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"Bennie, you're a true artist because you're big enough to praise the work of a fellow craftsman when you recognize its value." And Koritz, the dull red showing under the olive of his cheeks, went back to his cutting-table happy. Buck bent forward, eagerly. "You're going to tell me now, Emma? It's finished?" "To-night at home. I want to be the first to try it on. I'll play model.

Henry's dress-suit fitted well, but his shoulders, bent with his life-work over the cutting-table, already moulded it. No tailor on earth could overcome the terrible, triumphant rigidity of that back fitted for years to its burden of toil. However, the man's face was happy with a noble happiness.

We working women are very grateful to you." "We!" exclaimed Mrs. Orton-Wells and Miss Susan Croft blankly, and in perfect time. Emma smiled sweetly. "Surely you'll admit that I'm a working woman." Miss Susan H. Croft was not a person to be trifled with. She elucidated acidly. "We mean women who work with their hands." "By what power do you think those shears were moved across the cutting-table?

She eyed it critically, her deft fingers manipulating the neckband. A little frown gathered between her eyes. "Somehow a woman in a flannel shirt always looks as if she had quinsy. It's the collar. They cut them like a man's small-size. But a woman's neck is as different from a man's as her collarbone is." She picked up a piece of flannel and smoothed it on the cutting-table.

They worked often assisted by their wives and children in all sorts of capacities and at all hours. They lived on bread and salmon and were content with almost a nominal margin of profit. There were instances when the clippings from the cutting-table constituted all the profit the business yielded them.

Casts and pictures and green growing things added to its charm and the Lady Hyacinths so trim and neat and earnest did not detract from it. The sewing-machines and the cutting-table had been cast into corners and well in the glare of the electric light the President was exclaiming in a voice which would have disgraced an early phonograph, "Oh that this too too solid flesh would melt."