Lizzy Glenn | Page 4

want
some money, I have brought them in."
"It is more than a week since we gave them out. You ought to have had
the whole seven pair done. We want them all now. They should have
been in day before yesterday."
"They would have been finished, Mr. Berlaps," said the woman, in a
deprecating tone; "but one of my children has been sick; and I have had
to be up with her so often every night, and have had to attend to her so
much through the day, that I have not been able to do more than half
work."
"Confound the children!" muttered the tailor to himself, as he began
inspecting the woman's work. "They're always getting sick, or
something else."
After carefully examining three or four pairs of the coarse trowsers
which had been brought in, he pushed the whole from him with a quick
impatient gesture and an angry scowl, saying, as he did so--

"Botched to death! I can't give you work unless it's done better, Mrs.
Gaston. You grow worse and worse!"
"I know, sir," replied the woman, in a troubled voice, "that they are not
made quite so well as they might be. But consider how much I have
had against me. A sick child--and worn out by attendance on her night
and day."
"It's always a sick child, or some other excuse, with the whole of you.
But that don't answer me. I want my work done well, and mean to have
it so. If you don't choose to turn out good work, I can find a plenty who
will."
"You sha'n't complain of me hereafter, Mr. Berlaps," replied the
woman submissively.
"So you have said before; but we shall see."
Berlaps then turned moodily to his desk, and resumed the employment
he had broken off when the seamstress came in, whilst she stood with
her hands folded across each other, awaiting his pleasure in regard to
the payment of the meagre sum she had earned by a full week of hard
labor, prolonged often to a late hour in the night. She had stood thus,
meekly, for nearly five minutes, when Berlaps raised his head, and
looking at her sternly over the top of his desk, said--
"What are you waiting for, Mrs. Gaston?"
"I should like to have the money for the pants I have brought in. I am
out of every"--
"I never pay until the whole job is done. Bring in the other pair, and
you can have your money."
"Yes; but Mr. Berlaps"--
"You needn't talk any thing about it, madam. "You have my say," was
the tailor's angry response.

Slowly turning away, the woman moved, with hesitating steps, to the
door, paused there a moment, and then went out. She lingered along,
evidently undecided how to act, for several minutes, and then moved
on at a quicker pace, as if doubt and uncertainty had given way to some
encouraging thought. Threading her way along the narrow winding
streets in the lower part of the city, she soon emerged into the open
space used as a hay market, and, crossing over this, took her way in the
direction of one of the bridges. Before reaching this, she turned down
toward the right, and entered a small grocery. A woman was the only
attendant upon this.
"Won't you trust me for a little more, Mrs. Grubb?" she asked, in a
supplicating voice, while she looked anxiously into her face.
"No, ma'am! not one cent till that dollar's paid up!" was the sharp retort.
"And, to tell you the truth, I think you've got a heap of impudence to
come in here, bold-faced, and ask for more trust, after having promised
me over and over again for a month to pay that dollar. No! pay the
dollar first!"
"I did intend to pay you a part of it this very day," replied Mrs. Gaston.
"But"--
"Oh yes. It's 'but' this, and 'but' that. But 'buts' ain't my dollar. I'm an
honest woman, and want to make an honest living; and must have my
money."
"But I only want a little, Mrs. Grubb. A few potatoes and, some salt
fish; and just a gill of milk and a cup of flour. The children have had
nothing to eat since yesterday. I took home six pairs of trowsers to-day,
which came to ninety cents, at fifteen cents a pair. But I had seven pairs,
and Mr. Berlaps wont pay me until I bring the whole number. It will
take me till twelve o'clock to-night to finish them, and so I can't get any
money before to-morrow. Just let me have two pounds of salt fish,
which will be only seven cents, and, three cents' worth of potatoes; and
a little milk and flour