llen," Abby Atkins said, anxiously, when
she joined her. Maria also was out that morning.

"Have you heard what they are going to do?" Ellen asked, in a sort
of breathless fashion.

"You mean about the wage-cutting? Don't look so, Ellen."

Maria pressed close to Ellen, and slid her thin arm through hers.

"Yes," said Ellen. "What did John Sargent say when he got home last
night?"

Abby hesitated a second, looking doubtfully at Ellen. "I don't see
that there is any need for you to take all this so much to heart,"
she said.

"What did he say?"

"Well," Abby replied, reluctantly, "I believe Mr. Lloyd wouldn't
give in. Ellen Brewster, for Heaven's sake, don't look so!"

Ellen walked on, her head high, her face as white as death. Maria
clung closely to her, her own lips quivering.

"What are the men going to do, do you think?" asked Ellen,
presently, in a low voice.

"I don't know," replied Abby. "John Sargent seems to think they'll
give in. He says he doesn't know what else they can do. The times
are hard. I believe Amos Lee and Tom Peel are for striking, but he
says he doesn't believe the men will support them. The amount of it
all is, a man with money has got it all his own way. It's like
fighting with bare hands to oppose him, and getting yourself cut,
and not hurting him at all. He's got all the weapons. We simply
can't go without work all winter. It is better to do with less than
with nothing at all. What can a man like Willy Jones do if he hasn't
any work? He and his mother would actually suffer. What could we
do?"

"I don't think we ought to think so much about that," said Ellen.

"What do you think we ought to think about, for goodness' sake?"

"Whether we are doing right or not, whether we are furthering the
cause of justice and humanity, or hindering it. Whether it is for
good in the long run or not. There have always been martyrs; I don't
see why it is any harder for us to be martyrs than for those we read
about."

Sadie Peel came pressing up behind eagerly, her cheeks glowing,
holding up her dress, and displaying a cheap red petticoat. "Ellen
Brewster," she exclaimed, "if you dare say anything more to-day I'm
goin' to talk. Father is tearing, though he goes around looking as
if he wouldn't jump at a cannon-ball. Do, for Heaven's sake, keep
still; and if you can't get what you want, take what you can get. I
ain't goin' to be cheated out of my nearseal cape, nohow."

"Sadie Peel, you make me t