a ruinous
goal. They scorn the hand-workers; they feel themselves a _noblesse_ by
comparison. They are the American snobs whose coat of arms marks not a
well-remembered family but prospective luxuries.... Married, they bring
as a portion thriftless tastes, to satisfy which more than one business
man has wrecked his career. They work like men; why should they not live
as men do, with similar responsibilities? What should we think of a
class of masculine clerks and employees who spent all their money on
clothes?

The boss was busy when I got back to the clothing establishment. From
the bench where I waited for orders I could take an inventory of the
shop's productions. Arrayed in rows behind glass cases there were all
manner of uniforms: serious uniforms going to the colonies to be shot to
pieces, militia uniforms that would hear their loudest heart-beats under
a fair head; drum-majors' hats that would never get farther than the
peaceful lawn of a military post; fireman's hats; the dark-blue coat of
a lonely lighthouse guardian; the undignified short jacket of a
"buttons." All that meant parade and glory, the uniforms that make men
identical by making each proud of himself for his brass buttons and gold
lace. Even in the heavy atmosphere of the shop's rear, though they
appeared somewhat dingy and tarnished, they had their undeniable charm,
and I thought with pity of the hands that had to sew on plain serge
suits.

[Illustration: IN A CHICAGO THEATRICAL COSTUME FACTORY]

As soon as the boss saw me, the generous Mr. F. who advanced me the
fifty cents smiled at the skeptical Mr. F. who had never expected to see
me again. One self said to the other: "I told you so!" and all the
kindly lines in the man's face showed that he had looked for the best
even in his inferiors and that he had found mankind worth trusting. He
was the most generous employer I met with anywhere; I also took him to
be the least businesslike. But, as though quickly to establish the law
of averages, his head forewoman counterbalanced all his mercies by her
ferocious crossness. She terrorized everybody, even Mr. F. It was to
her, I concluded, that we owed our $6 a week. No girl would stay for
less; it was an atelier chiefly of foreign employees; the proud American
spirit would not stand the lash of Frances' tongue. She had been ten
years in the place whose mad confusion was order to her. Mr. F. did not
dare to send her away; he preferred keeping a perpet