My job went well for an amateur. I finished one case of shoes (thirty-six pairs) in little more than an hour. By ten o'clock the room grew stifling hot. I was obliged to discard my dress skirt and necktie, loosen collar, roll up my sleeves. My warmer blooded companions did the like. It was singular to watch the clock mark out the morning hours, and at ten, already early, very early in the forenoon, feel tired because one had been three hours at work.
A man came along with nuts and apples in a basket to sell. I bought an apple for five cents. It was regarded by my teacher, Maggie, as a prodigal expenditure! I shared it with her, and she in turn shared her half with her neighbours, advising me wisely.
"Say, you'd better earn an apple before you buy one!"
My companion on the other side was a pretty country girl. She regarded her work with good-humoured indifference; indeed, her labour was of very indifferent quality. I don't believe she was ever intended to make shoes. In a cheerful "undertone she sang topical songs the morning long. It drove Maggie McGowan "mad," so she said.
"Say, why don't some of youse sing?" said the little creature, looking down our busy line. "I never hear no singing in the shops."
Maggie said, "Sing! Well, I don't come here to sing."
The other laughed sweetly.
"Well, I jest have to sing."
"You seem happy; are you?" She looked at me out of her pretty blue eyes.
"You bet! That's the way to be!" Then after a little, in an aside to me alone, she whispered: