of day
a bit longer. The pretty and smart one was not for such tactics long.
"W'at d'ye say we go up to where the firm is and beat the rest of 'em
to it!" "You said it!" And we tore up the iron stairs. On the second
flight we passed a janitor. "Where's the bindery?"

"Eighth floor."

"My Gawd!" And up seven flights we puffed in single file, conversation
impossible for lack of wind.

The bright one opened the door and our group of nine surged in. There
stood as many girls and men as were down on the first floor and out on
the sidewalk.

"My Gawd!" There was nothing else to say.

We edged our way through till we stood by the time clock. The bright
one was right,--that was the strategic point. For at 8.30 a forelady
appeared at that very spot, just suddenly was--and in a pleasant tone
of voice announced, "We don't need any more help, male or female, this
morning!" Two scared-looking girls just in front of me screwed up
their courage and said, pleadingly, "But you told us Saturday we
should come back this morning and you promised us work!"

"Oh, all right! Then you two go to the coat room."

Everyone looked a bit dazed. At least one hundred girls and over that
many men had hopes of landing a job at that bindery--and they took on
two girls from Saturday.

We said a few things we thought, and dashed for the iron stairs. We
rushed down pell-mell, calling all the way. By this time a steady
procession was filing up. "No use. Save your breath." Some kept on,
regardless.

From the bindery I rushed to a factory making muslin underwear. By the
time I got there--only six blocks uptown--the boss looked incredulous
that I should even be applying at such an advanced hour, although it
was not yet 9. No, he needed no more. From there to the address of an
"ad" for "light factory work," whatever it might turn out to be. A
steady stream of girls coming and going. Upstairs a young woman,
without turning her head, her finger tracing down a column of
figures, called out, "No more help wanted!"

A rush to a wholesale millinery just off Fifth Avenue--the only
millinery advertising for learners. The elevator was packed going up,
the hallway was packed where we got out. The girls already there told
us newcomers we must write our names on certain cards. Also we must
state our last position, what sort of millinery jobs we expected to
get, and what salary. The girl ahead of me wrote twenty-eight dollars.
I wrote fourteen dollars. She mus