can be seen that I left
the dress factory in intellectual advance over the condition in which
I entered.

The girls I had the opportunity of asking were not such "movie"
enthusiasts, on the whole. Only now and then they went to "a show."
Less frequently they spoke of going to the Jewish Theater. No one was
particularly excited over dancing--in fact, Sarah, who looked the
blond type of the dance-every-night variety, thought dancing
"disgusting." Shows weren't her style. She liked reading. Whenever I
got the chance I asked a girl what she did evenings. The answer
usually was, "Oh, nothing much." One Friday I asked a group of girls
at lunch if they weren't glad the next day was Saturday and the
afternoon off. Four of them weren't glad at all, because they had to
go home and clean house Saturday afternoons, and do other household
chores. "Gee! don't you hate workin' round the house?"

I wonder how much of the women-in-industry movement is traceable to
just that.

The first day I was at the dress factory a very dirty but
pleasant-faced little Jewish girl said to me, "Ever try workin' at
home? Ain't it just awful?" She had made thirty-two dollars a week
beading at her last place--didn't know what she'd get here.

I had hoped to hear murmurings and discussions about the conditions of
the garment trades and the unions--not a word the whole time. Papers
were full of a strike to be called the next week throughout the city,
affecting thousands of waist and dress makers. It might as well have
been in London. Not an echo of interest in it reached our factory. I
asked Sarah if she had ever worked in a union shop. "Sure." "Any
different from this?" "Different? You bet it's different. Boss
wouldn't dare treat you the way you get treated here." But as usual I
was yelled for and got no chance ever to pin Sarah to details.

A group of girls in the dressing room exploded one night, "Gee! they
sure treat you like dogs here! No soap, no towels--nothing." The
hours were good--8.30 to 12.15; 1 to 5.15. One Saturday Ada and the
boss asked the beaders to work in the afternoon. Not one stayed. Too
many had heard the tales of girls working overtime and not being paid
anything extra.

* * * * *

Wednesday I went back after my last week's pay. When the cashier
caught sight of me she was full of interest. "I was writing you a
letter this very day. The boss wants you back awful badly. He's out
just now for lunc