HOW MARY GOT AN OUTING by Susan Teall Perry

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Mountain View, California · Oct 11, 1905

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 31, No. 41.

HOW MARY GOT AN OUTING

By Susan Teall Perry

[Susan Teall Perry, in New York Evangelist.]

"You ought to have an outing, Mary," said one of the members of the society organized to lighten the cares and labors of the working-girls.

The pale-faced young girl, whose appearance plainly showed that physically and mentally she had been overworked, looked up with a smile. "O, if I only could have an outing, miss!" she said.

"Yes, Mary, you are sadly in need of one; we will try to arrange to get you off next week."

Mary went home with a lighter heart, and when she slept she dreamed of green fields, of daisies, and of singing birds. But the next day when she spoke to her employer of the happiness in store for her, a frown came on his face, and he said: "If you go away, you must get some one in your place, and if your substitute does the work well, and wants the situation, I shall not turn her off when you come back. You understand?"

Yes, Mary did understand, and she sat down to her machine and stitched up the long seams of the heavy pantaloons with the weight of a terrible disappointment lying on her heart. What would the loved ones do at home if her work were taken from her? How would the mother get on, and Tommy, the crippled brother who was always so grateful for the evening's offering of fruit, which she had been enabled to bring him during the heated summer weeks? Mary was well used to giving up anticipated pleasures, and she did not tug at the weight long. The outing was an impossibility, and she dismissed the thought of it entirely from her mind. The light of a loving sacrifice, for the sake of those nearest and dearest to her, came upon her face—a beautiful light, but the mercenary employer who walked by her machine an hour later did not see it. He only saw the stitches his employee was putting in the garments. They passed his closest scrutiny. Mary's work always did.

That evening the good young lady who had her interest at heart came to see Mary. "It is all arranged for you," she said. "You are to go next Monday morning, Mary, with the party who are to spend a fortnight at the cottage."

Then Mary told the young lady that it was impossible for her to go, and gave her reasons.

"I will see your employer myself. You must go, Mary. You need the change more than any of the girls. Keep up good courage, dear, I am sure I can make arrangements for you," her benefactor said.

The employer was quite polite to this young lady when she called, altho he would not promise to give Mary her place when she returned.

"But if I get a substitute for Mary who will do her work and be willing to give her the situation again, what then?"

Of course under that consideration Mary could go, but it was very plain to be seen that the clothes dealer would not give her a pleasant "good-by," and say cheery words about her prospective outing.

Early Monday morning Mary took the train with a large party of other working-girls, as happy as herself, and was soon outside of the city's limits, outside of the dust and noise, into the quiet and grass-covered country, which seemed fresh from God's hand.

Meantime her good friend presented herself at the clothing manufactory, and was taken to Mary's machine, and the usual number of garments piled on the chair. The man in charge looked at her quite critically, and said, "You do not look as if you had been used to this kind of work. I'm afraid you won't be able to do it."

But the new substitute did do it, and to the employer's satisfaction, and every day during that fortnight she was in her place at seven o'clock in the morning, and worked the required number of hours. The heat was extreme during that period, but she had grace and strength given her to persevere and finish the work she had taken upon herself to do.

The new-comer always had a smile and helpful word for the girls who worked with her, but they soon said to each other, "She is different from us; she is not one of us;" but they added oftentimes the words, "She is like a sunbeam here; she does us good; I wish I was like her."

The fortnight outing was over, and Mary came home with a brightness in her eye and a pink in her cheeks never seen there before. When her substitute left her work at the end of her stay, the employer said: "You have done your work well. I am sure you can easily get a place somewhere when you want one." She passed out, with a "thank you" and a "good-evening." Imagine that man's chagrin and surprise to hear on the following Monday that Mary's substitute was the daughter of one of the wealthiest and most prominent men in the city. She had been educated in the most accomplished manner, had been abroad twice, and traveled all over her own country.

This incident will be all the more appreciated when it is known to our readers that every word of it is literally true, and took place in a Western city during the extreme heat of the early part of July.