She had never been an expert.

Self-taught, her work had been laboured and slow, and the lapse of months had thrown her out.
"However! Something must be done!" And the pounding went on for days and days, hour after hour; and when her fingers, wrists and arms felt like "two long tooth-aches," she exclaimed impatiently: "Oh, for goodness sake stop being so soft! You're a new woman, Ethel Knight, and you're going to earn your living!" At times, however, stopping to rest and carefully scan her labour for faults, her mind would rove far out into life.

She was copying from two books the little "prof" had given her, the "Life and Letters of George Sand"; and "The Work of Susan B.Anthony." And as Ethel pounded on, each book in its own way revealed exciting vistas to her eyes of life in great cities both here and abroad, life earnest and inspiring, life bright and thrilling, brilliant, free! "Oh, your future life, my love, will be far from dull and blinking!" And this mood lasted for two weeks.

Then as her hand grew more expert, and she scanned the papers for information of employment bureaus, there came some ugly hours when much pounding was required.

She went out and tramped the streets, meeting the town with angry eyes that struggled for self-confidence.