She felt the drag of a lean and narrow life. The walls of the rooms were discordantly papered. The floors were covered with matting and the hall laid with a thin rag carpet. One could see that the furniture was of that poor, hurriedly patched together quality sold by the installment houses.
She sat with Minnie, in the kitchen, holding the baby until it began to cry. Then she walked and sang to it, until Hanson, disturbed in his reading, came and took it. A pleasant side to his nature came out here. He was patient. One could see that he was very much wrapped up in his offspring.
Now, now, he said, walking. There, there, and there was a certain Swedish accent noticeable in his voice.
Youll want to see the city first, wont you? said Minnie, when they were eating. Well, well go out Sunday and see Lincoln Park.
Carrie noticed that Hanson had said nothing to this. He seemed to be thinking of something else.
Well, she said, I think Ill look around to-morrow Ive got Friday and Saturday, and it wont be any trouble. Which way is the business part?
Minnie began to explain, but her husband took this part of the conversation to himself.
Its that way, he said, pointing east. Thats east. Then he went off into the longest speech he had yet indulged in, concerning the lay of Chicago. Youd better look in those big manufacturing houses along Franklin Street and just the other side of the river, he concluded. Lots of girls work there. You could get home easy, too. It isnt very far.
Carrie nodded and asked her sister about the neighborhood. The latter talked in a subdued tone, telling the little she knew about it, while Hanson concerned himself with the baby. Finally he jumped up and handed the child to his wife.
Ive got to get up early in the morning, so Ill go to bed, and off he went, disappearing into the dark little bedroom off the hall, for the night.
He works way down at the stock-yards, explained Minnie, so hes got to get up at half-past five.
What time do you get up to get breakfast? asked Carrie.
At about twenty minutes of five. Together they finished the labor of the day, Carrie washing the dishes while Minnie undressed the baby and put it to bed. Minnies manner was one of trained industry, and Carrie could see that it was a steady round of toil with her[11].
She began to see that her relations with Drouet would have to be abandoned. He could not come here. She read from the manner of Hanson, in the subdued air of Minnie, and, indeed, the whole atmosphere of the flat, a settled opposition to anything save a conservative round of toil. If Hanson sat every evening in the front room and read his paper, if he went to bed at nine, and Minnie a little later, what would they except of her? She saw that: she would first need to get work and establish herself on a paying basis before she could think of having company of any sort. Her little flirtation with Drouet seemed now an extraordinary thing.
No, she said to herself, he cant come here. She asked Minnie for ink and paper, which were upon the mantel in the dining-room, and when the latter had gone to bed at ten, got out Drouets card and wrote him.
I cannot have you call on me here. You will have to wait until you hear from me again. My sisters place is so small.
Finally, wearied by her own reflections, she began to grow dull in her chair, and feeling the need of sleep, arranged her clothing for the night and went to bed.
When she awoke at eight the next morning, Hanson had gone. Her sister was busy in the dining-room, which was also the sitting-room, sewing. She worked, after dressing, to arrange a little breakfast for herself, and then advised with Minnie as to which way to look. The latter had changed considerably since Carrie had seen her. She was now a thin, though rugged, women of twenty-seven, with ideas of life coloured by her husbands and fast hardening into narrower conceptions of pleasure and duty than had ever been hers in a thoroughly circumscribed youth. She had invited Carrie, not because she longed for her presence, but because the latter was dissatisfied at home, and could probably get work and pay her board here. She was pleased to see her in a way but reflected her husbands point of view in the matter of work. Anything was good enough so long as it paid say, five dollars a week to begin with.
It was under such auspicions circumstances that she started out this morning to look for work. She walked east along Van Buren Street through a region of lessening importance, until it deteriorated into a mass of shanties and coal-yards[12], and finally verged upon the river. She walked bravely forward, led by an honest desire to find employment and delayed at every step by the interest of the unfolding scene, and a sense of helplessness amid so much evidence of power and force which she did not understand.
Chapter III
We Question of Fortune: Four Fifty a Week
Once across the river and into the wholesale district she glanced about her for some likely door at which to apply. As she contemplated the wide windows and imposing signs, she became conscious of being gazed upon and understood for what she was a wage seeker. She had never done this thing before, and lacked courage. To avoid a certain indefinable shame she felt at being caught spying about for a position, she quickened her steps and assumed an air of indifference supposedly common to one upon an errand. In this way she passed many manufacturing and wholesale houses without once glancing in. At last, after several blocks of walking, she felt that this would not do, and began to look about again though without relaxing her pace. A little way on she saw a great door which, for some reason, attracted her attention. It was ornamented by a small brass sign, and seemed to be the entrance to a vast hive of six or seven floors. Perhaps, she though, they may want some one, and crossed over to enter. When she came within a score of feet of the desired goal, she saw through the window a young man in a gray checked suit. That he had anything to do with the concern, she could not tell but because he happened to be looking in her direction her weakening heart misgave her and she hurried by, too overcome with shame to enter. Over the way stood a great six-story structure, labeled Storm and King, which she viewed with rising hope. It was a wholesale dry goods concern and employed women. She could see them moving about now and then upon the upper floors. This place she decided to enter, no matter what. She crossed over and walked directly toward the entrance. As she did so, two men came out and paused in the door. A telegraph messenger in blue dashed past her and up the few steps that led to the entrance and disappeared. Several pedestrians out of the hurrying throng which filled the sidewalks passed about her as she paused, hesitating. She looked helplessly around, and then, seeing herself observed, retreated. It was too difficult a task. She could not go past them.
So serve a defeat told upon her nerves. Her feet carried her mechanically forward, every foot of her progress being a satisfactory portion of a flight which she gladly made. Block after block passed by.
Her cowardice began to trouble her in a way. She turned back, resolving to hunt up Storm and King and enter. On the way she encountered a great wholesale shoe company, through the broad plate windows of which she saw an enclosed executive department, hidden by frosted glass. Without this enclosure, but just within the street entrance, sat a grey-haired gentleman at a small table, with a large open ledger before him. She walked by this institution several times hesitating, but finding herself unobserved, faltered past the screen door and stood humbly waiting.
Well, young lady, observed the old gentleman, looking at her somewhat kindly, what is it you wish?
I am, that is, do you I mean, do you need any help? she stammered.
Not just at present, he answered smiling. Not just at present. Come in some time next week. Occasionally we need some one.
She received the answer in silence and backed awkwardly out. The pleasant nature of her reception rather astonished her. She had expected that it would be more difficult, that something cold and harsh would be said she knew not what. That she had not been put to shame and made to feel her unfortunate position, seemed remarkable.
Somewhat encouraged, she ventured into another large structure. It was a clothing company, and more people were in evidence well dressed men of forty and more, surrounded by brass railings.
An office boy approached her.
Who is it you wish to see? he asked.
I want to see the manager, she said.
He ran away and spoke to one of a group of three men who were conferring together. One of these came towards her.
Well? he said coldly. The greeting drove all courage from her at once.
Do you need any help? she stammered.
No, he replied abruptly, and turned upon his heel.
She went foolishly out, the office boy deferentially swinging the door for her, and gladly sank into the obscuring crowd. It was a severe setback to her recently pleased mental state.
High noon came, and with it hunger. She hunted out unassuming restaurant and entered, but was disturbed to find the prices were exorbitant for the size of her purse. A bowl of soup was all that she could afford, and with this quickly eaten, she went out again. It restored her strength somewhat and made her moderately bold to pursue the search.
In walking a few blocks to fix upon some probable place, she again encountered the firm of Storm and King, and this time managed to get in. Some gentlemen were conferring close at hand, but took no notice of her. She was left standing, gazing nervously upon the floor. When the limit of her distress had been nearly reached, she was beckoned to by a man at one of the many desks within the nearby railing.
Who is it you wish to see? he inquired.
Why, any one, if you please, she answered. I am looking for something to do.
Oh, you want to see Mr. McManus, he returned. Sit down, and he pointed to a chair against the neighboring wall. He went on leisurely writing, until after a time a short, stout gentlemen came in from the street.
Mr. McManus, called the man at the desk, this young women wants to see you
The short gentlemen turned about towards Carrie, and she rose and came forward.
What can I do for you, miss? he inquired, surveying her curiously.
I want to know if I can get a position, she inquired.
As what? he asked.
Not as anything in particular, she faltered.
Have you ever had any experience in the wholesale dry goods business? he questioned.
No, sir, she replied.
Are you a stenographer or typewriter?
No, sir.
Well, we havent anything here, he said. We employ only experienced help.
She began to step backward toward the door, when something about her plaintive face attracted him.
Have you ever worked at anything before? he inquired.
No, sir, she said.
Well, now, its hardly possible that you would get anything to do in a wholesale house of this kind. Have you tried the department stores?
She acknowledged that she had not.
Well, if I were you, he said, looking at her rather genially, I would try the department stores. They often need young women as clerks.
Thank you, she said, her whole nature relieved by this spark of friendly interest.
Yes, he said, as she moved toward the door, you try the department stores, and off he went.
At the time the department store was in its earliest form of successful operation, and there were not many The first three in the United States, established about 1884, were in Chicago. Carrie was familiar with the names of several through the advertisements in the Daily News, and now proceeded to seek them. The words of Mr. McManus had somehow managed to restore her courage, which had fallen low, and she dared to hope that this new line would offer her something. Sometime she spent in wandering up and down, thinking to encounter the buildings by chance, so readily is the mind, bent upon prosecuting a hard but needful errand, eased by that self-deception which the semblance of search, without the reality, gives. At last she inquired of a police officer, and was directed to proceed two blocks up, where she would find The Fair.
On the second floor were the managerial offices, to which, after some inquiry, she was now directed. There she found other girls ahead of her, applicants like herself. but with more of that self-satisfied and independent air which experience of the city lends; girls who scrutinized her in a painful manner. After a wait of perhaps three quarters of an hour, she was called in turn.
Now, said a sharp, quick-mannered Jew, who was sitting at a roll-top desk near the windows, have you even worked in any other store?
No, sir, said Carrie.
Oh, you havent, he said, eyeing her keenly.
No, sir, she replied.
Well, we prefer young women just now with some experience. I guess we cant use you.
Carrie stood waiting a moment, hardly certain whether the interview had terminated.
Dont wait! he exclaimed. Remember we are very busy here.
Carrie began to move quickly to the door.
Hold on, he said, calling her back. Give me your name and address. We want girls occasionally.
When she had gotten safely into the street, she could scarcely restrain the tears. It was not so much the particular rebuff which she had just experienced, but the whole abashing trend of the day. She was tried and nervous. She abandoned the thought of appealing to the other department stores and now wandered on, feeling a certain safety and relief in mingling with the crowd.
In her indifferent wandering she turned into Jackson Street, nor far from the river, and was keeping her way along the south side of that imposing thoroughfare, when a piece of wrapping paper, written on with marking ink and tacked up on the door, attracted her attention. It read, Girls wanted wrappers & stitchers. She hesitated a moment, then entered.
The firm of Speigelheim & Co, makers of boys caps, occupied one floor of the building, fifty feet in width and some eighty feet in depth. It was a place rather dingily lighted, the darkest portions having incandescent lights, filled with machines and work benches. At the latter labored quite a company of girls and some men. The former were drabby-looking creatures, stained in face with oil and dust, clad in thin, shapeless, cotton dresses and shod with more or less worn shoes.
Carrie looked about her, very much disturbed and quite sure that she did not want to work here. Aside from making her uncomfortable by sidelong glances, no one paid her the least attention. She waited until the whole department was aware of her presence. Then some word was sent around, and a foreman, in an apron and shirt sleeves, the latter rolled up to his shoulders, approached.
Do you want to see me? he asked.
Do you need any help? said Carrie, already learning directness of address.
Do you know how to stitch caps? he returned.
No, sir, she replied.
Have you ever had any experience at this kind of work? he inquired.