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Updated: May 31, 2025
The pretty and smart one was not for such tactics long. “W'at d'ye say we go up to where the firm is and beat the rest of 'em to it!” “You said it!” And we tore up the iron stairs. On the second flight we passed a janitor. “Where's the bindery?” “Eighth floor.” “My Gawd!” And up seven flights we puffed in single file, conversation impossible for lack of wind.
From the first, bold, bright Eric has felt the charm of her black eyes, and loved to listen to her soft, foreign accent, and it would not be surprising if, when he reaches the height of his ambition, and becomes either superintendent of the bindery or first foreman of the mill, he should ask Italian Tessa to share both his name and his success. But that is a great way off.
Alfred was delighted. It was as Katie had said: he had endured the bindery because he must, and he was a boy of too good principles to worry over the inevitable, or to make people unhappy because of his likes or dislikes. But, all the same, he had disliked his work, and longed to do something more in accordance with his tastes.
She had married the foreman of the mill, who had now risen to be overseer of the bindery, and yearly laid up a large portion of his salary, while her sister had married a city grocer, who was spending all he made as he made it, and his children were growing up to be useless, fine ladies, and a positive injury to their country cousins.
"Don't I know your face? Let me see. Why, it can't be yes, it is Katie Robertson! How time flies! It seems to me only yesterday that your father died, and you were a baby; but Bertie was one, too, then, that's a fact. How time does fly, to be sure! So you want to get into the bindery where your brothers are, I suppose?" Katie nodded.
First, early in the morning and full of anticipation I made for the bindery on West Eighteenth Street. That sounded the likeliest of the possibilities. No need to get out the paper to make sure again of the number. It must be where that crowd was on the sidewalk ahead, some thirty girls and as many men and boys. Everyone was pretty cheerful—it was twenty minutes to eight and most of us were young.
Back of the bindery stood the blacksmith shop, where MacKittrick, the historian-blacksmith, plied the bellows and smote the anvil. MacKittrick took a liking to me. For one day we began talking about ancient history, and he perceived that I had a little knowledge of it, and a feeling for the colour and motion of its long-ago life.
The boys escorted her as far as the great gates, where a good many other girls and boys were waiting among a crowd of men and women, and then ran back to be in time at the bindery, which was a little nearer home.
It was not, however, without a feeling of trepidation natural to a stranger that she made her way to that meeting when the afternoon arrived. No sooner was she seated in Mrs. Holt's drawing-room filled with camp-chairs for the occasion than she found herself listening breathlessly to a recital of personal experiences by a young woman who worked in a bindery on the East side.
This is ascertained by actual count of the books upon the shelves, adding the number of volumes charged out, or in the bindery, or in readers' hands at the time of the enumeration.
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