most potent armor, recognized by every dweller in the
swarming tenement. She had her father's quick tongue and laughing eyes,
but they could flash as well, and the few who tried a coarse jest
shrunk back from both look and scorching word.

Thus far all went well with the poor little fortunes. She worked always
ten and twelve, sometimes fourteen, hours a day, yet her strength did
not fail, and there was no dearth of work. It was in 1880, and prices
were nearly double the present rates. To-day work from the same
establishment means not over $4.50 per week, and has even fallen as low
as $3.50. In 1880 the shirts were given out by the dozen as at present,
going back to the factory to pass through the hands of the finisher and
buttonhole maker. The machine operator could make nine of the best class
of shirts in a day of ten hours, being paid for them at the rate of
$1.75 per dozen. Four spools of cotton, two hundred yards each, were
required for a dozen, the price of which must be deducted from the
receipts; but the firm preferred to supply twenty-four-hundred-yard
spools, at fifty cents for six-cord cotton used for the upper thread,
and thirty cents for the three-cord cotton used as under thread, the
present prices for same quality and size being respectively forty-five
and twenty-five cents. Making nine a day, the week's wages would be for
the four dozen and a half $7.87, or $7.50 deducting thread; but Rose
averaged five dozen weekly, and for nearly two years counted herself as
certain of not less than thirty dollars per month and often thirty-five.
The machine had been paid for. The room took on as comfortable a look
as its dingy walls and narrow windows would allow; and Bridget, age
five, had developed distinct genius for housekeeping, and washed dishes
and faces with equal energy and enthusiasm. She did all errands also,
and could not be cheated in the matter of change. She knew where the
largest loaves were to be had, and sniffed suspiciously at the packets
of tea.

"By the time she's seven, she'll do all but the washing," Rose said with
pride, and Bridget reverted to childhood for an instant, and spun round
on one foot as she made answer:--

"Shure, I could now, if you'd only be lettin' me."

"There's women on the west side that'll earn $2.50 a dozen, for work no
better than you're doing now," some one who had come from that quarter
said to her one day, but Rose shook her head. There is a curious
conservatism amo