I was astonished at his knowledge of my good qualities, but I maintained a lofty silence.
“Yes, yes,” the visitor said, musingly. “My wife only pays ten dollars a month, and then if the girl is all right she is willing to pay more, you know. I really couldn’t, you know——”
“We have no ten-dollar-girls here, sir,” said the agent with dignity; “you can’t get an honest, neat, and respectable girl for that amount.”
“H’m, yes; well, this girl has good references, I suppose?”
“Oh, yes; I know all about her,” said the agent, briskly and confidently. “She is an excellent girl, and I can give you the best personal reference—the best of references.”
Here I was, unknown to the agent. So far as he knew, I might be a confidence woman, a thief, or everything wicked, and yet the agent was vowing that he had good personal references.
“Well, I live in Bloomfield, N. J., and there are only four in the family. Of course you are a good washer and ironer?” he said, turning to me. Before I had time to assure him of my wonderful skill in that line the agent interposed: “This is not the girl you want. No, sir, this girl won’t do general housework. This is the girl you are after,” bringing up another. “She does general housework,” and he went on with a long list of her virtues, which were similar to those he had professed to find in me. The visitor got very nervous and began to insist that he could not take a girl unless his wife saw her first. Then the agent, when he found it impossible to make him take a girl, tried to induce the gentleman to join the bureau. “It will only cost you $2 for the use of the bureau for a month,” he urged, but the visitor began to get more nervous and to make his way to the door. I thought he was frightened because it was an agency, and it amused me to hear how earnestly he pleaded that really he dare not employ a girl without his wife’s consent.
After the escape of the visitor we all resumed our former positions and waited for another visitor. It came in the shape of a red-haired Irish girl.
“Well, you are back again?” was the greeting given her.
“Yes. That woman was horrible. She and her husband fought all the time, and the cook carried tales to the mistress. Sure and I wouldn’t live at such a place. A splendid laundress, with a good ‘karacter,’ don’t need to stay in such places, I told them. The lady of the house made me wash every other day; then she wanted me to be dressed like a lady, sure, and wear a cap while I was at work. Sure and it’s no good laundress who can be dressed up while at work, so I left her.”