hands. Girls work much faster. They finish in half that time. The boss
is kind. He lets me take the work home, now that I am old and the noise
of the machine bothers my head. If it wasn't for his kindness, I'd
starve.

"Yes, those who work in the shop get eight cents. But what can you do?
There is not enough work for the young. The old have no chance. Often
one pair is all I can get. Sometimes, like to-day, I am given eight pair
to finish before night."

I asked her the hours she worked, and she said it depended on the
season.

"In the summer, when there is a rush order, I work from five in the
morning to nine at night. But in the winter it is too cold. The hands do
not early get over the stiffness. Then you must work later--till after
midnight sometimes.

"Yes, it has been a bad summer. The hard times. God must be angry.
This is the first work the boss has given me in a week. It is true, one
cannot eat much when there is no work. I am used to it. I have sewed
all my life, in the old country and here in San Francisco--thirty-three
years.

"If you are sure of the rent, it is all right. The houseman is very
kind, but he must have his rent. It is fair. He only charges three
dollars for this room. That is cheap. But it is not easy for you to find
all of three dollars every month."

She ceased talking, and, nodding her head, went on stitching.