Nineteenth Century Woman Tailor

This morning, Laura somehow heard that Eloise was doing some sewing and mending.

She seemed envious but had no way to stop it, so she sent Eloise to clean the fifth and sixth floors and wash the ash bins in the warehouse.

When Mrs. Morrison came for her routine inspection and praised the thorough cleaning, Laura stepped forward to take credit.

However, Eloise knew better and kept her thoughts to herself.

With the economy in New York tightening, jobs outside were hard to come by, but Eloise had her skills and wasn’t afraid. She planned to resign sooner or later anyway.

Since she didn’t get along with her coworkers, she didn’t bother to argue. After all, they might never see each other again in the future.

Worrying over a job that paid three dollars a week wasn’t worth it.

Eloise planned to quit once her boutique venture stabilized in a couple of weeks.

If she could earn five or six dollars a week, it would already be better than that miserable job.

For lunch, she ate leftovers. After a couple of hours, Eloise finished making a corset and took a break. She pulled out a money pouch from under her bed, grabbed a porcelain cup, and headed out to the market.

Her goals were twofold: to exchange the unwanted item for cash and to buy some gifts for her family and Amy.

They didn’t need to be expensive—just some food or practical household items would do.

After organizing everything, Eloise locked the door and trudged through the snow to the nearest second-hand shop.

The shop wasn’t large, but it sold a wide variety of items—pots, pans, bowls, and plates—available for rent or purchase.

The two bunk beds from the school that her family used had been recycled from this shop, repainted, and rented out for just a few cents a month or a dollar a year.

Many poor workers who had just arrived in New York frequented such shops, renting bedding to get through their first night.

The female clerk there was sharp and asked Eloise where she got the items and if they were stolen.

It was routine questioning, and knowing that Eloise’s family worked at a hotel, she accepted the explanation that the cup was a holiday gift from a guest. Eloise quickly received one dollar and ninety cents.

“This cup is a Tiffany porcelain. Are you really willing to pawn it instead of keeping it for yourself?”

The clerk, seeing Eloise take the money without a hint of regret, teased her.

Eloise smiled and brushed it off before leaving the shop.

Losing such a fine item did sting, but now wasn’t the time for indulgence.

Walking a bit further down the street to the left, she ran into a crowd of female workers pouring out of nearby textile factories.

Eloise avoided the swarm of people like crows. The area had many factories, so it was also home to many poor residents. The evening market sprawled along both sides of the street.

Stalls with tarpaulin roofs lined the road, displaying a dazzling array of goods.

Eloise bought a small engraved iron comb, a tin box of white lanolin cream, a palm-sized jar of malt sugar in a clay pot, and a glossy black leather-bound diary.

Amy had given her fruit-flavored soft candies dusted with sugar. Finding something similar at the market, Eloise asked the price, intending to return the favor with something of equivalent value.

Since they were coworkers, she didn’t want Amy to feel shortchanged, so she bought a pack of dried meat strips.

The money from selling the cup was almost spent, but with what little remained, Eloise bought herself a few spools of colored thread.

Seeing that it was about time, she headed back home. First, she picked up Bella and gave her the jar of malt sugar as a Christmas gift.

As Bella squealed with delight, Eloise held the jar up and said, “You can have some, but not too much each day, or your teeth will rot. Understand?”

“I understand! You’re the best! Let me have some…” Bella clung to Eloise’s slender waist, refusing to let go. In the end, she got her malt sugar, scooping it into her mouth with a wooden spoon, savoring the sweetness.

Not long after, her aunt and Louise returned home and received their gifts.

They, too, had brought back two water cups, undoubtedly intending to sell them for cash.

Terry got the lanolin cream, and Louise got the comb. Both were delighted but puzzled. “We usually exchange gifts on Christmas Day. Why are you so early this year? We haven’t even started preparing yet.”

“Well, I have the money now. What’s wrong with giving gifts early?” Eloise replied defensively, unaware of the original owner’s habits in this regard.

Louise chuckled. “No complaints here! What do you want for a gift this year?”

“Since you asked, I’d like a couple of spools of colored thread. I go through them quickly…”

As they chatted, Terry opened the small metal box.

She often washed things with hot water, leaving her hands cracked. The cream was practical for her, and she could sense that Eloise had changed recently.

Not only was she more thoughtful in her interactions, but she also managed her life more methodically and wasn’t as reserved as before.

Entrusting her with finding a new place to live, Terry felt reassured.

At dinner time, Eloise took out her wages, intending to contribute to the household expenses.

Terry waved her off. “We paid a week’s deposit when we rented this place. Keep this week’s wages for yourselves.”

Only then did Eloise learn about this arrangement, but she still slipped Terry a dollar for coal money, and Louise did the same.

The next day, a nearby clock tower chimed at seven.

The sunlight outside looked promising, hinting at a clear day.

But when Eloise got up to work, the sky was still pitch black.

Seeing her aunt and the others still asleep, she hung clothes by the bed to block the light and worked by the dim glow of a kerosene lamp.

When the sun rose and a blue hue gradually filled the dark window, she turned off the lamp.

She got out of bed, slipped on her shoes, and went to cook breakfast.

By the time everyone else woke up, Eloise had already been busy for hours. She had accomplished a lot, even cooking a large pot of oatmeal on the stove and boiling a kettle of water for washing, which was now lukewarm on the floor.

The pot bubbled vigorously, filling the air with the sweet aroma of carbohydrates.

Louise and Terry exchanged glances upon waking, marveling at how Eloise managed to rise so early on such cold nights.

Her willpower was astonishing—less like a person and more like the Statue of Liberty standing by the Hudson River, erected just a few years prior.

By eight o’clock, Eloise had finished her oatmeal and started working on another corset. She also mended some items for the landlady, planning to deliver them at noon.

The more she worked, the more skilled she became, sewing two pieces of fabric in just an hour.

Immensely focused, she worked until noon, delivering the items to the landlady and receiving two freshly baked scones sprinkled with pistachio crumbs in return.

At Mrs. Morrison’s house, there was a young cook who had come all the way from France by ship. She was skilled in making biscuits, bread, and desserts, but Eloise had never crossed paths with her.

This would have to suffice as Eloise’s lunch, paired with the thin, leftover oatmeal porridge. She ate it hastily.

The afternoon was another busy one, but surprisingly, her productivity soared. She managed to finish making two corsets ahead of schedule. With just half a day more to add the final decorative details, she estimated they would be ready to sell the day after tomorrow.

In high spirits, Eloise reluctantly took two coins from her money pouch, planning to buy a sausage to satisfy her craving.