same themes made abroad, principally in -England or France. She has devoted personal attention and labor to the -work, and, although much of what she describes has been depicted before -by others, she tells her story with a freshness and an earnestness which -give it exceptional interest and value. Her volume is one of testimony. -She does not often attempt to philosophize, but to state facts as they -are, so that they may plead their own cause. She puts before the reader -a series of pictures, vividly drawn, but carefully guarded from -exaggeration or distortion, that he may form his own -opinions.--_Congregationalist._ - -Can life be worth living to the hordes of miserable women who have to -work from fifteen to eighteen hours a day for a wage of from twenty-five -to thirty-five or forty cents? And what have all the study of political -economy, all the writing of treatises about labor, all the Parliamentary -debates, all the blue books, all the philanthropic organizations, all -the appeals to a common humanity, done, in half a century, for these -victims of what is called modern civilization? Mrs. Campbell is by no -means a sentimentalist. We know of no one who examines facts more coolly -and practically, or who labors more earnestly to find the real causes -for the continued depression of the labor market, as this horrible state -of things is euphemistically termed. The conclusions she reaches are -therefore sober and trustworthy.--_New York Tribune._ - -No work of fiction, however imaginative, could present more startling -pictures than does this little book, which is sympathetic, but not -sentimental, the result of personal investigation, and a most valuable -contribution to the literature of the labor question.--_Philadelphia -Record._ - -Mrs. Helen Campbell's "Prisoners of Poverty," a study of the condition -of some of the lower strata of the laboring classes, particularly the -working-women in the great cities of the United States, is supplemented -with another volume, "Prisoners of Poverty Abroad," in which the life of -working-women of European cities, chiefly London and Paris, is depicted -with equally graphic and terrible truthfulness. - -They are the result of fifteen months of travel and study, and are -examples of Mrs. Campbell's well-known methods of examination and -description. They paint a horrible picture, but a truthful one, and no -person of even ordinary sensibilities can read these books without -experiencing a strong desire to do something to abate the monstrous -injustice which they describe.--_Good Housekeeping._ - - -_Sold by all Booksellers. Mailed, post-paid, on receipt of the price, by -the Publishers_, - -LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY, BOSTON. - - - - -_In Foreign Kitchens._ - - -WITH CHOICE RECIPES FROM ENGLAND, FRANCE, GERMANY, ITALY, AND THE NORTH. - -By HELEN CAMPBELL, - -_Author of "The Easiest Way in Housekeeping and Cooking," "Prisoners of -Poverty," "The What-To-Do Club," etc._ - -16MO. CLOTH. PRICE, 50 CENTS. - -While foreign cookbooks are accessible to all readers of foreign -languages, and American ones have borrowed from them for what we know as -"French cookery," it is difficult often to judge the real value of a -dish, or decide if experiment in new directions is worth while. The -recipes in the following chapters, prepared originally for _The -Epicure_, of Boston, were gathered slowly, as the author found them in -use, and are most of them taken from family recipe-books, as valued -abroad as at home. So many requests have come for them in some more -convenient form than that offered in the magazine, that the present -shape has been determined upon; and it is hoped they may be a welcome -addition to the housekeeper's private store of rules for varying the -monotony of the ordinary menu. - - -_Sold by all Booksellers. Mailed, postpaid, on receipt of the price by -the Publishers_, - -LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY, BOSTON. - - - - -Women Wage-Earners. Their Past, their Present, and their Future. By -HELEN CAMPBELL. 16mo. Cloth. Price, $1.00. - -The writer describes employments in the factory and home, compares the -condition of women workers here and abroad, dwells upon the evils and -abuses in factory life and in general trades, and points out remedies -and gives suggestions. The book is an expansion of a prize monograph for -the American Economic Association, for which a reward was given in 1891, -expanded to nearly double its original size. An introduction to it is -contributed by Prof. Richard T. Ely. Nowhere else could one get so much -information on this subject in so small a space as in this book.--_The -School Journal._ - -It includes such topics as factory labor, rise and growth of trades, -labor bureaus, wage rates, and general conditions for women workers in -England, on the Continent, and in the United States. - -The importance of this subject with which Mrs. Campbell deals is not -easily overestimated. The present age is the era of woman, since -whatever affects her receives a consideration never before given. For a -long time the agitation in favor of woman was to remove barriers and -open the way for her. The way has been opened and woman has entered -scores of fields previously closed to her. The questions which now arise -are as to her remuneration for her work in these fields, and the -influence of women wage-earning on the family, the home, and society. -These are questions not yet settled. Mrs. Campbell approaches their -discussion in a spirit of fairness, and what she says is suggestive and -helpful, if not conclusive. Her volume is a valuable contribution to the -literature of social science.--_Boston Advertiser._ - -Such a work could never have been compiled for women except by a woman. -It is itself a demonstration of the fact that women can handle the woman -question as men alone cannot do, and that women can be raised and -elevated from their present depressed condition only by organizations -and trades unions of their own. Every woman should read this book -carefully. She will gain from its perusal a breadth and depth of -knowledge which will be of lasting value to her, and it will show her -how great a work exists for women to do, in order to "make the world -better."--_Woman's Journal._ - -It is a sober statement of facts by a thoughtful woman who has made a -life-study of economic questions, both through the medium of books, and -by personal investigation into the modern conditions of labor. The book -covers the history of the wage question as affecting women, its present -status, and its prospect for the future.--_Worcester Spy._ - -Her style is robust, orderly, precise, every page carrying the evidence -of trained thought and of careful, conscientious research.--_Public -Opinion._ - - -LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., Publishers, - -254 Washington Street, Boston. - - - - -_No Woman can give herself to a more noble occupation than the making of -the ideal home.--The Beacon._ - -The Easiest Way in Housekeeping and Cooking. Adapted to Domestic Use or -Study in Classes. By HELEN CAMPBELL. A new revised edition. 16mo. Cloth. -Price, $1.00. - -The work grew out of Mrs. Campbell's experiences as a teacher of -cookery, more especially at the South, but its principles are applicable -anywhere, and as a manual for inexperienced housewives or as a -class-room text-book it will be found of decided value.... No woman can -give herself to a more noble occupation than the making of the ideal -home, and Mrs. Campbell, by showing women how to do this, accomplished a -great and important task. The book she has written tells about the -requirements of a healthful home, explains how the routine of daily -housekeeping may be most economically and effectually conducted, sets -forth the chemistry of food and the relations of food to health, and in -the second part gives special instructions on the preparation of -different sorts of food, with many carefully tested recipes.--_The -Beacon._ - -It is not a cook-book pure and simple. It is more. It covers a large -range, such as the situation and arrangement of the house, drainage and -water supply, the day's work and how to plan it, fires, lights, and -things to work with, washing-day and cleaning in general, the body and -its composition, food and its laws, the relations of food to health, the -chemistry of animal food, the chemistry of vegetable food, condiments, -and beverages. The book is interestingly written, as is everything that -comes from Mrs. Campbell's pen. It certainly will prove a great benefit -to housewives and would-be housewives who read it; besides, the ample -recipes it contains make it a book of reference of constant -value.--_Cleveland World._ - -In the midst of always increasing cookery books, it has had a firm -constituency of friends, especially in the South, where its necessity -was first made plain. There is something here for the tyro and the -adept, and whether used at home with growing girls, in cooking clubs, in -schools, or in private classes, the system outlined has proven itself -admirable, and the theory and practice of Miss Campbell's book are -almost beyond criticism.--_Oregonian._ - -It is not merely a cook-book, but is a text-book of about everything -that is of special interest to the housekeeper, and is adapted either -for domestic use or study in classes. It is in fact a housekeeper's most -valuable encyclopædia, written by a lady who by education and thoroughly -practical knowledge was rendered singularly competent for the important -work here undertaken and so successfully carried out.... It is a book -that intelligent young housekeepers especially will come to regard as an -indispensable companion.--_Boston Home Journal._ - -It really is one of the most admirable of manuals for the usual young -housekeeper.--_Providence Journal._ - - -LITTLE, BROWN, & COMPANY, - -254 Washington Street, Boston, Mass. - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Prisoners of Poverty, by Helen Campbell - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PRISONERS OF POVERTY *** - -***** This file should be named 34060-8.txt or 34060-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - https://www.gutenberg.org/3/4/0/6/34060/ - -Produced by Bryan Ness and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was -produced from scanned images of public domain material -from the Google Print project.) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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