It is strange that we should be so careful of brute beasts that we form ourselves into societies for their protection, prosecuting rigorously any one who shall have the temerity to ill-treat or abuse them, and yet allow our fellow-creatures (and those, too, of the weaker sex) to be treated with the most barbarous cruelty. A bruise or a blow may be brutal and severe, yet neither is so hurtful, so systematically cruel, as the forcing young girls to stand erect for lengthened periods, without change of posture. I am sure if the members of the House of Commons were deprived of their seats even for one session, we would, without further ado have a Bill enacted making it criminal for shopkeepers to make slaves of their employees, or individuals to patronize such establishments.
Were shop-girls provided with even the commonest of seats, untold numbers of crimes and diseases would be heard of no more. I am confident that but for this most refined cruelty the circumstances which gave rise to this story would never have occurred, and that I would have been spared the narration of a history which, though painfully true, is none the less shocking.
M——‘s dry goods store has long been known in Montreal as a well-started and well-appointed establishment. Carriages daily blocked the thoroughfare while waiting for their fashionable owners outside its door; and inside busy walkers and clerks could be seen running hither and thither, serving customers. Young women, also, some of them still bright and cheerful, many, alas, pale and heavy with sadness, might be seen grouped behind the counter, engaged in handing goods down from the shelves, and displaying them to the fashionable loungers behind the counter.
One of these girls, by name Esther Ryland, was noticed by many who frequented M——‘s store on account of her unusually attractive person and elegance of manners; she was a little above the average height, yet graceful and well-formed, with remarkably handsome features, and eyes that sparkled like a pair of diamonds. Esther had not been long in Messrs. M——‘s service, yet she had become so popular as a saleswoman that crowds frequented the particular counter at which she assisted, and she was known to many who were unacquainted with her name as the Pretty Shop-girl at M——‘s.
Esther was very proud of her attractions, both professionally and otherwise; she did not calculate, however, that the more popular she became the more work she would have to do, and that she would, in time, pay for her popularity with her health, if not her life. She had, in and out of the store, a great many admirers amongst those of the opposite sex, but there was one she prized above all others, a certain Mr. Quintin, a merchant tailor, who had just started business for himself, and had persuaded Esther to promise that, after another year’s service, she would give up business and become his wife.
It had been their custom to go for a stroll together on the long summer evenings, and together they might have been seen, fondly looking into each other’s faces, as, arm-in-arm, they perambulated the more remote portions of Sherbrooke and St. Denis streets, which at that time were scarcely built upon.
One evening when Quintin called, as usual, to take his enamorata for a walk, she said she would prefer to stay at home, as she was quite fatigued with the day’s work. Nothing disconcerted, her lover remained with her in the house, and they amused themselves with a pack of cards and a chessboard. The following evening, however, Miss Ryland was again indisposed, and, on questioning her closely, Quintin drew forth the avowal that she had not sat down for a quarter of an hour during the whole day! It seems it was the busy season at M——‘s, and, besides being engaged incessantly in serving customers, Miss Ryland was obliged to shorten her dinner hour, and to hurry back to meet the increased demand.
Quintin was quite shocked at this discovery. Although well aware of the brutal treatment of shopkeepers’ assistants, he had never been an interested party, and so had the matter placed before him in all its horrors for the first time. He resolved that, come what might, he would emancipate his intended wife from a life of such slavery, and so, having carefully arranged his business and purchased a neat little cottage in Cadieux street, he urged Miss Ryland to consent to marry him without delay, and so avoid her life of thraldom. She agreed to marry him during the ensuing month, pleading with feminine weakness that it would take at least that time to get her trousseau ready, and the day was finally arranged to their mutual satisfaction.
The excitement of preparation before marriage, and the change of scene during her wedding-tour, wrought such an effect on the woman that Mr. Quintin became convinced that his wife’s health was thoroughly restored, and he labored assiduously at his business, looking forward cheerfully to the time when she should become a mother, and the merry laughter of his children should, in his hours of rest from worldly cares, gladden and enliven their home.
A year rolled by, and both Mr. and Mrs. Quintin looked hopefully towards the future; two years passed and still they were childless. Mrs. Quintin would have given all the world, had she possessed it, for one of God’s blessings; she loved children, even those of other children, and one of her own would have been a priceless treasure. But she lamented more on her husband’s account. She knew that he doted on children; and when she saw him take the neighbours’ children on his knee, and, after looking wistfully in their faces, rise and dash his hand across his eyes, she knew what it meant. “Oh,” she would cry, “if only these abandoned wretches who desert their offspring could realize what it is to desire them and yet live unblest! If they but knew the priceless treasures they were casting from them, they would turn and repent in sackcloth and ashes.”