sewing-machine all day was an unusual exertion, and when she reached her own room, with her arms full of the little white garments, she threw them on the bed, and threw herself on the couch, weary in every bone and muscle.
“Well, what luck?” said Nan, appearing at Patty’s doorway, herself all dressed for dinner.
“Oh, Nan,” cried Patty, laughing, “me legs is broke; and me arms is broke; and me back is broke. But I’m not nervous or worried, and I’m going to win out this time! But, Nan, I just can’t go down to dinner. Send Jane up with a tray,—there’s a dear. And tell father I’m all right, but I don’t care to mingle in society to-night.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re in good spirits,” said Nan, half annoyed, half laughing, as she saw the pile of white work on the bed.
“Run along, Nan, there’s a good lady,” said Patty, jumping up, and urging Nan out the door. “Skippy-skip, before father comes up to learn the latest news from the seat of war. Tell him everything is all right, and I’m earning my living with neatness and despatch, only working girls simply can’t get into chiffons and dine with the ‘quality.’”
Reassured by Patty’s gay air, Nan went downstairs, laughing, and told her husband that she believed Patty would yet accomplish her project.
“These experiences will do her no harm,” said Mr. Fairfield, after hearing Nan’s story. “So long as she doesn’t get nervous or mentally upset, we’ll let her go on with her experiment. She’s a peculiar nature, and has a wonderful amount of will-power for one so young.”
“I’ve always heard you were called stubborn,” said Nan, smiling, “though I’ve never seen it specially exemplified in your case.”
“One doesn’t need to be stubborn with such an angelic disposition as yours in the house,” he returned, and Nan smiled happily, for she knew the words were lovingly in earnest.
Meantime, Patty was sitting luxuriously in a big easy-chair, eating her dinner from the tray Jane had brought her.
“This is rather fun,” she thought; “and my, but running a sewing-machine does give one an appetite! I could eat two trays-full, I verily believe. Thank goodness, I’ve no more stitching to do.”
Having despatched her dinner, perhaps a trifle hastily, Patty reluctantly left her big easy-chair for a small rocker by the drop-light.
She wearily picked up a little gown, cut a buttonhole at the throat, and proceeded to work it. As she was so skilful at embroidery, of course this was easy work; but Patty was tired, and her fingers almost refused to push the needle through the cloth. About ten o’clock Nan came upstairs.
Patty was just sewing on the last button, the buttonholes being all done.
This fact made her jubilant.
“Nan!” she cried; “what do you think! I’ve made a whole dozen of these baby-slips to-day!”
“Patty! You don’t mean it! Why, my dear child, how could you?”
“On the machine. And they’re done neatly, aren’t they?”
“Yes, they are, indeed. But Patty——”
“What?”
“I hate to tell you,—but——”
“Oh, what is it, Nan? Is the material wrong side out?”
“No, you goosie, there’s no right or wrong side to cotton cloth, but——”
“Well, tell me!”
“Every one of these little sleeves is made upside down!”
“Oh, Nan! It can’t be!”
“Yes, they are, dearie. See, this wider part should have been at the top.”
“Oh, Nan, what shall I do? I thought they were sort of flowing sleeves, you know. Kimono-shaped ones, I mean.”
“No; they’re set wrong. Oh, Patty, why didn’t you let me help you? But you told me to keep away.”
“Yes, I know I did. Now, I’ve spoiled the whole dozen! I like them just as well that way, myself, but I know they’ll ‘deduct’ for it.”
“Patty, I don’t think you ought to do ‘white work’ anyway. How much are they going to pay you?”
“A dollar a dozen.”
“And you’ve done a dozen in a day. That won’t bring you fifteen dollars in a week.”
“Well, I thought the second dozen would go faster, and it probably will. And, of course, I shan’t make that mistake with the sleeves again. Truly, Nan, it’s a heap easier than embroidery.”
“Well, don’t worry over it to-night,” said Nan, kissing her. “Take a hot bath and hop into bed. Perhaps you have found the right work after all.”
Nan didn’t really think she had, but Patty had begun to look worried, and Nan feared she wouldn’t be able to sleep.
But sleep she did, from sheer physical exhaustion.
And woke next morning, almost unable to move! Every muscle in her body was lame from her strenuous machine work. She couldn’t rise from her bed, and could scarcely raise her head from the pillow.
When Catherine, Nan’s maid, came to her room, Patty said, faintly:
“Ask Mrs. Fairfield to come up, please.”
Nan came, and Patty looked at her comically, as she said:
“Nan, I’m vanquished, but not subdued. I’m just one mass of lameness and ache, but if you think I’ve given up my plan, you’re greatly mistaken. However, I’m through with ‘white work,’ and I’ve sewed my last sew on a machine.”
“Why, Patty girl, you’re really ill,” said Nan, sympathetically.
“No, I’m not! I’m perfectly well. Just a trifle lame from over-exercise yesterday. I’ll stay in bed to-day, and Nan, dear, if you love me, take those slips back to the kind lady who let me have them to play with. Make her pay you a dollar for the dozen, and don’t let her deduct more than a dollar for the upside-downness of the sleeves. Tell her they’re prettier that way, anyway. And, Catharine, do please rub me with some healing lotion or something,—for I’m as lame as a jelly-fish!”
“Patty,” said Nan, solemnly, “the occasion requires strong language. So I will remark in all seriousness, that, you do beat all!”
Chapter X.
The Clever Goldfish
FINANCIALLY, Patty came out just even on her ‘white work,’ for though the woman paid Nan the dollar for the dozen finished garments, she deducted the same amount for the wrongly placed sleeves.
She also grumbled at the long machine stitch Patty had used, but Nan’s patience was exhausted, and giving the woman a calm stare, she walked out of the shop.
“It’s perfectly awful,” she said to Patty, when relating her adventure, “to think of the poor girls who are really trying to earn their living by white work. It’s all very well for you, who are only experimenting, but suppose a real worker gets all her pay deducted!”
“There’s hardly enough pay to pay for deducting it, anyway,” said Patty. “Oh, Nan, it is dreadful! I suppose lots of poor girls who feel as tired and lame as I do this morning, have to go straight back to their sewing-machine and run it all day.”
“Of course they do; and often they’re of delicate constitutions, and insufficiently nourished.”
“It