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
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