n she and Miss
Cross nearly came to blows over religion. Each got purple in the face.
Then it came out that there was a feud between them--two years or more
it had lasted--and neither ever speaks to the other. (Yet Mrs. Reilly
gave one dollar, twice as much as the rest of us, toward Miss Cross's
Christmas present.) Then there are three girls from the office
downstairs. Everyone there had had some experience in being out of
work or not working. To each of them at such a time life has been a
wearisome thing. Each declared she would 'most rather work at any old
thing than stay home and do nothing.

Between the first and second bells after lunch the sixth-floor girls
foregather and sit on the ironing tables, swing our heels, and pass
the time of day. To-day I start casually singing, "Jesus Wants Me for
a Sunbeam." Everyone on our floor knows the song and there the whole
lot of us sit, swinging our heels, singing at the top of our lungs, "A
_sunbeam_, a _sunbeam_, Jesus wants me for a _sunbeam_," which is how
I got the name of "Sunbeam" on our floor. Except that Miss Cross, for
some reason of her own, usually called me "Constance."

I teach them "My Heart's a Little Bird Cage," and we add that to our
repertoire. Then we go on to "Nearer, My God, to Thee," "Lead, Kindly
Light," "Rock of Ages."

It appears we are a very religious lot on our floor. All the colored
girls are Baptists. Miss Cross is an ardent Presbyterian, Annie is an
Episcopalian, Edna and Mrs. Reilly are Catholics, but Edna knows all
the hymns we daily sing.

And, lo! before many days I am startled by hearing Lucia
sing--woebegone Lucia. She sings to no tune whatever and smiles at me,
"Sunbeam, Sunbeam, Sunbeam, Sunbeam." So she has learned one English
word in sixteen years. That is better in quality than German Tessie
did. She told me, at the candy factory, that the first thing she
learned in English was "son of a gun."

But as a matter of fact Lucia does know two other words. Once I ironed
a very starched nightgown. It was a very, very large and gathered
nightgown. I held it up and made Lucia look at it.

Lucia snickered. "Da big-a, da fat-a!" said Lucia.

Mrs. Reilly let out a squeal. "She's learnt English!" Mrs. Reilly
called down the line.

"And," I announce, "I'll teach her 'da small-a, da thin-a.'"

Thereafter I held up garments to which those adjectives might apply,
and tried to "learn" Lucia additional English. Lucia giggled and
giggled and