The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1900-07-31
The Crime Of he Celiu|y :
CHAPTER III.

REBEccA PoLAsKI's STORY.
Mr.. Mitchell CROPPED his way gingerly
doWn into the increasing gloom of the
stairway. At the third landing he
passed some one whose sex he vaguely
guessed by the fumes of whisky which
assalled his nostrils. At length he
reached the bottom and stood in the
lower hallway looking toward the light
at the street door, which made the mar
row passage strikingly resemble tun-
mel. AT the first door to the left he
stopped and knocked, receiving, as
upon his first effort, no response.
therefore he passed on and raped
upon the door nearest the street, and
once more the bearded head of the pro-
prletor protruded just far enough to
inquire what was wanted, while the
Whlrrlng of the sewing machines be-
hind him made his squeaky voice
scarcely audible
Il wish to speak with Rebecca Po-
laski," said Mr.. Mitchell
She's busy" was the curt reply,
and the man tried to close the door,
but was forestalled by Mr.. Mitchell,
who thrust his foot between, remark.
ing firmly:
But tell you must see her"
ooh, veil, dot makes diff'rence!"
He came out into the hall and closed
the door behind him. "Vhy is dot you
must see Repecca? What do you want
vid her?"
yicyN tn II To 1,or s,J,N
ter of Importance l will not detain her
more than ten minutes"
''Ten minutes! Holy Abraham! How
do you suppose she can fool away so
much time? She's got her Twin to
make, my friendt. She couldn't afford
to stop work for ten minutes We are
not millionaires down here"
GLOW much could she earn in ten
minutes?" asked Mr.. Mitchell
This disconnected the old Jew, and he
hesitated before replying, but present
". with cunning leer and rubbing
his hands together after the manner of
his tribe, he drawled out:
LAS to dot, my friendt dots her piz-
ness. ind it's not my pizness to gift
away oder peoples pizness. But she
could make enough to puy a loaf of
pread, my tear, und loaf of pread is
good deal in desc hard times"
"a loaf of bread, eh? Let me see,"
said Mr.. Mitchell. making a quick cal
culation. "a loaf of bread is 5 cents,
and 8 cents for ten minutes is 80 cents
an hour or about So day. Is that
what she earns?'
what man you are at figgers"
said the Jew slyly. "You ought to be
pawnbroker. But you're wrong. my
tear. l didn't say a fife cent loaf She
might puy dree cent loaf. amt it?"
Every we'll. Then she does not earn
more than 80 cents an hour Tell her
to come out and talk to me. and will
pay her so cents for her lost hour"
E Mr. Mitchell thought that a rest Of
even an hour might be joyfully accept
able to the poor sweatshop slave and
would be cheaply purchased. But the
greedy ears of the Jew were doubly at
tentive now that money was offered
With deprecating gesture of his most
expressive hands. he whined:
impossible. my tear An hour,
WItO1c lOuI. lOI ~ CculS. lou uIlueT-
value de worth of de girls time Fifty
cents for whole hour! Impossible,
impossible!'
'But you have just admitted that her
time is not worth as much as 80 cents
an hour
You're no pizness man, my friendt.
You're too rich to understand de leetle
details of trade Dhirtv cents an hour
might be de wholesale price of Re.
pecca's time. but for one hour-dots
retail. don't you see?"
mo, don't see. Explain yourself"
"Vid pleasure. l hires de girl by de
month so | get her time cheaper dan
you can get it if you only want one
hour. It's very simple"
He smiled blandly. as though max
ing the most ordinary statement but