at is woman? Woman was created by God because Dear
Friends God saw how lonely man was and how lonesome and so out of
man's ribs God created woman to be man's company and helpmate...."

"Irma!" Miss Cross's voice had an oft-repeated tone to it. She called
out from the table where she checked over each girl's work without so
much as turning her head. "You ironed only one leg of these pajamas!"

Irma shuffled over on her crooked high heels and returned with the
half-done pajamas. "That fo'-lady!" sighed Irma, "she sure gets on ma
nerves. She's always hollerin' at me 'bout somethin'. She never
hollers at the other girls that way--she just picks on me."

And Irma continued with the True Woman: "There's another thing the
True Woman should have and that's a good character...."

"Irma!" (slight impatience in Miss Cross's tone) "you ironed this
nightgown on the wrong side!"

Irma looked appealingly at me. "There she goes again. She makes me
downright nervous, that fo'-lady does."

Poor, persecuted Irma!

During that first morning Irma had to iron over at least six things.
Then they looked like distraction. I thought of the manager's
introductory speech to me--how after two weeks I might have to make
way for a more efficient person.

"How long you been here?" I asked Irma.

"Four months."

"What you makin'?"

"Thirteen a week."

"Ever get extra?"

"Na."

Suspicions concerning the manager.

Irma had three other papers. One was on Testing Time. What was Testing
Time? It might concern chemical tubes. It might be a bit of romance.
And she really meant Trysting Time. No, to everybody a time comes when
he or she must make a great decision. It was about that.

"Irma! you've got your foot in the middle of that white apron!"

Another paper was on Etee-quette (q pronounced).

"Irma! you creased one of these pajama legs down the middle! Do it
over."

I pondered much during my laundry days as to why they kept Irma. She
told me she first worked down on the shirt-and-collar floor and used
to do "one hundred and ten shirts an hour," but the boss got down on
her. It took her sometimes three-quarters of an hour to do one boy's
shirt on our floor, and then one half the time she had it to do over.
Her ironing was beyond all words fearful to behold (there must be an
Irma in every laundry). She was all-mannered slow. She forgot to tag
her work. She hung it over her horse so that cuffs and apron strings
were always on the flo