The Woman Who Toils: Being the Experiences of Two Gentlewomen as Factory GirlsVan Vorst, John, Mrs.
History
The Woman Who Toils: Being the Experiences of Two Gentlewomen as Factory Girls
Van Vorst, John, Mrs.
Child labor -- United States; Women -- Employment -- United States; Working class -- United States
in chromo, oils are imitated in lithograph, white carved wood frames are
imitated in applications of pressed brass. Great works of art are
belittled by processes cheap enough to be within reach of the poorest
pocket. Framed pictures are turned out by the thousand dozens, every
size, from the smallest domestic scene, which hangs over the baby's crib
in a Harlem flat, to the large wedding-present size placed over the
piano in the front parlour. The range of subjects covers a familiar
list of comedies or tragedies--the partings before war, the interior
behind prison bars, the game of marbles, the friendly cat and dog, the
chocolate girl, the skipper and his daughter, etc., etc.
My job is easy, but slow. With a hammer and tacks I fasten four tin
mouldings to the four corners of a gilt picture frame. Twenty-five cents
for a hundred is the pay given me, and it takes me half a day to do this
many; but my comrades don't allow me to get discouraged.
"You're doing well," a red-haired _vis-a-vis_ calls to me across the
table. And the foreman, who comes often to see how I am getting along,
tells me that the next day we are to begin team-work, which pays much
better.
The hours are ten a day: from seven until five thirty, with twenty-five
minutes at noon instead of half an hour. The extra five minutes a day
mount up to thirty minutes a week and let us off at five on Saturdays.
The conversation around me leads me to suppose that my companions are
not downtrodden in any way, nor that they intend letting work interfere
with happiness. They have in their favour the most blessed of all
gifts--youth. The tragic faces one meets with are of the women
breadwinners whose burdens are overwhelming and of the children in whom
physical fatigue arrests development and all possibility of pleasure.
My present team-mates and those along the rest of the room are Americans
between fourteen and twenty-four years of age, full of unconscious hope
for the future, which is natural in healthy, well-fed youth, taking
their work cheerily as a self-imposed task in exchange for which they
can have more clothes and more diversions during their leisure hours.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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