Marion Marlowe's Christmas Eve, or, The Treachery of a Factory Inspector — page 10: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

8 “What impresses you the most?” asked the ‘man, very earnestly. “What have you seen to-day that seems to you to be the greatest evil ?” Miss French glanced at her sharply, and her cheeks flushed a little. She was decided- ly uneasy, but Marion did not falter in her answer. “The child labor,” she said, quickly. ‘Oh, Mr. Landale, that is pitiful! Little children who should be in the nursery or in school are working like slaves in those human _ bee- hives!” “And yet the law is trying to do what it can,’ was the answer, “although, in my opin- ion, it has begun at the wrong end of the problem. However, these are the cases we are anxious to learn of first, although, in many instances, it seems a crime to take them off, for the poor mites have neither mothers nor fathers, in the true sense of the words— they are the offspring of brutes, who will not support them!’’ “Then why does not the law attend to “Why does it permit a man or woman to spend one day of that?” cried Marion, hotly. idleness when there are such hordes of chil- dren to be supported ?” The man shrugged his shoulders and a sneer crossed his face. “Some one should force these parents to support their own children,’ continued Marion, impetuously, ‘‘and send them to school and keep them clean and_ healthy. Oh, I wish I were powerful enough to make them do it!” “The one who is powerful enough does not seem to care,” broke in Miss French, quickly. “And if their Creator does not bother about the little wretches, why in the world should we distress ourselves about their condition ?” “Ley mav be the tests for our humanity,” esid Marion. thoughtfully. “It seems to me there must be some reason for it all, but | confess I do not know what It 1s. te MY QUEEN. “No, nor any of us,” cried Miss French; “and we are fools to bother about it! I just go ahead and obey my orders, but if I were to take the burdens of , misery upon my shoulders, I wouldn't last a week in my pres- ent business.” “That is right,” said Mr. Landale. “Pity and compassion are all right enough, but one would soon be consumed by his own feel- ings if he gave way to these emotions.” “No doubt you are right,’ said Marion, sadly, “but my blood has just been boiling all day! I am afraid I shall never be calm Why, just think,” she went on, with her gray eyes shin- in the midst of such conditions. ing; ‘there are children in those shops who hardly know a mother’s love! There are young women who are hungry and starving for affection, and for those other pleasures so necessary to the youthful nature!’ What can these poor creatures know of the blessedness Of the grandeur of ambition, Why, they seem like stunted creatures, animals in of existence? or the sweet holiness of marriage? the likeness of men and women! No, I shall never be able to look at them and hide my emotions! I cannot even think of them with- out a shudder of horror !” “Then you had better give up before you grow gray-headed,” said Miss French, who had listened calmly to her outburst. are altogether too sentimental to engage in this business!” “You are mistaken,” said Marion, more calmly. tures will not prevent my being of assistance to though T cannot annihilate them.” “Still, the effect will be dangerous! had better give it up in time,” repeated Miss them. I can control my feelings, even You French, sneeringly. “Not until I am obliged to!” said the voung girl, firmly. “T have seen some evils to-day that must be corrected, and I shall “You “My sympathy for the poor crea- - Eomicbooks,. co J —_