He had nothing—was, indeed, turning away hands; my evident disappointment had apparently impressed a man who was in the habit of refusing applicants for work.
"Look here"—he mitigated his refusal—"come
to-morrow at nine. I'm getting in a whole bale of cloth for cutting linings."
"You'll give me a chance, then?"
"Yes, I will!"
It was then proven that I could not starve in Lynn, nor wander houseless.
With these evidences of success, pride stirred. I determined before nightfall to be at work in a Lynn shoe-shop. It was now noon, streets filled with files and lines of freed operatives. Into a restaurant I wandered with part of the throng, and, with excitement and ambition for sauce, ate a good meal.
Factories had received back their workers when I applied anew. This time the largest building, one of the most important shops in Lynn, was my goal. At the door of Parsons' was a sign reading:
"Wanted, Vampers."
A vamper I was not, but if any help was wanted there was hope. My demand for work was greeted at the office this time with—"Any signs out?"