So Sadie watched the needle assiduously, and ignored the fact that her
head ached pretty regularly, and she was generally too weary when lunch
time came to enjoy the black bread and pickles which, with a cup of
strong tea, made her noon meal. After lunch she again sat down to her
machine and watched the needles gallop over the cloth.

At the end of each year Sadie Greenbaum had produced for the good of the
community _four miles_ of tucked muslin. In return, the community had
rendered her back something less than three hundred dollars, for the
muslin underwear trade has its dull seasons, and you do not earn seven
dollars every week in the year.

Each week Sadie handed her pay envelope unopened to her mother. The
mother bought all Sadie's clothes and gave her food and shelter.
Consequently, Sadie's unceasing vigil of the needle paid for her
existence and purchased also the proud consciousness of an older brother
who would one day own a doctor's buggy and a social position.

The one joy of this girl's life, in fact all the real life she lived,
was dancing. Regularly every Saturday night Sadie and a girl friend,
Rosie by name, put on their best clothes and betook themselves to
Silver's Casino, a huge dance hall with small rooms adjoining, where
food and much drink were to be had.

There was a good floor at Silver's and a brass band to dance to. It was
great! The girls never lacked partners, and they made some very
agreeable acquaintances.

In the dressing room, between dances, all the girls exchanged