Miss Eunice went through with a pretty thorough course of reading upon sin, repentance, faith in Christ, renunciation of all evil, walking obediently in God's holy will and commandments, which is another name for holy living, and as she prayed constantly for God's blessing upon her efforts, she had great cause for thankfulness in the hope that many of these young souls thus brought, for the first time, face to face with their personal responsibility toward God, and his loving provision for their salvation, really chose the "better part," which no man can take away from us,—"passed from death unto life," and in publicly confessing Christ made no false profession.
CHAPTER VI.
A DISCOVERY.
Meanwhile work in the mill was becoming an old story and, as such, decidedly monotonous. The glamour had passed by, and Squantown Paper Mill had ceased to be an enchanted palace and become a prosaic place of daily toil. Such disenchantments are always more or less painful, and Katie's high spirits declined proportionally. It was well that principles of self-support, independence, and duty to God, underlay her enthusiasm, or it would soon have died away, being choked to death by the dust from the rags.
The little pile of money that was ready to be carried home every Saturday night at first did a great deal toward rekindling the old enthusiasm. The first week it was only two dollars and forty cents, but on the second it had risen to three dollars, fifty cents a day being the regular price paid to the "rag-room girls." By this time the "new hand" was new no longer, and she had learned to work so fast as to accomplish the amount usually done in a day in a much shorter time, and then Miss Peters told her she might go home.
Mr. Mountjoy, or rather "Mr. James," upon whom all arrangements concerning the work-people devolved, was not one of those employers who consider that they have bought all the time of their employees. He had a right to a fair day's work in return for a fair day's wages, but if any one was industrious enough to do more than this, the time thus gained was his own to use as he liked. Many of the elder workers did use it in the mill, receiving extra pay for extra work, when, as sometimes happened, there was extra work to be done. Some of her companions made as much as a dollar a day in this way. But Mrs. Robertson was gifted with good sense, and knew that her child's young strength must not be overtaxed and thus the development of the future woman be stunted. So Katie came home generally about four o'clock, and had plenty of time to rest, to help her mother about the house, to keep up some of her old school studies, and to read the very valuable and interesting books of which the Sunday-school library was composed. Her mother took her money and kept it for her, hoping thus to have enough for the summer outfit she would so soon need. The child would gladly have done extra work in order to make extra money, she knew so well how much it was needed, but her mother was inexorable, and she was forced to submit.
As to Bertie, she never finished her day's work at all. Her time was largely spent in looking out of window, studying the dresses and ribbons of the other girls, making signs to her companions, and whispering to her neighbor whenever Miss Peters's back was turned. She hated her work and would have given it up long ago, at least as soon as the silk dress had been procured, and her mother would have very injudiciously purchased it long before the money had been earned, but that her father was resolute. The mill would have dispensed with her society as soon as her idleness and inefficiency were seen, except that Mr. Sanderson was her father, and it was thought best to show due consideration to him.
"Dear me! how hateful it all is," said Bertie, with a yawn, one day during the half-hour when talking was permitted. "Are you not heartily sick of it, Katie?"
"It's a little monotonous, I own," said the girl addressed, "but then, no work is play, I suppose. Maybe we'll get promoted to the folding-room soon, and it will be much nicer there."
"It isn't a bit nicer. It's work anywhere, and I hate work. I never mean to do a bit of it that I can help. Ma says pa'll have money enough to make us all rich, and I want to be a lady." "Ma" had been a factory-girl herself, which was perhaps one reason why Bertie despised the business. She had married the foreman of the mill, who had now risen to be overseer of the bindery, and yearly laid up a large portion of his salary, while her sister had married a city grocer, who was spending all he made as he made it, and his children were growing up to be useless, fine ladies, and a positive injury to their country cousins.