Americus times-recorder. [volume] (Americus, Ga.) 1891-current, 1912-04-27
One Girls
Luck

II 3 funny uOW VIC never dppASCldIo
our own good luck" said the little
stenographer as she pinned tissue pa
per around her clean, stiff cuffs pre-
paratory to attacking the days work.
"Well?" The bookkeeper's tone
called for particulars. Then he asked:
What special luck has befallen your"
"Oh, it's just the glory of being able
to work." she declared. Think Of
earning ones own living! Think Of
being a business woman, free from
all the cares and tribulations Of home
life-nothing to do but earn a nice
little salary that I'm sure of getting
each week!
I'm much to be envied by my sis
tiers in society, the poor butterflies
who are forced to stay up late night
after night, while I'm renewing my
beauty-such as it is-in sleep. The
worn, ennuied, ambitionless girls
who drag out wretched existence
trying to have good time-how l
pity them! The"
Here, here!" exclaimed the book
keeper, excitedly. Stop before you're
all run down. You're overworking
yourself, child. I'm afraid you're 60
ing to be ILL.,"
The little stenographer smiled.
"And he thought l meant it," she ex.
claimed, under her breath.
mo, but listen to mel one insist
ed, aloud. Think of it! Here l get
up at six o'clock mornings, we'll rested
after good, long sleep, having gone
to bed at ten-no social engagements
having kept me up-and / dress in five
or ten minutes. having things all my
own way, being bothered by no maid,
and knowing exactly where my things
are, having put them in certain places
myself the night before. | know ex-
actly what to wear, so | don't have
to worry for an hour to decide which
| dress will be most becoming. | just
put on my working dress on work
days and my Sunday dress on Sun
| days, and that's all there is to it. Why,
it's beautifully simple Think of the
| JOY of having no worry on that score !;
then think of the trials of society
! bellies.
Then, too, l know exactly where
I'm going every day and just what I'm
going to do | don't have to worry
and fret over whether I'm insulting
or pleasing by accepting or rejecting
invitations. / don't have to attend
long receptions and meet illustrious
| folk and feel alarm lest | won't be
smart enough to talk with them.
just calmly take nice, convenient
street car to my daily work. After
get there I find my day all arranged
for by the firm-no worry whatever
on my part. Shouldn't appreciate all
that?
Il never have to face emergencies
being never called suddenly to some
important social affair in New York OF
San Francisco or to Europe. Think OF
the poor girls, no older than l, who
suddenly face the dire necessity of
getting twenty or thirty new frocks
and the sundries to attend them
Think of having to let modistes fit you
to dress after dress, and having to sui
! fer in silence, so that the fit of each
may be perfect! For, being in the
| public eye, the society girl can't stick
| q pin in anywhere to hide a wrinkle
and then stand so that side of her
won't be noticed. She must be abso
lutely perfect all over.
Think of her troubles, and then
think of me! l can devote any noon
hour to shopping merely by going
without lunch. l can pick up bargains
at any sale. Then in not more than
two or three weeks, by working eve
nings and Saturday afternoons, | can
have new dress made exactly as
want it. / don't have to take just
what some dressmaker tells me
must have. I can have low wasted
! dress if l want it-and that kind is
easier to make when every one is
wearing high waists-and on one can
stop me.
Think, too, of the poor society
girls having to take along chaperon
wherever she goes! Why, | can
work nights until ten or eleven any
|
take my five-mile trip home alone, and
| no one says a word. | have such per.
| feet freedom! | can go to a theater
with just another girl, If I want to,
! and, sitting high up, no opera glass
es are turned on me to note with
whom I'm sitting. From my comfort
able chair | can see the poor rich
girl, i'll tight clothes and a stiff, I'M
| comfortable position-for she can't
| SLOUGH down and be comfortable-try-
| ing to look unconscious of the opera
| glasses turned on her. l can enjoy the
play, but she must be constantly think.
| ing of herself
Say, honestly" declared the little
stenographer, looking half seriously
at the bookkeeper for an instant, do
you know, after all, / don't know but
that I'm half right in what l say.
didn't mean it at all when | said 1t,
but I've just about convinced myself
that It's a pretty good thing to be me.
Il don't know that | could ever live
up to the requirements of a society
bud" she confessed, land it's sort of
comforting to know that l can be nat.
ural once in while and tell my trou-
bles to friend who likes me, not my
money"
Then she turned to her typewriter.