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600 men. The unanimity of testimony, often unconsciously given, was one of its most remarkable features. That such women entered the factory doors at all was, generally speaking, because "he" had fallen upon evil days, low wages, loss of work or of time. Following this statement was almost invariably, another, containing the gist of the fact to which allusion has been made,—viz., "He hates so to have me do this work!"—or, "He can't bear the idea that I must help!" And, in truth, this fractious "he" spoiled many a good hand. At the very earliest glimmering for him of a brighter dawn, away went the woman, sure of his summons to share it, and as certain to respond as the wild bird of the forest is quick to fly at the first love-call of its mate. The sneer in a recent novel that a girl "only takes up a trade until some fellow comes along and tells her to lay it down," embodies a truth for which God should be thanked. As yet greed has not yet spoiled her, nor the spirit of chivalry utterly died out of him and his race. The restiveness and discontent so widely manifested by workingmen throughout the land must ultimately find their adjustment, if for no other reason than that "upon justice the foundations of the earth are laid." Elevate his condition, give him good work and adequate pay, and he will see to it that his wife or mother keeps the house and his children go to school. This is an effective, because perfectly natural, method of relief for the overstocked market where women and children compete. Pending the settlement of the labor-question for men we have one powerful source of hope for the future, which, in spite of sinister and disheartening croakers, lies in the bent of the age. That it is, in the highest sense, chivalric, surely ought to be unquestionable. In the words of Isaac Taylor, "it is constantly at work, edging away oppression, and moving on towards the perfect triumph which avowedly it meditates,—that of removing from the earth every woe which the inconsideration or the selfishness or the malignancy of man inflicts upon his fellows."

À propos of Federal aid to education and of the remark of one of the Southern Senators that there are already schools enough in his State, I am reminded of a certain little school-teacher in whom I was interested a few years ago. There are teachers and teachers, and I cannot help wondering how many may be found in that Southern State whose equipment is superior to that of Milly Graham.

Half of the winter visitors to Florida know "Aunt Eve," who has been time out of mind a sort of general factotum of one of the best-known resorts. It would never occur to the mind of the most daring hotel proprietor to discharge her. She seems to belong to the soil, by some principle of tenure known only to herself, and, whoever else may come or go, owners, managers, guests, or servants, Aunt Eve stays on, never demeaning herself to take wages, but simply claiming without discussion the right to her store-bill during the summer, and such clothing as she may need. Every year she grows more withered, her black skin more corrugated, her ear perhaps a little less responsive; but she loses neither vigor nor "faculty" nor that keenness of vision upon which she prides herself. "My daddy Injun: my sight keen,—ke-en!" is the formula with which she preliminaries her attacks upon heedless chambermaids, "no-'count gals," whom she may have caught tripping in the matter of dust or cobwebs.

It was Aunt Eve's daughter, pretty Milly Graham, whom I sent for one winter "up to Shad's," to be my little maid. Mother and daughter had not met since the bitter time, sixteen years before, when Aunt Eve, gathering together