The Labor enquirer., 1883-01-27
If it'll do any good Pm. glad. Ifitwon't

>questloIlS IN our c1uD every week and
they are pretty well discussed, too, I
think. Well, last week some one said
that in this fight are waging for lib
erty and bread, we ought to have the
woman with us. And that brought up
discussion and debate. And one man
whom think ought to know better, said
that woman's aid would only embarrass,
us. Then there was some applause. So
L couldn't sit still and hear that. | got
up and though l was rather nervous
because you see | had never spoken
much before the boys before, yet l felt
something must be said so l pitched in.
Those words were like bad bricks-I
couldn't somehow lay'em straight till
finally l, Thought a little and saw Baby's
face with clear, smiling eyes like vision.
in front of me and then went on with
the talk as nicely as possible. Her eyes
were kind of spirit level l thought, to
my wall of words. Baby is my wife you
know.
She was born here in San Francisco.
Her old man stuck type on one Of the
dailies till he died about six years ago
leaving Baby lass of sixteen living
with her mother in a little house on Jesse
street. Baby was just going into the
high school then but times were hard
and she bad to quit school to 90 to work.
Her mother got bit Of patronage some
how and did plain washing and Baby
was to look for work, too There wasn't
amy show in printing for her then, and
she tramped around on foot many a
weary block till finally she got seat at
machine in a shoe shop out in the
Valley. She got 81 a week there after
the first week and her mother never
made more than So. Their little house
cost them $S a month for rent and the
mother and girl struggled along for a
year by starving themselves and literally
living on bread and water. Well, then
Baby was getting s. and the old lady
about the same and things began to look
brighter till all Of a sudden the strike
came on east and hard times eliminated
and the factory said they had to reduce
wages and put on Chinese, and they did.
Then Baby was out of work and her
mother died. Baby sold the little bit Of
furniture and buried her and after that
was over she went to live at place on
Fourth street in furnished room, and
started out to look for work again.
can't and won't tell of temptations that
were put in her way, nor Of the insults
that were offered to her by ScOundrels of
the 'higher" classes. But | remember
one lawyer of this town whom | hope
sometime may feel the power of my hand
in retaliation for his infamous Words
He is rich and great and too powerful for
me to touch now, but sometime
However | mustn't wander. Finally
Baby did get some work, to tend table
IN a coffee saloon. That was where met
her.
We were fixing up a weak wall'0n
Pine street in one Of those rODber dens
they call "broker's" office and when
noontime came, Jerry McCarty, my mate.
said to me, "Say, there's place over
there where all these nobs go to LUNCH.
Pretty waiter girls. You know. Let's
take it in" So we did.
A long Saloon down one flight of steps,
in basement, nicely lighted; a score or
so of tables filled with good looking,
white handed men all we'll dressed, most
Of 'em young but some of them old and
bald headed and about a dozen gir.s fly
ing hither and thither for orders,-that
was the picture that met my eyes, as we
entered
We looked little out of place in our
work clothes and so got down to a table
way off in the corner where we could
avoid any of those insolent looks and
well-bre stares which all Of us know 50
we'll.
was looking around, wondering how
it was that all those fellows could dress
so nicely and be so educated and high
toned and all that, and yet only work a
few hours day and even then at bank
ing or law or brokerage or trading that
don't produce a single necessity of life.
l always used to think of those things
and l never could understand them.
But my thoughts were interrupted by
a clearesweet voice that asked my order