At least I had a job, however poor, and strengthened by this thought I determined to find something better before Monday. The ten-cent piece lay an inviting fortune in my hand. I was to part with one-tenth of it in exchange for a morning newspaper. This investment seemed a reckless plunge, but "nothing venture, nothing have," my pioneer spirit prompted, and soon deep in the list of _Wanted, Females_, I felt repaid. Even in my destitute condition I had a choice in mind. If possible I wanted to work without machinery in a shop where the girls used their hands alone as power. Here seemed to be my heart's content--a short, concise advertisement, "Wanted, hand sewers." After a consultation with a policeman as to the whereabouts of my future employer, it became evident that I must part with another of my ten cents, as the hand sewers worked on the opposite side of the city from the neighbourhood whither I had strayed in my morning's wanderings. I took a car and alighted at a busy street in the fashionable shopping centre of Chicago. The number I looked for was over a steep flight of dirty wooden stairs. If there is such a thing as luck it was now to dwell a moment with one of the poorest. I pushed open a swinging door and let myself into the office of a clothing manufacturer. The owner, Mr. F., got up from his desk and came toward me. "I seen your advertisement in the morning paper." "Yes," he answered in a kindly voice. "Are you a tailoress?" "No, sir; I've never done much sewing except on a machine." "Well, we have machines here." "But," I almost interrupted, beginning to fear that my training at Perry was to limit all further experience to an electric Singer, "I'd rather work with my hands. I like the hand-work." He looked at me and gave me an answer which exactly coincided with my theories. He said this, and it was just what I wanted him to say. "If you do hand-work you'll have to use your mind. Lots of girls come in here with an idea they can let their thoughts wander; but you've got to pay strict attention. You can't do hand-work mechanically." "All right, sir," I responded. "What do you pay?" "I'll give you six dollars a week while you're learning." I could hardly control a movement of delight. Six dollars a week! A dollar a day for an apprentice! "But"--my next question I made as dismal as possible--"when do you pay?" "Generally not till the end of the second week," the kindly voice said; "but we could arrange to pay you at the end of the first if you needed the money." "Shall I come in Monday?" "Come in this afternoon at 12:30 if you're ready." "I'm ready," I said, "but I ain't brought no lunch with me, and it's too late now to get home and back again." The man put his hand in his pocket and laid down before me a fifty-cent piece, advanced on my pay. "Take that," he said, with courtesy; "get yourself a lunch in the neighbourhood and come back at half-past twelve."