Hagar 48

Hagar 48

Molly could tell, too, something of the personality of the women

eminent in the movement. "The really eminent to-day are not always

those whose names the reporters catch, and _vice versa_. And while the

papers talk of 'leaders,' I do not think that, in the man's sense, they

are leaders at all. We do not hurrah for any woman as the men do for

Mr. Roosevelt or Mr. Bryan. The movement goes without high priests and

autocrats and personifications. We haven't, I suppose, the Big Chief

tradition. Perhaps woman's individualism has a value after all. It's

like religion when it really is personal; your idea of good remains

your idea of good; it doesn't take on a human form. Or perhaps we're

merely tired of crooking the knee. I don't know. The fact remains."

 

They jogged along by country roads and orchards. "It's the most

worth-_while_ thing!" said Molly. "Nobody can explain it, but every one

who takes hold of it _deep_ feels it. I heard a woman say the other

day that it was like going out of a close room into ozone and wind and

the blue lift of the sky. She said she felt as though she had wings!

Discouragements? Cartloads of them! But somehow they don't matter. Nor

do mistakes. Of course we make them--but the next time we do better."

 

The witching autumn week with the Josslyns over, Hagar went back to

town, and, as she had promised, to the Settlement for three days.

 

The Settlement! The first day she had seen it came back clearly; the

harsh, biting day and the search for Thomasine, and Omega Street, and

then how wonderful the old house had seemed to her, going over it with

Elizabeth. It was shrunken now, of course, in size and marvel, but it

was still a grave and pleasant place of fine uses. She had visited it

before during this month, and she had marked certain changes. A few of

the people in residence years before were here yet, others were gone,

others of later years had come in. But it was not only people; other

changes appeared. She found exhibited a deep skepticism of certain

Danaïdes' labours still favoured or tolerated so many years ago. The

policies of the place were bolder and larger; every one was at once

more radical and more serene.

 

Marie Caton met her. "Elizabeth has a committee meeting, and then she

speaks to-night at Cooper Union: _Women in the Sweated Trades_. I

haven't had you to myself hardly ever! Now I'm going to."

 

"Can't I go to Cooper Union to-night?"

 

"Oh, yes! I'm going, too. It's an important meeting. But I've got you

for a whole two hours, and nowadays that's a long and restful sojourn

together! Get your things off and we'll take possession of Elizabeth's

sitting-room."

 

In Elizabeth's room, with her books, with the Psyche and the Botticelli

Judith and the Mona Lisa and the drawing of the Sphinx, they talked of

twenty things, finally of the Settlement's specific activities, old

ones carried on, new ones embarked in; then, "But more and more you get

drawn--or I get drawn--into the ocean of China Awake."

 

"China Awake?"

 

"Women Awake. It's an ocean all right, with an ocean's possibilities."

 

"I don't think it's women only who are waking, Marie. Women and men,

all of us--"

 

"I agree," said Marie. "But it wasn't just natural sleepy-headedness

with women. They've been drugged--given knock-out drops, so to speak.

They have a long way to wake up."

 

Hagar mused, her eyes upon the drawing. "Yes, a good, long way....

There must have been a lot of pristine strength."

 

"Well, it's coming out. All kinds of things are coming out with an

accent on qualities they didn't think she had."

 

"Yes. The world _is_ rather in the position of the hen with the

duckling--"

 

"The kind of thing we read and hear at this place emphasizes, of

course, the economic and sociological side. It's to be the Century of

Fair Distribution, of Social Organization, of Humanism--_ergo_, Woman

Also. Which, of course, is all right, but I'd put an infinite plus to

that."

 

"And Elizabeth?"

 

"Oh, Elizabeth is a saint! What she thinks of is the sweated woman

and the little children, and the girl who goes under--most often is

pushed under. It's what we see down here; it's the starved bodies and

minds, the slow dying of fatigue, the monstrous wrong of the Things

Withheld that's moving her. Of course, we all think of that. How can

any thinking woman not think of that? She wants the vote to use as a

lever, and so do I, and so do you.... But behind all that, in the place

where I myself live," said Marie, with sudden passion, "I am fighting

to be myself! I am fighting for that same right for the other woman! I

am fighting for plain recognition of an equal humanity!"

 

There was a crowd that night at Cooper Union. Elizabeth spoke; a

grave, strong talk, followed with attention, clapped with sincerity.

After her there spoke an A. F. of L. man. "Women have got to unionize.

They've got to learn to keep step. They've got to learn that the good

of one is wrapped up in the good of all. They've got to learn to

strike. They've got to learn to strike not only for themselves, but for

the others. They've got to get off their little, just-standing-room

islands, and think in terms of continents. They've got to get an idea

of solidarity--"

 

When he had taken his seat came an announcement, made with evident

satisfaction. "We did not know it until a few minutes ago. We thought

she was still in the West--but we are so fortunate as to have with us

to-night--Rose Darragh!" Applause broke forth at once.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER XXIX

 

ROSE DARRAGH

 

 

Rose Darragh's short speech, at once caustic and passionate, ended--the

meeting ended. Hagar waited below the platform.

 

Rose Darragh, at last shaking off the crowd, came toward her. "I've

been looking at you. I seem, somehow, to know you--"

 

"And I you. And not--which is strange to me--not through another."

 

"Is your name Hagar Ashendyne?"

 

Hagar nodded. "We can't talk well here--"

 

"I'm in New York for two weeks. Denny's in Chicago and I join him

there. Let me see--where can we meet? Will you come to my flat?"

 

"Yes; and in a few days I shall have my own rooms. I want to see you

there, too, Rose Darragh."

 

"I'll come. This is my address. Will you come to-morrow at four?"

 

Hagar went. Denny had written that the two lived "handy to their work,"

and it was apparent that they did. The flat had the dignity of Spartan

simplicity. In it Rose Darragh moved with the fire of the ruby.

 

"Denny had to go about the paper. Oh, it's doing well, the paper! It's

Denny's idol. He serves in the temple day and night, and when the idol

asks it, he'll give his heart's blood.... You liked Denny very much,

didn't you?--in Nassau, three years ago?"

 

"Yes, I did." They were sitting in the plain, bare room, attractive,

for it was so clean, the late autumn sunlight streaming in at the

curtainless windows. "Yes, I did. I liked him so well that ... I had

somewhat of a fight with myself.... I am telling you that," said Hagar,

"because I want your friendship. It is over now, nor do I think it will

come again."

 

Rose Darragh gave her a swift look from heel to head. "That's strength.

I like strength.... All right! I'm not afraid."

 

They sat in silence for a moment; then, "I wish you'd tell me," said

Hagar, "about your work."

 

A very few days after this she took possession of the apartment, and

at once made it a home. There was a housewarming with Rachel and Betty

and Charley and Elizabeth and Marie and the Josslyns, and two pleasant

gentlemen, her publishers, and a fellow-writer or two whom she was

by way of knowing and liking, and an artist, and an old scholar and

philosopher whom she had known abroad and loved and honoured. And there

was Thomasine, a little worn and faded, but with happiness stealing

over her, and Mary Magazine busy with the cakes and ale. There couldn't

have been a better housewarming.

 

Thomasine--Thomasine began to bloom afresh. Factory and department

store and business school and office lay behind her--each a stage upon

a somewhat dull and dusty and ambuscade-beset road of life. Business

school and office, training for mind and fingers alike, a resulting

"place" with a fair-dealing firm--all that was Hagar's helping, a

matter of the last six or seven years. And now Hagar had come back

and had made Thomasine an offer, and Thomasine closed with it very

simply and gladly. She had from the beginning worked hard and as best

she could and had given good value for her pay; and now she was going

still to do all that, but to do it with a singing heart and her hunger

for beauty and fitness fed. The colour came back into her cheeks; she

began to take on a sprite-like beauty. She brought seriously into

conversation one day the fact that she had always been good at finding

four-leafed clovers.... Jim and Marietta were doing fairly, still over

in New Jersey. "Fairly" meant a poor house which Marietta did her best

to keep clean, and two of the children working, and the city for summer

and winter, and Jim's pay envelope neither larger nor heavier, but the

cost of living both. But Jim had his "job," and Marietta was not so

ailing as she used to be, and the two children brought in a little,

and Thomasine helped each month; so they might be said to be doing

much better than many others. There was even talk of being able one

day to get--the whole family being fond of music--one of the cheaper

phonographs.

 

Hagar and Thomasine worked through the mornings, Hagar thinking,

remembering, creating; Thomasine taking from her the labour of record;

caring also for her letters and the keeping of accounts and all small,

recurring business. And Thomasine loved to do any shopping that arose

to be done,--which was well, for Hagar hated shopping,--and loved

to keep the apartment "just so." The two lived in quiet, harmonious