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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=418933" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Factory Girl</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=418933" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">She wasn't the least bit pretty, <br>And only the least bit gay; <br>And she walked with a firm elastic tread, <br>In a business-like kind of way. <br>Her dress was of coarse, brown woollen, <br>Plainly but neatly made, <br>Trimmed with some common ribbon <br>Or cheaper kind of braid; <br>And a hat with a broken feather, <br>And shawl of a modest plaid. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=418933" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Her face seemed worn and weary, <br>And traced with lines of care, <br>As her nut-brown tresses blew aside <br>In the keen December air; <br>Yet she was not old, scarce twenty, <br>And her form was full and sleek, <br>But her heavy eye, and tired step, <br>Seemed of wearisome toil to speak; <br>She worked as a common factory girl <br>For two dollars and a half a week. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=418933" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Ten hours a day of labor <br>In a close, ill-lighted room; <br>Machinery's buzz for music, <br>Waste gas for sweet perfume; <br>Hot stifling vapors in summer, <br>Chill draughts on a winter's day, <br>No pause for rest or pleasure <br>On pain of being sent away; <br>So ran her civilized serfdom -- <br>Four cents an hour the pay. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=418933" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">"A fair day's work," say the masters, <br>And "a fair day's pay," say the men; <br>There's a strike -- a rise in wages, <br>What effect to the poor girl then? <br>A harder struggle than ever <br>The honest path to keep; <br>And so sink a little lower, <br>Some humbler home to seek; <br>For living is dearer -- her wages, <br>Two dollars and a half a week. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=418933" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">A man gets thrice the money, <br>But then "a man's a man, <br>"And a woman surely can't expect <br>"To earn as much as he can." <br>Of his hire the laborer's worthy, <br>Be that laborer who it may; <br>If a woman can do a man's work <br>She should have a man's full pay, <br>Not to be left to starve -- or sin -- <br>On forty cents a day. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=418933" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Two dollars and a half to live on, <br>Or starve on, if you will; <br>Two dollars and a half to dress on, <br>And a hungry mouth to fill; <br>Two dollars and a half to lodge on <br>In some wretched hole or den, <br>Where crowds are huddled together, <br>Girls, and women, and men; <br>If she sins to escape her bondage <br>Is there room for wonder then.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=John+Arthur+Phillips">John Arthur Phillips</a></strong></div>