One day I decided to consider myself dismissed from Parsons'. They had taught me all they could,
unless I changed my trade, in that shop; I wished to learn a new one in another. Therefore, one morning I applied at another factory, again one of the largest in Lynn. The sign read:
"Cleaner Wanted!"
"Cleaner" sounded easy to learn. My experience this time was with a foreman instead of a forelady. The workroom I sought was on the second floor, a room filled with men, all of them standing. Far down the room's centre I saw the single figure of a woman at her job. By her side I was soon to be, and we two the sole women on the second floor.
The foreman was distinctly a personage. Small, kind, alive, he wore a straw hat and eye-glasses. He had decided in a moment that my short application for "something to do" was not to be gainsaid.
"Ever worked before?"
This time I had a branch of a trade at my fingers' ends.
"Yes, sir; presser."
I was proud of my trade.