"What's the matter, mother?" he asked. "Have you a headache?"
"No, Luke. I am perfectly well, but I am feeling a little anxious."
"About what, mother?"
"I went around this afternoon to take half a dozen shirts that I had completed, and asked for more. They told me they had no more for me at present, and they didn't know when I could have any more."
This was bad news, for Luke knew that he alone did not earn enough to support the family. However, he answered cheerfully: "Don't be anxious, mother! There are plenty of other establishments in Chicago besides the one you have been working for."
"That is true, Luke; but I don't know whether that will help me. I stopped at two places after leaving Gusset & Co.'s, and was told that their list was full."
"Well, mother, don't let us think of it to-night! To morrow we can try again."
Luke's cheerfulness had its effect on his mother, and the evening was passed socially.
The next morning Luke went out to work at the usual time. He had all his papers sold out by half-past ten o'clock, and walked over to State Street, partly to fill up the time, arid partly in search of some stray job. He was standing in front of the Bee Hive, a well-known drygoods store on State Street, when his attention was called to an old lady, who, in attempting to cross the street, had imprudently placed herself just in the track of a rapidly advancing cable car. Becoming sensible of her danger, the old lady uttered a terrified cry, but was too panic-stricken to move.
On came the car, with gong sounding out its alarm, and a cry of horror went up from the bystanders.