on her character for sobriety.
Looking up, I saw that she was in one of the truck-teams. She had her
one hand and arm strained against the rear of the sodden load, which she
was urging forward with her hip. The load happened to be for our table,
and as we dumped it out I asked her if there wasn't anything easier she
could do. She responded cheerily:

"No. You've got to have two hands to run the mangles, and you've got to
have two hands to shake, and you've got to have two hands to tie up, but
you can push a truck with one hand." Which statement of the case,
combined with the cripple's optimism, made us laugh--all except the
one-eyed girl, espying whom, the maimed girl suddenly changed the tone
of levity with which she treated her own misfortune, and asked in a
lowered voice: "What's the matter with yer eye?" And the hospital
infection tale was repeated.

Could a duchess have claimed greater grace than that poor, unlettered,
uncouth creature's delicate perception of that subtle principle of
courtesy, which allowed her to jest over her own misfortunes, but which
prompted a gentle hesitation in speaking to another about hers!

In the excruciating agony of the hours that followed, the trucks became
a veritable anodyne for the pains that shot through my whole body.
Leaning over their deep sides was a welcome relief from the strained,
monotonous position at the tables. The one-eyed girl had likewise
discovered the anodyne, and remarked upon it once as we dived into the
wet freight.

"It's so funny how one kind of pain sort of eases up another," she said;
"I always feel good every time I see the truck coming, though trucking's
far harder work than shaking if you had to do it steady. I wonder why it
is. It was the same way with my eye. When it was getting better and just
ached a little bit, steady, all the time, I used to wish I could have
real hard jumping toothache, just for a change."

"God love ye, and it's so," fervently exclaimed Mrs. Mooney.

The day was terrifically hot outdoors, and with the fearful heat that
came up through the floor from the engine-room directly under us,
combined with the humidity of the steam-tilled room, we were all driven
to a state of half-dress before the noon hour arrived. The women opened
their dresses at the neck and cast off their shoes, and the foreman
threw his suspenders off his shoulders, while the colored washers
paddled about on the sloppy floor in their bare black feet.

"Don