CHAPTER XVI CARNEGIE HALL
The ten days when Yetta had nominally been in prison, but was really resting her body and improving her mind on the warden's pleasant lawn, had been great days for the vest-makers.
The sudden publicity which her arrest had given their Cause turned the tide in their favor. None of the English papers gave an accurate nor intelligent account of the struggle, but in a vague way the generally listless public came to realize that a picturesque conflict was raging on the East Side between hundreds of half-starved women and the Powers of Greed. One could hardly call it sympathy, for sympathy requires some degree of understanding. But the conviction became widespread that it was not a "fair fight." The pathos writers were daily turning out miniature Uncle Tom's Cabins. And the society writers continued to give space to the new fad.
The strikers might have won considerable concessions without this fortuitous aid. They had tied up their trade for five weeks at the height of the rush season. Their enthusiasm and esprit du corps had grown with hunger and persecution. Even the biggest bosses had begun to wonder if it would not be cheaper to make some compromise. But certainly the strikers would not have won so quickly nor so largely if this unexpected force had not come to their assistance. The judge in Essex Market Court no longer dared to be so high-handed. The hired thugs were afraid that every passer-by was a reporter, every picket a society pet. The second day two of the bosses deserted the Association of Vest Manufacturers and settled with their forces. Once started, the stampede became general; every day more shops settled, and by the time Yetta was discharged the strike was practically over.
It was four o'clock of a Thursday afternoon when she was given back her own clothes and told that she was free. As she waited on the Island dock for the ferry to carry her across an unexpected wave of fear came over her. The city beyond the river looked hostile to her. Sooner or later the vest strike would end. What should she do then? She knew that the "strike" would not be over for her—it would last as long as she lived. But where was she to live, how was she to gain a living? How could she get the chance to study, which she felt to be her greatest need? This last was what troubled her most. It did not matter where she slept nor what she ate, but she needed the knowledge which is power. As the tug fought its way against the current and the city came closer and closer, it looked to her like some jealous monster which stood guard over a great treasure. Somehow she must do battle with it, for the prize must be hers. She felt herself very weak, and her armament seemed pitiable.
On the New York dock she found Mabel and Walter and Mrs. Karner waiting for her.
"Yetta, Yetta," Mabel laughed and cried, with her arms about her. "Remember what a crowd of girls came up to welcome the first ones who came out? Why do you suppose they're not here to welcome you? They're back at work. We've won! We've won!"