“Can I have some more?” asked Mrs. Hoffman, anxiously.
“Not to-day. We're overstocked with goods made up. We must contract our manufacture.”
This was unexpected, and carried dismay to the heart of the poor woman. What she could earn was very little but it was important to her.
“When do you think you can give me some more work?” she asked.
“It may be a month or six weeks,” he answered, carelessly.
A month or six weeks! To have her supply of work cut off for so long a time would, indeed, be a dire misfortune. But there was nothing to say. Mrs. Hoffman knew very well that no one in the establishment cared for her necessities. So, with a heavy heart, she started for home, making up her mind to look elsewhere for work in the afternoon. She could not help recalling, with sorrow, the time when her husband was living, and they lived in a pleasant little home, before the shadow of bereavement and pecuniary anxiety had come to cloud their happiness. Still, she was not utterly cast down. Paul had proved himself a manly and a helpful boy, self-reliant and courageous, and, though they might be pinched, she knew that as long as he was able to work they would not actually suffer.
CHAPTER IX
A NEW PATRON
Mrs. Hoffman went out in the afternoon, and visited several large establishments in the hope of obtaining work. But everywhere she was met with the stereotyped reply, “Business is so dull that we are obliged to turn off some who are accustomed to work for us. We have no room for new hands.”