THE WORKS OF KATHLEEN NORRIS
SATURDAY'S CHILD
VOLUME IV
"Friday's child is loving and giving;
But Saturday's child must work for her living."
To C. G. N.
How shall I give you this, who long have known
Your gift of all the best of life to me?
No living word of mine could ever be
Without the stirring echo of your own.
Under your hand, as mine, this book has grown,
And you, whose faith sets all my musing free,
You, whose true vision helps my eyes to see,
Know that these pages are not mine alone.
Not mine to give, not yours, the happy days,
The happy talks, the hoping and the fears
That made this story of a happy life.
But, in dear memory of your words of praise,
And grateful memory of four busy years,
Accept her portion of it, from your wife.
Poverty
Not the place in which to look for the Great Adventure, the dingy,narrow office on the mezzanine floor of Hunter, Baxter & Hunter's greatwholesale drug establishment, in San Francisco city, at the beginningof the present century. Nothing could have seemed more monotonous, moregrimy, less interesting, to the outsider's eye at least, than life asit presented itself to the twelve women who were employed inbookkeeping there. Yet, being young, as they all were, each of thesegirls was an adventuress, in a quiet way, and each one dreamed brightdreams in the dreary place, and waited, as youth must wait, forfortune, or fame, or position, love or power, to evolve itself somehowfrom the dulness of her days, and give her the key that shouldopen--and shut--the doors of Hunter, Baxter & Hunter's offices to herforever.
And, while they waited, working over the unvaried, stupid columns ofthe company's books, they talked, confided, became friends, andexchanged shy hints of ambition. The ill-ventilated, neglected room wasa little world, and rarely, in a larger world, do women come to knoweach other as intimately as these women did.
Therefore, on a certain sober September morning, the fact that MissThornton, familiarly known as "Thorny," was out of temper, speedilybecame known to all the little force. Miss Thornton was not only theoldest clerk there, but she was the highest paid, and the longest inthe company's employ; also she was by nature a leader, and generallymanaged to impress her associates with her own mood, whatever it mightbe. Various uneasy looks were sent to-day in her direction, and byeleven o'clock even the giggling Kirk sisters, who were newcomers, wereimbued with a sense of something wrong.
Nobody quite liked to allude to the subject, or ask a direct question.Not that any one of them was particularly considerate or reserved bynature, but because Miss Thornton was known to be extremely unpleasantwhen she had any grievance against one of the younger clerks. She couldmaintain an ugly silence until goaded into speech, but, once launched,few of her juniors escaped humiliation. Ordinarily, however, MissThornton was an extremely agreeable woman, shrewd, kindly, sympathetic,and very droll in her passing comments on men and events. She was inher early thirties, handsome, and a not quite natural blonde, her mouthsophisticated, her eyes set in circles of a leaden pallor. Anassertive, masterful little woman, born and reared in decent poverty,still Thorny claimed descent from one of the first families of