The Woman Who Toils
At the central office of the Young Women's Christian Association I receive what attention a busy secretary can spare me. She questions and I answer as best I can.
"What is it you want?"
"Board and work in a factory."
"Have you ever worked in a factory?"
"Have you ever done any housework?"
She talks in the low, confidential tone of those accustomed to reforming prisoners and reasoning with the poor.
"Yes, ma'am, I have done housework."
"What did you make?"
"Twelve dollars a month."
"I can get you a place where you will have a room to yourself and fourteen dollars a month. Do you want it?"
"Are you making anything now?"
"Can you afford to pay board?"
"Yes, as I hope to get work at once."
She directs me to a boarding place which is at the same time a refuge for the friendless and a shelter for waifs. The newly