Having had experience of concrete work, I applied for employment to an asphalte contractor. He was kind enough to give me a trial as an assistant foreman on a job he was doing at the Irkutsk prison. I was to take charge of ten men and women labourers. When I began I was met by an outburst of mirth on all sides. “Ha, ha,” they laughed, “a _baba_ holding a foreman’s place!” I paid no heed to the ridicule and went about my business quietly and gently. The men obeyed, and as they saw that I knew what I was about, began even to gain a respect for me. I was given for a first test the preparing of a floor. Stretching myself on the ground with the rest of the party, planning and working, I managed to finish my task a couple of hours ahead of my scheduled time, and marched the men triumphantly out of the building, to the utter amazement of the other foremen. My employer was in high glee. “Look at this _baba_!” he said. “She will have us men learning from her pretty soon. She should wear trousers.” The following day I was put in charge of twenty-five men. As they still regarded me as a queer novelty, I made a little speech to them, telling them that I was a plain peasant worker, only seeking to earn my bread. I appealed to their sense of fairness to co-operate with me. Sending for some vodka and sausages I treated them and won their good will completely. My men called me “Manka” affectionately, and we got along splendidly. I was such a curiosity that the contractor himself invited me to his home for tea. His wife, who was a very kind soul, told me that her husband had been praising me to her very much. The great test, however, came several days later. I had to prove my ability in preparing asphalte and applying it. We were all at work at four o’clock in the morning. As the quality of asphalte depends on the proportions of the elements used, the men were waiting with some amusement for my orders. But I gave them without hesitation, and when the contractor arrived at six o’clock he found the kettles boiling and the labourers hard at work, pouring the asphalte on the gravel. This work has to be done without relaxation, amid awful heat and suffocating odours. For a whole year I stayed at it, working incessantly, with no holidays and no other rest. Like a pendulum, always in motion, I would begin my daily grind before dawn, returning home after sunset, only to eat and go to bed to gain strength for another day of cheerless toil. Finally I broke down. I caught cold while working in a basement, and became so weak that I was taken to the Kuznetzov Hospital, where I was confined to bed for two months. When I recovered and had rested for about a week, I returned to my job, but found it occupied by a man who had been especially brought from European Russia. Besides, there wasn’t much work left for the firm in Irkutsk.