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An Anarchist Woman

An Anarchist Woman

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Chapter 1 No.1

Word Count: 2101    |    Released on: 01/12/2017

and F

aintance. She had been deeply helped to do this by a man of strange character, with whom she lived. She had also been deeply helped by vice and misery. The intensity of her nature showed in her an?mic body and her large eyes, dark and glowing, but more than all in the way she had of making everything her own, no matter from what source it came. Everything she s

ty truly international. Her father was a drunken machinist of German extraction, generally out of a job.

natural childhood. The beatings she received from her parents and the joy of her escape to the street-these are the strongest impressions derived from her tender years. To her the street was paradise; her home, hell. She k

. She was not quite ten years old at the time, and the memories she has of her school life are only a trifle less unpleasant th

e nervous and impatient, glancing often at the big clock which ticked so monotonously and slowly. Soon it would be twelve o'clock and teacher and pupils would have a respite for a few hours. If only those stupid children would solve those problems in arithmetic, the most difficult stu

blem and was dismissed. The other children looked at his work and quickly copied it before the teacher could erase it from the blackboard. Not I, however, for I was at the other end of the room and my eyes were weak. I enviously watched the other children leaving the room, until I was a

e said, 'you will neve

'm so glad. Then I'll never, never have to study arithmetic any more. Oh, how I wish next week were here already.' I was not quite twelve years old and I

-seed and flavouring extracts to bluing and lye, the latter the principal article. Mr. Hardwin, a benevolent looking old gentleman with a white beard and a skull-cap, glanced at the certificate, and patting stupid me kindly on the head, hired me for two dollars a week, and sent me upstairs

hat way, and gradually work themselves upwards. So I waited patiently for the time when I might, perhaps, secure the position of labelling. The

the older and more experienced girls to secure the best gloves for the work. The old, worn out ones, which were full of holes, fell to me, who was too young and timid to rebel against these conditions. After a week of this work my hands were all eaten by the lye and it was

mething else until my hands were healed. He looked at my swollen fingers and said: 'My poor girl, y

to cover the cans of lye after they were filled. This belt as it whirled round and round made a great noise. But I soon grew quite used to it. I became like a machine myself. All alone I sat there, day after day, while the great belt whirred out the same monotonous song. I kept time to its monotony by a few movements of the hands endlessly repeated, turning out boxes and boxes and boxe

ut me. Sometimes the girls made me the butt of their jests, for they were envious of me, because of my easy job, and hinted that I

went away. I had been working perhaps two months at this job, when one morning it happened that I was the first one of the employees to arrive at the factory. While I was in the dressing-room removing my wraps, a knock came on the door, and Mr. Hardwin entered. Quickly seizing me in his arms, he covered my face with kisses, and did not quit until he heard someone approaching. He left hastily, saying 'Don't tell!' the

cleanest and most wholesome place I ever worked in. We had a whole hour for dinner, and the boys and girls were all so jolly. Nearly every day after lunch we played on mouth organs and danced on the smooth floor until the whistle blew for work again. Oh, there, it was good to work! Three times a day each employee received a bottle of nice cold beer, which, after several hours of hard work, tasted lovely. The people there seemed to think it wa

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