by the window watching the passing throng and conversing in whispers with one another. I wanted to be with or near them, so that I might hear what was said. After waiting for some time I decided to awake the man to the fact that I wanted work, not a rest.
“Have you no place to send me this morning?”
“No; but I advertised you in the paper,” and he handed me the Tribune of October 25 and pointed out the following notice:
“Nurse, &c.—By excellent, very neat English girl as nurse and seamstress, chambermaid and waitress, or parlor maid. Call at 69 4th ave.; no cards answered.”
I choked down a laugh as I read myself advertised in this manner, and wondered what my role would be the next time. I began to hope some one would soon call for the excellent girl, but when an aged gentleman entered I wished just as fervently that he was not after me. I was enjoying my position too much, and I fear I could not restrain my gravity if any one began to question me. Poor old gentleman! He looked around helplessly, as if he was at a loss to know what to do. The agent did not leave him long in doubt. “You want a girl, sir?”
“Yes; my wife read an advertisement in the Tribune this morning, and she sent me here to see the girl.”
“Yes, yes, excellent girl, sir, come right back here,” opening the gates and giving the gentleman a chair behind the high counter. “You come here, Sally Lees,” indicating a chair beside the visitor for me. I sat down with an inward chuckle and the agent leaned over the back of a chair. The visitor eyed me nervously, and after clearing his throat several times and making vain attempts at a beginning, he said:
“You are the girl who wants work?” And after I answered in the affirmative, he said: “Of course you know
