In our department there were three boys who raced up and down with trucks; one other who wrapped the sheets when he did not have his arm gayly around some girl; and the little man to pack the goods in their shipping boxes and nail them up. There were two forewomen—pretty, freckled-faced Tess and the masculine Winnie. Over all of us was “Hap,” the new boss elected by Department 10 as its representative on the Board of Operatives. It is safe to say he will be re-elected as long as death or promotion spare him. Hap is a distinct success. He never seems to notice anybody or anything—in fact, most of the time you wonder where in the world he is. But on Hap's shoulders rests the output for our entire department. The previous “boss” was the kind who felt he must have his nose in everything and his eye on everybody. The month after Hap and his methods of letting folks alone came into power, production jumped ahead. But Hap spoke up when he felt the occasion warranted it. The mangle girls started quitting at 11.30. They “got by” with it until the matter came to Hap's notice. He lined the four of them up and, while the whole room looked on with amused interest, he told them what was what. After that they stayed till 12. Another time a piece-rate girl allowed herself to be overpaid two dollars and said nothing about it. Hap called her into the office. “Didn't you get too much in your envelope this week?” “I dunno. I 'ain't figured up yet.” “Don't you keep track of your own work?” “Yes, but I 'ain't figured up yet.” “Bring me your card.” The girl reddened and produced a card with everything up to date and two dollars below the amount in her pay envelope. “You better take a week off,” said Hap. But he repented later in the afternoon and took it back, only he told her to be more careful. It was the bundler who took me under her wing that first day—pretty Mamie O'Brien—three generations in the Falls. There was no talk of vamping, no discussions of beaus. Everyone told everything she had done since Saturday noon. “Hey, Margaret, didjagototha movies Saturday night?” “Sure. Swell, wasn't it?” “You said it. I 'ain't ever saw sweller....” “I seen Edna's baby Sunday. Awful cute. Had on them pink shoes Amy made it....” “Say, ain't that awful about Mr. Tinney's grandchild over to Welkville! Only lived three hours....” “They're puttin' in the bathtub at Owenses'....” “What dya know! After they got the bathroom all papered at Chases' they found they'd made a mistake and it's all got to be ripped down. Bathtub won't fit in.” (“Improvements” were one of the leading topics of conversation day in and day out at the Falls.) “Ain't that new hat of Jess Tufts a fright? I 'ain't never saw her look worse.”