Some of us ain't built like that. We got to have some fun as we
go along, an' we're goin' to git it, you bet your sweet life, one way or
the other."
Soon after work was resumed, word was passed around that a big order had
come in, and nobody was to quit work until it was made up. A ripple of
sullen comment followed this announcement, but the girls bent to their
tasks with feverish energy.
At two o'clock the other new girl standing next to Nance grew faint, and
had to be stretched on the floor in the midst of the broken glass.
"She's a softie!" whispered Mag to Nance. "This ain't nothin' to what it
is in hot weather."
The pain between Nance's shoulders was growing intolerable, and her cut
fingers and aching feet made her long to cast herself on the floor beside
the other girl and give up the fight. But pride held her to her task.
After what seemed to her an eternity she again looked at the big clock
over the door. It was only three. How was she ever to endure three more
hours when every minute now was an agony?
Mag heard her sigh and turned her head long enough to say:
"Hang yer arms down a spell; that kind of rests 'em. You ain't goin' to
flop, too, are you?"
"Not if I can hold out."
"I knowed you was game all right," said Mag, with grim approval.
By six o'clock the last bottle was packed, and Nance washed the blood and
dirt off her hands and forced her swollen, aching feet into her shoes.
She jerked her jacket and tam-o'-shanter from the long row of hooks, and
half blind with weariness, joined the throng of women and girls that
jostled one another down the stairs.
Pages:
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133