"Now I'll tell you what I think'll be best," said Mrs. Wiggs, who
enjoyed untangling snarls. "Asia kin take Mary up to the fact'ry with
her to-morrow, an' see if she kin git her a job. I 'spect she kin,
'cause she stands right in with the lady boss. Miss Hazy, me an' you
kin keep a' eye on the baby between us. If Mary gits a place she kin
pay you so much a week, an' that'll help us all out, 'cause then we
won't have to send in so many outside victuals. If she could make
three dollars an' Chris three, you all could git along right peart."

Lovey Mary stayed in the house most of the day. She was almost afraid
to look out of the little window, for fear she should see Miss Bell or
Kate Rider coming. She sat in the only chair that had a bottom and
diligently worked buttonholes for Miss Hazy.

"Looks like there ain't never no time to clean up," said Miss Hazy,
apologetically, as she shoved Chris's Sunday clothes and a can of
coal-oil behind the door.

Lovey Mary looked about her and sighed deeply. The room was brimful
and spilling over: trash, tin cans, and bottles overflowed the window-
sills; a crippled rocking-chair, with a faded quilt over it, stood
before the stove, in the open oven of which Chris's shoe was drying;
an old sewing-machine stood in the middle of the floor, with Miss
Hazy's sewing on one end of it and the uncleared dinner-dishes on the
other.

Mary could not see under the bed, but she knew from the day's
experience that it was used as a combination store-room and wardrobe.
She thought of the home with its bare, clean rooms and its spotless
floors. She rose abruptly and went out to the rear of the house, where