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Updated: June 1, 2025
If not? but the fear made her feel sick. She had no food in the house, no friends to whom she could apply, and there was no one of whom she could venture to ask to be trusted for even a single loaf of bread. At length she reached the well-lighted store, in which were several customers, upon whom both Berlaps and his clerk were attending with business assiduity.
The young woman remained quietly beside the desk of Berlaps until Michael came up and handed her the shirts. She then walked quickly toward the door, but did not reach it before Michael, who had glided along behind one of the counters. "You're a fool! And don't know which side your bread's buttered," he said, with a half leer, half scowl.
As she passed him, the customer turned and looked at her earnestly for a moment or two, and then asked in a whisper "Who is that?" "Only one of our sewing-girls," replied Berlaps, indifferently. "What is her name?" "I forget. She's a girl to whom we gave out work day before yesterday." This paused the man to look at her more attentively.
Just look how she has held on the back seam of this one, and drawn the edges of the lappels until they set seven ways for Sunday! They're murdered outright, and ought to be hung, with a basin under them to catch the blood." "What was she to have for them?" asked Berlaps. "Thirty cents a-piece, I believe," replied the salesman. "Don't give her but a quarter, then.
Folks that have come down in the world as she has, rarely play grab-game after that fashion." "She seemed all struck aback at the price." "I suppose so. Ha! ha!" "But she's the right kind," resumed Berlaps. "I only wish we had a dozen like her." "I wish we had. Her work will never rip." Further conversation was prevented by the entrance of a customer.
This incident is mentioned here, as a striking illustration of the practical working of that system of grinding the poor, especially poor females, by which many men make fortunes, or at least acquire far more than a simple competence for life. That carriage belonged to Berlaps, and those happy children were his.
If you don't choose to turn out good work, I can find a plenty who will." "You sha'n't complain of me hereafter, Mr. Berlaps," replied the woman submissively. "So you have said before; but we shall see."
It was a long time before she could resume her work, and then so deep was her feeling of desolation, that she could not keep back from her eyelids the blinding tear-drops. THE efforts made by Perkins to find the residence of the stranger proved unavailing. Half suspecting that Michael had deceived him, he returned to the shop of Mr. Berlaps, and asked the direction anew.
Berlaps," said the woman, in a deprecating tone; "but one of my children has been sick; and I have had to be up with her so often every night, and have had to attend to her so much through the day, that I have not been able to do more than half work." "Confound the children!" muttered the tailor to himself, as he began inspecting the woman's work. "They're always getting sick, or something else."
I'm not going to pay full price to have my work botched up after that style!" And, so saying, Berlaps turned away and walked back to his desk. Lizzy Glenn, as she had called herself, entered at the moments and heard the remark of the tailor. She glided noiselessly by Mrs.
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