And that night they worked till half-past ten, dipping "fancy starch"-- all the frilled and airy, delicate wear of ladies.
"Me for the tropics and no clothes," Martin laughed.
"And me out of a job," Joe answered seriously.

"I don't know nothin' but laundrying." "And you know it well." "I ought to.

Began in the Contra Costa in Oakland when I was eleven, shakin' out for the mangle.

That was eighteen years ago, an' I've never done a tap of anything else.

But this job is the fiercest I ever had.
Ought to be one more man on it at least.