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title: 'The Day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, May 08, 1915, MOVING PICTURE EDITION, Image 18',
meta: 'News about Chronicling America - RSS Feed',
Image provided by: University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL
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A MAN'S FAD
By Roscoe Dexter
.James Martyn, the millionaire
owner of the Martyn Ship Construc
tion Co., turnedTtahis secretary, Miss
'Edna Summers, with a rather shame
"The committee is waiting outside,
Miss Summers," he said. "You are
quite sure you are willing to see
"Quite sure," answered the pretty
"It is in the interests of sociology,"
continued her employer. "It is the
hardest thing I have ever had to do."
"You mustn't care about my feel
ings, Mr. Martyn," answered the girL
"In the interests of sociology any
thing is justifiable."
The millionaire went out, to return
in the company of a committee of in
vestigators, mostly whitebearded and
bald, who stared in astonishment at
the comely, refined -young woman
standing quietly before them.
"Surely this young lady has never
been a a convict!" exclaimed the
"Yes, gentlemen," answered the
millionaire, "and I thought that be
fore showing you over my plant I
would take you in here and demon
strate my greatest success in my
scheme for reclaiming human wreck
age. As you know, it is my boast
that I can reform any man or wom
an in the world. Given a chance to
labor honestly, nobody is irredeema
ble. Three-fourths of my most trust
ed employes are ex-convicts."
"But what have been this lady's
crimes?" inquired the spokesman,
stroking his beard.
"She was the worst woman in Bos
ton, sir. She has served one years as
a pickpocket, one year for larceny,
six months for stealing in department
ires and six months for receiving
' goods. When I engaged her,
her only redeeming qual
7e for her old father and
mother. Now she handles an aggre
gate of $4,000 a day in hard cash."
"Wonderful," ejaculated the spokes
man and the committee, watching
Miss Summers in fascination. "And
I understand, Mr. Martyn, that you
pay each of your employes, whether
male or female, $35 a week, irrespec
tive of the work they do?" '
"That is so, sir," answered Mr.
Martyn. "It is my theory that $35 is
the minimum, living wage on which
one can exist in comfort, in these
IKSH 1 1' wu&fc1
"Surely This Young Lady Has Never
Been a Convict"
days of soaring prices. At that sal
ary my employes are safisfied and
endeavor to make themselves worthy
of my confidence. In fact, it is not'
only just, but it pays."
He followed them out, to conduct
them upon their tour of his estab
lishment. The moment that the door
closed behind them Miss Summers
took out her handkerchief and burst
into tears. She sobbed unrestrained
ly forborne minutes; then, as sudden
ly ceasing, she dabbed at her eyes,