The state rights democrat. [volume] (Albany, Linn County, Oregon) 1865-1900, 1879-08-08
Shop Girls.
THz LIFE OF THE LONDON ''sALEs LADY. y


incomes and no dealings with trade
except their dealings with their
tIadesmen scarcely realize the hard
work of the class who supply all
their wants. Interposed between the
artisan who works and the customer
who wears comes the class of obse-
quious tradesmen, who is always po-
lite, always deferential, always
obliging, glib of tongue, sleek of
skin, washing his hands with invisi-
BILE soap in imperceptible water. He
meets you at the shop door, escorts
you to q seat, and sends the proper
attendant to look after your wants
and then diffuses himself in a general
way over the managerial depart
ment. The proper attendant comes,
pretty, bright-eyed girl, with slim
figure, rustling black alpaca dress,
neatly clad, anxious to sell, eager to
oblige. reckless of her own trouble,
deferential to your wishes. 1t is
now about four o'clock, and you have
driven to the shop after lunch, op-
pressed with the labor of having to
choose q pattern, or match or con-
trast a different shade. You exclaim
against the bother of shopping, and
are wearIed with the fatigue of see
ing endless patterns in infinitely var
led hues. She never hinehes from
the duty of supplying you with fresh
materials of choice; she lifts down
from top shelves layers OF silks and
strata Of muslin; she crimps up the
pretty fabrics into fascinating folds;
she sets one against the other and
gives you the benefit of her poor ex-
perience in both. You have driven
from your house after lunch,
and you are quite sick of
the whole affair, and wish
(you say) that there were no such
things as fashions. She has left her
home at about seven and walked
through the raw London fog, if il be
winter, or by the budding trees, that
Charles Lamb, with the instinct of
Londoner, noted were TO be seen
from every street, lane and thorough
fare in the busy city, till she comes
to the mart where her day is to be
spent. Think of the Vicissitudes of
the seasons, and the changes they
bring for her and for you. For you
they bring skating and the brisk
walk through the keen, fresh, mid
day air, or in spring the sweet sense
of the young life in the trees, to say
nothing of Ascot week and the de-
ightful pleasures of sympathetic
partner and a good waltz, Coote &
Tinney's band, dinner parties, water
parties, the certainty of being hirted
with, the probability of being pro-
posed for, the possibility of buying
yo1r own trousseau and receiving
wedding presents from a large circle
of envious friends. At seven in the
morning she starts on her accustomed
journey with her little reticule that
holds her poor belongings. At eight
she must be at her place, or a fine is
recorded against the weekly sum of
her paltry earnings. And she stands
there from eight in the cold, gray
winter dawn, or in the glorious, sunny
summer morning, until six at night,
with mind and body devoted to the
qualification of your whims and the
measurement of your bargains. If
she makes a blunder she has to pay
for it. If she gives you too much
change, or wraps up for you too much
material, the little error is set straight
by a prompt deduction from her
weekly wages.
All those piles of materials-the
mere selection amongst which has
SO horribly bored you that you feel
you will have a headache at the
dinner-party to which you are going,
have been counted out to her yard
by yard, and once month she will
have to sit mp till near midnight com.
pairing her money receipts with the
goods in her keeping. There may
be deficiencies; you might almost
say there must be deficiencies. If
so, that polite manager, who escorts
you to the door, and hopes that all
your wishes have been gratifed, will
be inexorable, and the stern laws of
arithmetic viii admit no exception in
her favor. Your carriage has brought
you to the place at about four in the
afteraoon, and now for nearly half
an hour you have been sitting at the
COuAteE AOOkluS al bne SOOds. Lou
have been sitting thirty minutes and
complain of the bad air, Of the hot
shop, of the hustle, the noise and the
want of ventilation. You knew you
would have headache; you always
have a headache on an afternoon
when you go out shopping. She has
been Notwithstanding, not sit
ting-for seven hours, and during
that time she has scarcely changed
the air, except for a hurried meal,
taken in still greater crowd and
in still closer atmosphere. And
she will be standing for four hours
more, while your carriage rolls you,
wearied and 6Iasee, among crowd of
other carriages, all bearing upon
patent springs their wearied owners.
At about 8 O'Clock, when you are
listening to the early attempts of
your dinner partner TO interest you
in the performances of the Comedfe
Francaise, she will be making her
way home through the London
streets. How pleasant it is to walk