fail. And that always gives
me a few days' rest. I'm glad to get 'em, believe me!"

"Why--why, can a man fail more than once?" gasped Helen.

"He can in the clothing business," responded Sadie, laughing, and leading
the way into the tiny parlor. "I bet there was a crowd in there when you
come by?"

"Yes, indeed," agreed Helen.

"Sure! he'll get rid of all the 'stickers' he's got it in the shop, and
when we open again next week for ordinary business, everything will be
fresh and new."

"Oh, then, you're really not out of a job?" asked Helen, relieved for her
friend's sake.

"No. I'm all right. And you?"

"I came down particularly to see about that poor old man's spectacles,"
Helen said.

"Then you didn't forget about him?"

"No, indeed. Did you see him? Has he got the prescription? Is it right
about his eyes being the trouble?"

"Sure that's what the matter is. And he's dreadful poor, Helen. If he
could see better he might find some work. He wore his eyes out, he told
me, by writing in books. That's a business!"

"Then he has the prescription."

"Sure. I seen it. He's always hoping he'd get enough money to have the
glasses. That's all he needs, the doctor told him. But they cost fourteen
dollars."

"He shall have them!" declared Helen.

"You don't mean it, Helen?" cried the Russian girl. "You haven't got that
much money for him?"

"Yes, I have. Will you go around there with me? We'll get the prescription
and have it filled."

"Wait a bit," said Sadie. "I want to finish this hat. And lemme tell
you--it's right in style. What do you think?"

"How wonderfully clever you are!" cried the Western girl. "It looks as
though it had just come out of a shop."

"Sure it does. I could work in a hat shop. Only they wouldn't pay me
anything at first, and they wouldn't let me trim. But I know a girl that
ain't a year older nor me what gets sixteen dollars a week trimming in a
millinery store on Grand Street. O' course, she ain't the _madame_; she's
only assistant. But sixteen dollars is a good bunch of money to bring home
on a Saturday night--believe me!"

"Is that what you'd like to do--keep a millinery shop?" asked Helen.

"Wouldn't I--just?" gasped Sadie. "Why, Helen--I dream about it nights!"

Helen became suddenly interested. "Would a little shop pay, Sadie? Could
you earn your living in a little shop of your own--say, right around here
somewhere?"

"Huh! I've had me eye on a place for months. But it