Mary tried to argue with them.
"When women start to take men's jobs away—" began one of the committee.
"But they didn't," she said. "The men quit."
"When women start to take men's jobs away from them," he repeated, "it's time for the men to assert themselves."
"We know that you mean well, Miss Spencer," said another, "but you are starting something here that's bad. You're starting something that will take men's work away from them—something that will make more workers than there are jobs."
"It was the war that started it," she pleaded, "not I. Now let me ask you something. There is so much work that has to be done in the world every day; isn't there?"
"Yes, I guess that's right."
"Well, don't you see? The more people there are to do that work, the easier it will be for everybody."
But no, they couldn't see that. So Mary had to ring for Joe to bring in the old employment cards again, and that night and all day Sunday, Mrs. Ridge's company spread the news that four hundred more women were wanted at Spencer & Son's—"and you ought to see the place they've got for looking after children," was invariably added to the mothers of tots, "free milk, free nurses, free doctoring, free toys, rompers, little chairs and tables, animals, sand piles, swings, little pails and shovels—you never saw anything like it in your life—!"
If the tots in question heard this, and were old enough to understand, their eyes stood out like little painted saucers, and mutely then or loudly they pleaded Mary's cause.