The independent., 1902-11-06


walk along together till we reach the
foot of Randolph street, and then one
of them, the smaller of the two, starts
off down Michigan avenue alone. She
lives on State street, near Twenty
ninth, and this is where she and her
companion part company every night.
Good night, Clara" she says in a
thin, tired voice.
Good night" we all answer, and
she is off in the darkness.
The other child-Polly Smith her
name is-lives at 3137 South Morgan
street. and we are going to accom-
pany her. AS we pass along to catch
our car a street clock tells us it is
nearly $3.50. On the car we will find
out what story Polly has to tell.
How old are you, Polly?
The look of trust changes in mo-
ment to another look too old and too
unpleasant to see. In a moment she
answers "Over H." and the parrot-like
response shows how carefully she has
been schooled in this untruth. Then
she buries her head in her hands and
bursts into tears. The factory has not
yet crushed out of her the little chifd's
resort to crying. We are policemen,
she knows We are. and we have come
to arrest her and send her off to
prison.
But no, we are not policemen, and
the motherly woman with us takes the
child to her, soothes her fears and
makes her see that we are friends.
Then Polly tells her story. 1t is worth
your attention, you mothers and faith
ers with little ones of your own grow
ing up about you, who at this moment
when she speaks her short life tale
are tucked safe in bed guarded by
hearts that love them 1t is worth
your attention, gentlemen of the mer-
camille world. who draw your checks
and add to your bank accounts by
grace of her little trembling hands
It is worth your attention, you stu
dents of sociology. 1t is worth your
attention. women of clubland who
seek every week to solve problems re-
lating to the uplifting of your sex 1t
is worth your attention, you, all of
yOu, who have hearts that beat in your
breasts. consciences that speak some
times of other things than worldly
gain. hands that might be brought to
aid the weak and the helpless if they
realized the import of this twentieth
century tale.
Here is an American child, born in
America of American parents-not
disclosing problem, you see. that can
be shelvnd as "an evil of immigra-
ton" She is IA wears old" that is,
she still sticks to that statement, add
ing to it the other part of her lesson
"1've got an af'davit" In reality she
is no more than 12, and she does not
look more than 10. But she has an
aftidavit-given to her for Is cents by
notary public, and eagerly accepted
bv her employers at it's face value
though any man looking at her with
an eve apart from the earning value
to him of her little life would know
1t fo' lie in moment and shrink in
shame from the thought of making
money ont of the child before him.
She is "hirnd' by the firm of Spauld-
ing & Merrick. the biggest tobacco
manufacturers in the west. She starts
work at in the morning. and in or
der to be on time has to get out of
her cot at little after and leave her
home at 6. She works labelling cigar
packages, standing on her feet every
moment of the time, and shaving in
cessantlv TO keep up with the OUTPUT
of the women at bag-filling machines
opposite her. At noon she has half
an hour for lunch-a cold mOrsel car
,Tcd from homeland she works again
from 1890 to 6 at nieht. when the
generous rules under which she labors
give her fifteen minutes for Supper"
Then, taking up her sticky labels once
more. she keeps at it till 7:45 when
the bell tells her that her days task is
over. After washing herself, she
leaves the factory and reaches her
home al 8 o'clock.
She has been away from 1887 South
Morgan street for fifteen hours, and of
that time she has worked actually
twelve 1Ull hours
hnd her "wages?" Well, they vary
from 1925 to Sd a week, and out of
tLat has to come her daily car fare.
Remember this is not the life of an
able-bodied man Injured to hardships
fatigue and loss of sleep. 1t is the
true story of one poor little child
young enough to see paradise in the
Of IN1