The Dollar with the Counters—In the Tubs—Getting a Wetting—Servants of Necessity—That Scorching Roof—Brown Paper Bonnets—Earning their Daily Dollar—The Work Progressing—In the Press—A State of Dampness—Squaring Accounts—Calling for a Thousand Sheets—Accounting for Them—Superintending the Work—The Face-printing Division—The United States “Sealer”—One Hundred and Thirty-five Presses at Work—Printing Cigar-Stamps and Gold-Notes of Many Colors—Presses “Flying”—Quick with Dangerous Motion—With a Begrimed Face—The “Help-mate” of his Toil—The Fiery Little Brazier—What the Man Does—The Woman’s Work-The Automatic Register—An Observer Without a Soul—Our Damp Little Dollar—The Drying Room—The First Wrinkles—Looking Wizened and Old—Rejuvenating a Dollar—Underneath Two Hundred and Forty Tons—Smooth and Polished—Precious to the Touch—A Virgin Dollar—The “Sealer” at Work—Mutilated Paper—What the Women are Paid—The Surface-Sealing Division—Seal Printing—The Aristocratic Green Seal—The Numbering Division—Attended Solely by Women and Girls—Critically Examined—A Lady Charged with Errors—Securing Adequate Care—Dividing the Dollars—To Start Alone—Ladies Serene at Work—Snowy Aprons and Delicate Ribbons—Needling the Sheet—A Blade that Does Not Fail—Sorting the Notes—The Manipulation of the Ladies—The Dollar “in its Little Bed”—Dollar on Dollar—“Awaiting the Final Call”—The Mandate of Uncle Sam—Fourteen Divisions—Making up Accounts—Tracing a Note—A Perfect System of “Checks”—The Safeguards—The Chief of the Bureau. O my! that dollar! I left far back, flying through the fair hands (more or less) of thirty lovely “counters,” to find it here, sopped in the tubs of the “wetters.” Long trough-like tubs run down the middle of an attic-room, at whose sides the roof slopes so low, a child could not stand under it. Even at its apex, a slender girl beside her tub can scarcely stand upright. At either side of the long troughs are rowed maids and matrons, some fair and young, some old and worn, all bearing unmistakably the mark of the servant of necessity. So near and hot to the brain is the scorching roof, each woman wears upon her head a covering of brown paper, for protection. Who will say these lowly servants of the Government do not earn the scanty pittance of their daily dollar?