“In general, the older hotels, in spite of their more insanitary dressing-rooms and less well-guarded machines, were more considerate of their workers.  But in one of the newer, more expensive hotels a sick girl is attended by the hotel physician, and is provided with soup, milk, etc.  Her pay is not docked.  She is treated with genuine sympathy.  Here I once overheard a woman telling the boss that she was ill and asking permission to go to the dormitory.  He gave the permission without question.  None of the women ever abused his kindness.  The women here were in fairly good shape, except, it must be admitted, for the extreme fatigue which seems to sweep over almost all the laundry women, and which arises from their hours of standing.

“I used to notice one girl who was as light on her feet as a kitten, and who seemed tireless; but every noon, as soon as she had finished her lunch, she would wrap herself up in a blanket and lie motionless for the whole period.  One evening a woman stumbled into a dormitory, sat down on a trunk, pulled off her shoes and stockings, and, as she rubbed her swollen foot, cursed long and methodically all her circumstances—­cursed the other workers who had held back work by their slowness; cursed the manager, who had asked of her extra work; cursed the dormitory and the laundry; cursed the whole world.  At the first word of sympathy I offered her, she paused, and said with quiet truth, ’Dear heart, we’re all tired.’

“Here are my notes for one day:—­

When I went into the dormitory a little before half past seven, several of the girls were dragging themselves out of bed to dress.  These went to work without breakfast, needing an extra half hour of rest more than they craved food.

Two stayed in bed.  One had an ulcerated tooth extracted the night before.  I asked the other if she were sick.  She groaned.  “I’ll get up just as soon as the pains are gone out of my stomach.”  Within an hour she was in the laundry, carrying armfuls of men’s working-suits to the drying-closet.  She worked until half past eight that night.

     All the morning I stood beside Old Sallie, who kept asking,
     “What time is it now, dear?” because she could not see the
     clock.

     At noon, as we sat or lay on the beds in the dormitory, one of
     the girls said, “My God!  I wish I could stay in bed this
     afternoon.”

     In the afternoon I stood beside Theresa, who kept repeating: 
     “It is so long to work until half past five!  If I could only go
     to bed at half past five!”