After lunch she again sat down to her machine and watched the needles gallop over the cloth.
At the end of each year Sadie Greenbaum had produced for the good of the community _four miles_ of tucked muslin.

In return, the community had rendered her back something less than three hundred dollars, for the muslin underwear trade has its dull seasons, and you do not earn seven dollars every week in the year.
Each week Sadie handed her pay envelope unopened to her mother.

The mother bought all Sadie's clothes and gave her food and shelter.
Consequently, Sadie's unceasing vigil of the needle paid for her existence and purchased also the proud consciousness of an older brother who would one day own a doctor's buggy and a social position.
The one joy of this girl's life, in fact all the real life she lived, was dancing.

Regularly every Saturday night Sadie and a girl friend, Rosie by name, put on their best clothes and betook themselves to Silver's Casino, a huge dance hall with small rooms adjoining, where food and much drink were to be had.
There was a good floor at Silver's and a brass band to dance to.

It was great! The girls never lacked partners, and they made some very agreeable acquaintances.
In the dressing room, between dances, all the girls exchanged conversation, views on fashions, confidences about the young men and other gossip.