No indications of fruit; but there were four machines and a stack of brooms, and the litter of shreds and waste, and I was about to retreat with an apology after making known my errand. He said I had made no mistake, but he was out of everything except confectionery; peanuts, dates and figs. So as there were no apples, no pears, no peaches, no grapes, after all my perseverance, dates I would have, and he went to a closet where he said he kept them, holding his hands out before him in such a way that I knew he could not see even before he said, “I am blind.”
After he had weighed them and received his pay, there were a few words about his business, which he seemed delighted to talk about, and because I put a question or two, he asked if I was a reporter, and said “that used to be my business. I was on the reportorial staff of the Pennsylvania legislature, when from overtasking my eyes, and other causes, I became blind. I went to the Institution at South Boston, and learned to make brooms so that I could earn my living.”
He was full of interest in the work he had been compelled to fall back upon, and invited me to come in with my companion and see how it was done.
“Now I wish,” said he, “that I had some stuff ready. I have to soak it before I use it. But your train does not go till four o’clock. I will put some to soak immediately, and if you will come in about three I will begin at the beginning and make a broom, so that you can then see the whole process.”
To be sure we were glad to go, and he did as he said he would, and explained every particular, even to the cost.
“The broom-corn comes from the West,” he said, “though a good deal grows in the Mohawk valley, and the largest broom establishment in the United States is at Schenectady.
“It often grows, if thriving stalks, ten or twelve feet tall; it can be cultivated here, but not so profitably. It comes in large bales, weighing anywhere from one hundred and fifty to five hundred pounds. Where I buy mine in Boston it costs me six cents a pound, though the price varies.
“I sort it out on a ‘sorting bench,’ first, for if I took it as it is, the brooms would be of queer qualities. Sorting is a regular trade to learn.
“The next thing, I tie it in bundles, and then it is ready for use. I put as many of these to soak the night before, as I want to make up in the day. I leave it in the water half an hour, then let it drain, and it keeps damp enough for working; if it was dry it would break when I sew it. Here you see this lot, from which I shall make the broom. I call now we have wire, and it is galvanized to prevent it from rusting. It costs me twelve cents a pound; it used to cost seventeen.”