THE FIRST DAY.

Left to herself Katie looked timidly round. It is always an ordeal to meet so many strangers for the first time, and our little friend was beginning to feel quite forlorn, when Miss Peters, the superintendent of the rag-room, came to her and began to show her about the work to be done; how, besides the rags being sorted, the buttons were to be taken off and the larger pieces cut into small ones by pulling them dexterously along and between two great sharp knives set on end for the purpose. Katie had already covered her clean dress with the long-sleeved blue apron and her hair with the little mob-cap her mother had provided, and at once commenced her work, not at all seeing or noticing the scornful looks that passed between some of the girls whose ragged finery and dirty hair-ribbons full of dust and “flue” presented a lively contrast to her own neat and suitable equipment. We may observe, in passing, that before long this simple method of protection so commended itself to some of the more sensible girls and their parents that many of them adopted it and mob-caps and overalls became quite the fashion in the mill.

Katie was a smart little girl and could work very quickly when she set about it; of course to-day she was anxious to show how much she could do, and her piles and boxes were fuller than those of any girls near her by the time of the warning whistle, which indicated that in half an hour the dinner-bell would sound. Then there was a bustle in the room. The piles were taken away in long and deep barrows which men wheeled into the room, the boxes were carried off, emptied into the vats, and brought back again; some of the girls swept the floor and tables by which they stood; talking was permitted in this half-hour, and such a Babel as the tongues of forty or fifty girls suddenly unloosed can make may be better imagined than described. The “new hand” took advantage of the interval to divest herself of her cap and apron, and putting on her hat, after washing her hands in one of the row of basins provided for the purpose, appeared as neat and nice for her homeward walk as she had done in the morning when she came.

Such was not the case with most of the girls, whose fluffy, disordered appearance as they issued from the rag-room was proverbial.

At precisely twelve o’clock the great bells began to clang and the steam-whistle to shriek, and the long corridors and stairs echoed to the tramp of many feet as the hundreds of men, women, boys, and girls rushed down and out, and scattered in every direction toward the many homes where dinner was awaiting them.

Eric and Alfred met their sister just outside of the door, and the three were soon at home, Katie talking so much and so fast all the way, that her brothers, as they said, “could hardly get in a word edgewise.” Many of the mill operatives carried their dinner with them and spent the noon hour in gossip with each other, but Mrs. Robertson was careful both of the bodies and souls of her children. She knew that the former would be much more vigorous if every day they had a warm, comfortable, if frugal, meal at noontide, and thought that the latter would be kept pure and unsullied much longer if not exposed to the kind of talk apt to pass between idle men and women of all grades and associations in society. So ever since they first went into the bindery, the boys had regularly come home to dinner, and were much the better, not only for it, but also for the quick walk in the open fresh air.

Poor Mrs. Robertson had passed a lonely morning. She was used to being alone while her daughter was at school, but that was different; she had conjured up all sorts of dangers and disagreeables that the girl might have to encounter, and she rather expected to see her brought in on a board bruised and maimed from some part of the machinery into which she had fallen or been entangled. But when Katie came rushing in like a whirlwind, in high spirits, with glowing cheeks and a splendid appetite, which yet she could scarcely take time to gratify, so full was she of enthusiastic talk concerning the beauty and grandeur of the mill and the kindness of Mr. James, her mother felt rather ashamed of her forebodings.

Never had a dinner tasted so nicely; never had the little girl, to her remembrance, eaten so much. She was in such a hurry to be off again, so as not to be late, that the boys declared she would not give them any time to eat at all, and again predicted that in a month’s time things would not be so rose-colored.

In the afternoon a surprise awaited the little factory-girl. Hardly had work recommenced as the silence of voices and the noise of machinery followed upon the long steam-whistle, than Mr. James again appeared, followed by another “new hand.” She was a tall, stout girl; in reality just about Katie’s age, but looking several years older, dressed in a light-blue cashmere, considerably soiled and frayed. Her hair, which was “banged” low over her forehead, was braided in a long tail behind, and tied with a bunch of tumbled red ribbons, and around her neck was a chain and locket intended to resemble gold. The girls all looked at her inappropriate costume, most of them with envy and admiration, a few with pity for a girl who knew no better than to come to factory work in so very unsuitable a dress, and Katie looked up in some surprise to find that the new comer, who had been placed next to her, was her old school companion, Bertie Sanderson.

Miss Peters came forward pleasantly, showed the new girl how to do her work just as she had showed Katie in the morning, and glancing at her dress, suggested that another time a similar protection to that of her companion would be advisable, and then left her to herself.

Scarcely was her back turned than Bertie, looking round the room with great disgust, turned to Katie and said:

“Isn’t it hateful? Just think of us made to work among factory-girls. I don’t see what my father could have been thinking of!”

Katie made no answer, but pointed to Miss Peters, and then to the rule for silence which was hung up conspicuously on the wall.

“Nonsense!” said Bertie, “that don’t mean me. I’m daughter of Mr Sanderson, the overseer of the bindery, don’t you know? It’s kind of funny that I should be in the rag-room among all the common girls, anyhow; but father said I’d got to begin work, and he guessed what wouldn’t hurt you wouldn’t hurt me. But for the thought that you were here I wouldn’t have come at all, no matter what pa said. Ma don’t think it genteel. I don’t see what made you come; don’t you think it’s disgusting?”

“No,” said Katie, “I wanted to come, and I think the factory is magnificent; besides, I want the money.”

“So do I,” said the other, “and pa said I should have all I earn till there’s enough to get a silk dress. I do want a silk dress so, don’t you?”

“No,” said Katie, “I don’t care;” but at this moment Miss Peters came toward them, saying,

“No talking, girls; you are new hands, or I should have to fine you; every time a girl speaks it’s a penny off of her day’s wages, but I’ll let you off this time. Bertie, you haven’t done a thing yet.”

Katie blushed, for though she had not stopped work a single moment, she had been tempted by her companion into breaking the rules; but Bertie looked up insolently at the superintendent as she slowly took up some of the rags, and muttered in a low tone, which was heard by most of her neighbors:

“Who’s going to mind you? You’re only a servant-girl, anyway;” for Miss Peters had, in her early life, “lived out.”

Whether Miss Peters heard or not Katie could not be sure, but she thought she saw a heightened color in the young woman’s face, and was just going to ask her companion how she could be guilty of such rudeness, when she remembered the rule in time, checked herself, and put her finger significantly on her lips.

As to Bertie, she stared round the room, working a little now and then, and talking aloud to herself as she could get no one to talk to her. Miss Peters was very indignant; but thought it best to take no notice just yet; for, as the girl had said, she was Mr. Sanderson’s daughter, and she did not know just how far it would do to enforce rules in her case.

The girls in the rag-room were dismissed at five o’clock, so, as the bindery did not close till six, Katie did not have the company of her brothers on her homeward walk, Bertie taking their place, and talking all the way about the indignity of working in a factory and the hardship of having to work at all. She told about her cousins in the city, who were quite fine ladies, according to Bertie’s account, doing nothing but play on the piano and do fancy-work. They were coming with their mother to make a visit in the summer, and how ashamed she should be to appear before them in the character of a paper-mill girl. The girl talked about her father in anything but a respectful manner, but seemed to find comfort in the thought of her silk dress. She had never had one yet, and it had long been the goal of her ambition. What color did Katie think would be becoming to her? How would she have it made? how trimmed?

“I’ll tell you what, Katie,” she said, “let’s take our money when we get it and get silks exactly alike; then we can wear them to Sunday-school together, and the other girls will see that it isn’t so mean to be factory-girls after all. Even Miss Mountjoy herself can wear nothing finer than silk, if she does always look so stuck up.”

But Katie failed to be infected with a desire for a silk dress. She had never worn anything but the plainest and poorest clothes, though they had always been whole, clean, and neatly made; her temptations did not lie in that line. She had insisted on beginning to work in order to help her mother support the family, and to make it a little easier for them all to get along. She admired pretty things, of course, as all girls do, but she had an intuitive feeling that Sunday-school was not the place in which to show off fine clothes. Bertie’s chatter did not please her, and though they were old friends, or rather companions, having been to both school and Sunday-school together for some years, she was glad when they parted at the corner house, which had once been the doctor’s, and she could go home to her mother.

For the little girl was tired by this time; she had got up much earlier than usual and had been on her feet all day, and besides the reaction of so much excitement, even though it had been of a pleasurable nature, was calculated to produce depression. Her mother was out when she got home, and there was nobody to welcome her but the gray cat, which did so, however, with the loudest of purrings, and the lounge in the warm room looked so comfortable that the tired little worker took pussy in her arms, lay down there, and began to think. She was not quite satisfied with her “first day.” The factory was quite as nice as she had expected, and Mr. James was nicer; but had she remembered “in all her ways to acknowledge God” and “to do all to his glory”? She was afraid not; she had broken the rules once, and had listened to Bertie’s chatter, while a desire had arisen in her heart, not for a silk dress, but for plenty of money, for a fine home, for a piano, and all the things that some girls had, and she had been tempted to think it hard that some people should have so much and some so little. Was God quite just to let it be so?

But, as she lay upon the lounge, rested by its soft cushions, warmed by the fire, and soothed by the purring of the cat, she began to be ashamed of such thoughts. How many comforts, how much happiness God had given her! A nice home, a loving mother, plenty to eat and wear, and health and strength to earn enough to make them all so much more comfortable. She knew that all good things come from God, and if he had not put it into the heart of Mr. Sanderson to speak to Mr. Mountjoy for her, she could not have got the situation in the mill. The forty cents she had earned to-day was directly God’s gift, and so would be all the money that ever came to her in the future. She ought to be a very thankful little girl, and she was quite ashamed of her questionings. So she dropped down upon her knees by the lounge, and asked God to forgive her for the sake of Jesus, and lying down again soon fell fast asleep.

When she awoke it was dark; the boys had come home; her mother had come in so quietly as not to awaken her daughter, tea was quite ready, and it was a very pleasant scene that her eyes, now entirely rested, opened upon, and a very happy, thankful little girl came to the table to eat the nice supper which awaited her.

After tea she and her brothers played games for some time; then Mrs. Robertson took her mending-basket, which was always very full, and Katie got her thimble and helped, while Eric read aloud from a book of “Stories from History.” And so closed the first day of Katie Robertson’s “factory life.”