“God forbid, Miss” ses I, and wint to wark. Miss Claire is horty agin, and she ses wid a cold look at me: “Very well thin Delia, till the 24th then. Come mother.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER II NEXT DAY Its a weery world. Here I be, a poor loansome female alone in this crool city warking for foaks wid lether harts. “O wirra, wirra, wirra” as me auld mother used to say. Aroze. Dressed. Washed. I wint to see me frind Minnie Carnavan last nite and feel better the day. Ses she: “Its a fool you be Delia O’Mally. The Idear of you doing all the wark in a family of 6. Its no more sinse you seem to have than an eediot. Delia ses she, its the gurls thats been here long thats foolish like yursilf. They get stook wid wan famly who hangs on to thim for deer life. The new wans—green from the auld cuntry arent hiring out to do gineral housewark. Its cooking in a family of 1 or 2 theyre looking for and getting. Its lite chamberwark or waiting on a table or the like. Theres never a one so green as to hire out to do the hole wark of a family. Your auld fashuned and saft” ses she, “Go down to Mack’s on 3rd Ave. Git a job for a munth or so as capper.” “And what is that?” “Well you tak a job” ses Minnie, “but you don’t kape it.” “And what wud be the sinse of taking it for thin?” “Why you gump for ivery place you tak Mack gits a fee of $3. You get harf for fooling thim.” “Its an onest gurl I am” ses I wid scorn, “and its ashamed I’d be to mix mesilf in any such mess as that.” “Well then” ses she “go down to the Alluyance. Its a place where they get jobs for the rich.” “And what wud I be doing there?” “Don’t you mind what I’m after meening? Its the rich ladies who pathronize them. Its a foine thing indade for thim. The Alluyunce fills oop there houses wid the sarvants. If a lady walks in modestly asking swately for a gurl for gineral housewark, they taks the fee of two or three or maybe five dollars, and thin smilingly infarm her that gineral housewarkers are an oonown quolity. ‘Tak a cook’ ses Miss Flimflam, seeted at a desk. ‘But’ ses the lady, luking very thrubbled, ‘a cook wont do anny other work at all.’” “Sumtimes they do lite londry wark.” ses Miss Flimflam, yoning perlitely in her hand. “Will they clean?” “Land no!” “Wate on table?” “Certainly not.” “Thin” ses the lady in disthress, “What am I to do? I moost have me wark dun.” “Why” ses the clerk, a little more awake, “hire other girls, as the rist of our pathrons do.” “Oh” ses the lady. “I suppose” ses she after a moment of deep and thrubbled thort, “if I get an exthra woman in to clean and wate on table the cook will wark cheeper?” “Hm?” ses the lady at the disk. “I big yure pardin?” “She’d wark cheeper, I sed?”