have made
their demands for shorter hours and better pay.

* * * * *

LYNN

Luxuries to me are what necessities are to another. A boot too heavy, a
dress ill-hung, a stocking too thick, are annoyances which to the
self-indulgent woman of the world are absolute discomforts. To omit the
daily bath is a little less than a crime in the calendar; an odour
bordering on the foul creates nausea to nostrils ultra-refined; undue
noises are nerve exhausting. If any three things are more unendurable to
me than others, they are noises, bad smells and close air.

I am in no wise unique, but represent a class as real as the other class
whose sweat, bone and fiber make up a vast human machine turning out
necessities and luxuries for the market.

[Illustration: A DELICATE TYPE OF BEAUTY--At work in a Lynn shoe
factory]

[Illustration: ONE OF THE SWELLS OF THE FACTORY: A very expert "vamper,"
an Irish girl, earning from $10 to $14 a week]

The clothes I laid aside on December 18, 1901, were as follows:

Hat $ 40
Sealskin coat 200
Black cloth dress 150
Silk underskirt 25
Kid gloves 2
Underwear 30
----
$ 447

The clothes I put on were as follows:

Small felt hat $ .25
Woolen gloves .25
Flannel shirt-waist 1.95
Gray serge coat 3.00
Black skirt 2.00
Underwear 1.00
Tippet 1.00
----
$9.45

* * * * *

When I outlined to my friends my scheme of presenting myself for work in
a strange town with no introduction, however humble, and no friends to
back me, I was assured that the chances were that I would in the end get
nothing. I was told that it would be impossible to disguise my class, my
speech; that I would be suspected, arouse curiosity and mistrust.

* * * * *

One bitter December morning in 1901 I left Boston for Lynn, Mass. The
route of my train ran close to marshes; frozen hard ice many feet thick
covered the rocks and hillocks of earth, and on the dazzling winter
scene the sun shone brilliantly.

No sooner had I taken my place in my plain attire than my former
personality slipped from me as absolutely as did the garments I had
discarded. I was Bell Ballard.