"Yes, a plenty. Will you have em coarse or fine?"

"Fine, if you please."

"How many will you take?"

"Let me have three to begin with."

"Here, Michael," cried the man to the attendant who had been first
addressed by the stranger, "give this girl three fine shirts to
make." Then turning to her, he said: "They are cotton shirts, with
linen collars, bosoms, and wristbands. There must be two rows of
stitches down the bosoms, and one row upon the wristband. Collars
plain. And remember, they must be made very nice."

"Yes, sir," was the reply, made in a sad voice, as the young
creature turned from her employer and went up to the shop-attendant
to receive the three shirts.

"You've never worked for the clothing stores, I should think?"
remarked this individual, looking her in the face with a steady
gaze.

"Never," replied the applicant, in a low tone, half shrinking away,
with an instinctive aversion for the man.

"Well, it's pretty good when one can't do any better. An industrious
sewer can get along pretty well upon a pinch."