Lizzy Glenn; Or, The Trials of a Seamstress

ad ridden from Lexington, a handsome carriage, containing a mother and three happy children, about the age of himself, Emma, and the sister who had just died, drove rapidly by. The children were full

full-hearted boy. His thoughts were going b

build fine houses, and yet not be able to pay more than the meagre pittance for his work that the reader has seen doled out to his half-starving workwomen? How could his children be fed and clothed sumptuously every day, and the widow, who worked for him from early dawn until the silent watches of midnight, not be able to get wholesome bread and warm garment

t compensation for their labor. The record of a conversation overheard between two of the class alluded to will illustrate this matter. They were tailors-or, rather, what are sometimes called slop-shop, or clothing men. Let it not be supposed that tailors alone are the oppressors of workwomen. In most of the employments at which females engage, especially such as admit of a competition in labor, advantage is taken of the eager demand for work, and prices reduced to the lowest possible standard. In the eager scramble for monopolizing more than a just share of custom, or to increase the amount of sales by the temptation of extremely moderate rates, the prices of goods are put down to the lowest scale they will bear. If, in doing this

lors, of Boston, to the junior partner of the establishment. "The nimble sixpence is better than the slow shilling, you know. W

be a pretty decent

cent one that can be bettered,"

ours be b

tain

ow

ing more

we to d

d then making a confounded nois

r prices are

us beyond the present income quite handsomely. But, to do this, we must cut down the prices now paid for making up our clothe

it? Our needlewomen, parti

many willing to step in and take their places. Besides, what are three or four cents to them on a vest, or pair of pants, or jacket? The difference in a week is small and will not be missed-or, at the worst, will only r

idea. "Well, I'm with you," he said, after a little while, "in any scheme for increasing profits. Getting along at the rate of only some two or three thousand a year is rather slow wo

house do the same before three ye

his cutting-down game, we

ith them. If we do, our ears will be dinned to death with trumped-up tales of poverty and distress, and all that sort of thing, with which we have no kind of concern in the world. These are matters perso

ars a week, and some never go beyond a dollar. Many of them are mothers, and most of them have some one or more dependent upon them. Food, re

of, are very cheap. The actual necessaries of life cost but little, you know. How far above the condition of the starving Irish, o

"I think we had better put the screws on to our workwomen and

store, we will arrange our new bill of pric

word. And it happened just as they s

eturn from ou

late, at the prices she obtained for her labor, could not earn enough to provide a sufficiency of food and clothes for her children-that child passed on, unheeding, and, indeed, unhearing the jibes of the happier children

g from his vehicle. "He is rather smaller and punier than I lik

throughout; and, with all, rather a sharp voice. She had no children of her own-those te

Henry," repli

ry w

believe. Isn't

he affirmative. Mr

arp, Henry. She will tell y

as she spoke, and retired into the more inte

ing woman, whose cupidity and that of her husband have prompted them to get a little boy as a matter of saving-one who could do the errands for the shop and the drudgery for the hou

surveying him from head to foot. "But I suppose she thinks they will do well enough; and I suppose they will. There, do you see that wo

ut from that time he had few moments of relaxation, except what the night gave him, or the quiet Sabbath. All through the first day he was kept bu

loudly for "lazying it away" in bed until after sunrise. Quickly getting up and dressing himself, he went down and commenced upon a new day of toil. First he had to bring in wood, then to grind the coffee, afterward to bring water from the pump, and then to scour the knives for breakfast. When these were done, he was sent into the shop to see if Mr. Sharp didn't want him, where he found plenty to occupy his attention. The shop was to be sprinkled and swept out, the counter to be dusted, and various other little matters to be attended to, which occupied

hey would do." They were not very warm, it is true-that she could not help admitting. "But then he is used to wearing thinner clothes than other children," she reasoned, "or else his mother wo

s within the circle of its vision-and it always irritated her. And why? It reproved her for not providing warmer clothes for the child; and hurt her penurious spirit with the too palpable conviction that before many weeks had passed they would be compelled to lay out some money for "the brat," as she had begun freque

ed until it was many shades darker, and his hair stood stiffly about his head, in matted portions, looking as if a comb had not touched it for weeks. One would hardly have imagined that so great a change could have passed upon a boy in a few weeks as had passed over him. When he left his mother's humble abode, there was something about him that instantly attracted the eye of almost any one who looked at him attentively, and won f

gh they were, they yet afforded a most comfortable substitute for those their welcome appearance had caused him to throw aside. But the pair of shoes he had worn when he left Boston were still considered good enough, if thought of at all, notwithstanding they gaped largely at the toes, and had been worn so thin in the soles that scarcely the thickness of a knife-blade lay between his feet and the snow-covered ground. In regard to sleeping, he was not much better off. His bed was of

t Mr. Sharp had forgotten, or would disregard his promise. The bright morning of another new year at length arose, clear and piercingly cold, and Henry crept early from his bed, and went down stairs to make the fires as usual. Whe

ther to-day, sir?" was on his to

o'clock came and went, and the poor child's anxious heart began to fail him. Several times he was on the point of recalling to the mind of Mr. Sharp, his promise to his mother that he should be sent home at New Year's, but as often his

said he, with a sudden, despairing resolutio

ked Mrs. Sharp, coming fo

k back, and stood with

did he say,

re!" replied the hatter, in a

y what put that into his he

home to see her on New Year's day," th

imed Sharp, in an angry voice, at this, half ra

o meet for many long and weary days of suffering and privation, was at an end. Slowly he left

athless surprise. "Sent home on New Year's day to his mammy! A pretty

her, just to pacify her, though I had no thought of doing it; and, indeed, I don't suppose she cares

n't she keep him at home with her tied all the whi

o have done that. No doubt she was glad enoug

er who is not willing to work to take care

returned t

f stories about not being treated well, so as to prevails upon her not to let him come back. I know just how boys l

estion this winter," replied Sharp. "If his mother c

Her tender voice was in his ear, and his head rested on her bosom. She clothed him in warmer garments, and set him beside her at the table, upon which was tempting food. But morning came at last, and he was awakened from visions of delig

vain. It mattered not that, every-time the shop-door opened when he was in it, he turned with a quickened pulse to see if it were not his mother, or that he would pause and listen, whe

th of January, the long and cold winter add