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Updated: June 1, 2025
Berlaps then turned moodily to his desk, and resumed the employment he had broken off when the seamstress came in, whilst she stood with her hands folded across each other, awaiting his pleasure in regard to the payment of the meagre sum she had earned by a full week of hard labor, prolonged often to a late hour in the night.
After that, the oppressed and his oppressors assumed their old relations. "I DON'T think I've seen any thing of Lizzy Glenn for a week," remarked Berlaps to his man Michael one day during the latter part of December. "Has she any thing out?" "Yes. She has four of our finest shirts." "How long since she took them away?" "It's over a week nearly ten days." "Indeed! Then she ought to be looked after.
"No, dear; I couldn't get any money this morning," the mother replied, bending over her sick child and kissing her cheek, that was flushed and hot with fever. "But as soon as Mr. Berlaps pays me, you shall have an orange." "I wish he would pay you soon then, mother; for I want one so bad. I dreamed last night that I had one, and just as I was going to eat it, I waked up.
It was some years since he had visited or heard particularly from Troy, and therefore this was the first intimation he had that Mrs. Gaston had removed form there, or that her situation had become so desperate as the fact of her working for Berlaps would indicate. AFTER Eugenia Ballantine, for she it really was, had removed to the humble abode of Mrs.
There's that Berlaps, who grinds the poor seamstresses who work for him to death and makes them one-half of their time beggars at our stores for something for their children to eat. He is building two houses in Roxbury at this very moment: and out of what? Out of the money of which he has robbed these poor women. Fifteen cents for a pair of trowsers with pockets in them!
Girls that make slop shirts and trowsers haven't much cause to stand on their dignity. Ha! ha!" The seamstress turned away quickly, and walked back to the desk where Berlaps stood writing. "Be kind enough, sir, if you please, to hand me three more of your fine shirts," she said, in a firm, but respectful tone.
"Somewhere at the north end. Michael; there, knows." "Get from him her street and number for me, if you please." Berlaps asked Michael for the street and number where she lived, which the fellow took good care to give wrong. Perkins made a memorandum of the name and residence, as furnished, in his note-book, and, bowing to the man of shears, departed.
After passing the "draw," as he crossed the old bridge, he perceived by the light of a lamp, some distance ahead, a female figure hurrying on with rapid steps. "It's the strange girl I saw at Berlaps', as I live!" he mentally ejaculated, quickening his pace. "I must see where she hides herself away."
It was two months or so since she had been there for work. Michael was then referred to; he knew nothing, but he had a suspicion that Mrs. Gaston got work for her. "Mrs Gaston!" exclaimed Perkins, with a look of astonishment. "Who is Mrs. Gaston?" "She is one of our seamstresses," replied Berlaps. "Where does she live?" The direction was given, and the young man hurried to the place.
You saw her in a clothing store?" "Yes. In the shop of that close-fisted Berlaps. She is one of his seamstresses a new one, by the way to whom he has just given work. So he informed me." "Indeed! She must be in great extremity to work for his pay. It is only the next remove, I am told, from actual starvation." "But tell me what you know of her, Milford.
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