And what of that?
The men in stripes worked a shorter day than I at my machine.

And there was vastly more romance in being an oyster pirate or a convict than in being a machine slave.

And behind it all, behind all of me with youth abubble, whispered Romance, Adventure.
So I interviewed my Mammy Jennie, my old nurse at whose black breast I had suckled.

She was more prosperous than my folks.

She was nursing sick people at a good weekly wage.