Mary Minds Her Business Part 26

"But they didn't," she said. "The men quit."

"When women start to take men's jobs away from them," he repeated, "it's time for the men to a.s.sert themselves."

"We know that you mean well, Miss Spencer," said another, "but you are starting something here that's bad. You're starting something that will take men's work away from them--something that will make more workers than there are jobs."

"It was the war that started it," she pleaded, "not I. Now let me ask you something. There is so much work that has to be done in the world every day; isn't there?"

"Yes, I guess that's right."

"Well, don't you see? The more people there are to do that work, the easier it will be for everybody."

But no, they couldn't see that. So Mary had to ring for Joe to bring in the old employment cards again, and that night and all day Sunday, Mrs.

Ridge's company spread the news that four hundred more women were wanted at Spencer & Son's--"and you ought to see the place they've got for looking after children," was invariably added to the mothers of tots, "free milk, free nurses, free doctoring, free toys, rompers, little chairs and tables, animals, sand piles, swings, little pails and shovels--you never saw anything like it in your life--!"

If the tots in question heard this, and were old enough to understand, their eyes stood out like little painted saucers, and mutely then or loudly they pleaded Mary's cause.

CHAPTER XXV

It sometimes seems to me that the old saying, "History repeats itself,"

is one of the truest ever written. At least history repeated itself in the case of the grinders.

Before the week was over, the places left vacant by the men had been filled by women, and the nursery and kindergarten had proved to be unqualified successes.

Many of the details I will reserve till later, including the growth of the canteen, the vanishing mirror, an improvement in overalls, to say nothing of daffodils and daisies and Mrs. Kelly's drum. And though some of these things may sound peculiar at first, you will soon see that they were all repet.i.tions of history. They followed closely after things that had already been done by other women in other places, and were only adopted by Mary first because they added human touches to a rather serious business, and second because they had proved their worth elsewhere.

Before going into these affairs, however, I must tell you about the reporters.

The day the grinders went on strike, a local correspondent sent a story to his New York paper. It wasn't a long story, but the editor saw possibilities in it. He gave it a heading, "Good-bye, Man, Says She.

Woman Owner of Big Machine Shop Replaces Men With Women." He also sent a special writer and an artist to New Bethel to get a story for the Sunday edition.

Other editors saw the value of that "Good-bye, Man" idea and they also sent reporters to the scene. They came; they saw; they interviewed; and almost before Mary knew what was happening, New Bethel and Spencer & Son were on their way to fame.

Some of the stories were written from a serious point of view, others in a lighter vein, but all of them seemed to reflect the opinion that a rather tremendous question was threatening--a question that was bound to come up for settlement sooner or later, but which hadn't been expected so soon.

"Is Woman Really Man's Equal?" That was the gist of the problem. Was her equality theoretical--or real? Now that she had the ballot and could no longer be legislated against, could she hold her own industrially on equal terms with man? Or, putting it as briefly as possible, "Could she make good?"

Some of these articles worried Mary at first, and some made her smile, and after reading others she wanted to run away and hide. Judge Cutler made a collection of them, and whenever he came to a good one, he showed it to Mary.

"I wish they would leave us alone," she said one day.

"I don't," said the judge seriously. "I'm glad they have turned the spotlight on."

"Why?"

"Because with so much publicity, there's very little chance of rough work. Of course the men here at home wouldn't do anything against their own women folks, but quite a few outsiders are coming in, and if they could work in the dark, they might start a whisper, 'Anything to win!'"

Mary thought that over, and somehow the sun didn't shine so brightly for the next few minutes. Ma'm Maynard's old saying arose to her mind:

"I tell you, Miss Mary, it has halways been so and it halways will: Everything that lives has its own natural enemy--and a woman's natural enemy: eet is man!"

"No, sir, I don't believe it!" Mary told herself. "And I never shall believe it, either!"

The next afternoon Judge Cutler brought her an editorial ent.i.tled, "We Shall See."

"The women of New Bethel (it read) are trying an experiment which, carried to its logical conclusion, may change industrial history.

"Perhaps industrial history needs a change. It has many dark pages where none but man has written.

"If woman is the equal of man, industrially speaking, she is bound to find her natural level. If she is not the equal of man, the New Bethel experiment will help to mark her limitations.

"Whatever the outcome, the question needs an answer and those who claim that she is unfitted for this new field should be the most willing to let her prove it.

"By granting them the suffrage, we have given our women equal rights.

Unless for demonstrated incapacity, upon what grounds shall we now deny them equal opportunities?

"The New Bethel experiment should be worked out without hard feeling or rancour on either side.

"Can a woman do a man's work?

"Let us watch and we shall see."

Mary read it twice.

"I like that," she said. "I wish everybody in town could see that."

"Just what I thought," said the judge. "What do you say if we have it printed in big type, and pasted on the bill-boards?"

They had it done.

The day after the bills were posted, Archey went around to see how they were being received.

"It was a good idea," he told Mary the next morning, but she noticed that he looked troubled and absent-minded, as though his thoughts weren't in his words.

"What's the matter, Archey?" she quietly asked.

"Oh, I don't know," he said, and with the least possible touch of irritation he added, "Sometimes I think it's because I don't like him.

Everything that counts against him sticks--and I may have been mistaken anyway--"

"It's something about Burdon," thought Mary, and in the same quiet voice as before she said,

"What is it, Archey?"

"Well," he said, hesitating, "I went out after dinner last night--to see if they were reading the bill-boards. I thought I'd walk down Jay Street--that's where the strikers have their headquarters. I was walking along when all at once I thought I saw Burdon's old car turning a corner ahead of me.

"It stopped in front of Repetti's pool-room. Two men came out and got in.