“Got a girl leaving at the end of the month. But you’ll have to get all your frames up to peak production before then or it’ll go to someone else.” He looked at the time and stood.
Briar backed out the door. “Thank you, sir.” She smiled. Now, to make frame number four behave.
As soon as she got to her frames, Briar performed a quick clean and oiling before stuffing cotton into her ears in preparation. When the next bell sounded, she threw the shipper handles on the first frame, wincing as the overhead leather belts began slapping into action, causing her spindles to whine as they twirled the thicker roving into thinner thread. She tapped the foot pedal to jog the rail until she was satisfied the threads were taut before moving on to the next frame.
The sound, or rather noise, was her least favorite part of the job. Some girls minded the close air. They had to keep the windows shut and the humidity high or the threads would break and they’d be run ragged on their feet all day mending the breaks. But Briar had gotten accustomed to a perspiring forehead, and the air did make for a natural greenhouse. At last count there were sixty potted plants in the spinning room alone, making the indoors pretend to be the outdoors.
The dinner bell rang at noon, and quick as anything, the girls all shut off their frames and scurried for the door. They had one hour to run home, get a bite to eat, and be back at their frames. Briar pulled the cotton out of her ears and stuffed it in her apron pocket for later. The silence was deafening after all that noise.
When Mim caught up to her from the weaving room, Briar could see from her quick pace and mischievous grin she had news.
“The overseer and agent were talking near my loom today and you’ll never guess what they were saying.”
“What?” Briar asked, wondering what would hold Mim’s interest.
“They were talking about that new mill being built up in Burlington. They say they’re bringing in more than seven hundred looms this summer. A new model that practically runs itself. They say a girl could operate sixteen all on her own.”
“Sixteen? You’re not thinking of moving, are you?” One friend leaving was enough. Briar didn’t want it turning into an epidemic.
“No, silly, but I thought you might be interested, since that Wheeler boy of yours got hired by the Queen City Cotton Mills to help them set it all up. Of course, you could go as a spinner, too, since they’re going to have thirty thousand spindles. I just thought you’d like to move up to a loom.”
Briar stopped walking. Operatives zooming by in a hurry to eat jostled her, but she didn’t care. Why would Wheeler move to another mill, in another town, no less, when he was waiting for a job at the shirtwaist factory?
“Oh. You didn’t know? Not to worry, it’s not until midsummer so you still have some time.”
Briar was speechless, her mind gone numb. A push from behind made her start walking again.
“Did you hear me?” asked Mim. “It’s a great opportunity. You can get a job with Queen City, too. I heard the town is beautiful, right on Lake Champlain. Pierre grew up across the border and told me all about it. You’ll love it.”
Briar drew in a breath. She had been hoping to move up to the weaving room because working the looms paid more and the job wasn’t as tedious. But to move away from the children? It was what she was trying to prevent.
However, if she got a loom job, Nanny might agree to keep the children longer, knowing that Briar had a promotion and could send more money home.
Mim pinched Briar’s arm, pulling Briar out of her reverie. “Ouch.”
“Listen. My cousin was talking about taking a job there, too. He knows the agent and said he’d put in a word for me if I wanted to move closer to home, but I’d rather stay here. I like living away from my meddlesome family. He could put in a word for you, instead.”
“Yes, please.” By now they had reached home, and they scooted up the stairs following the stream of their fellow hungry operatives.
“Please what?” asked Ethel, who had caught up with them as they made their way into the dining room.
“We’re going to get Briar transferred to the new mill with Wheeler,” explained Mim.
Briar cringed. Why can’t Mim ever whisper? She quickly looked for Sadie and saw she was already seated at the far table, hopefully out of earshot. Briar wondered if Sadie would be upset when Wheeler left, or would she quickly move on to someone else? Briar didn’t know her well enough to be sure how deep her feelings ran, though Mim was convinced they were as shallow as a butter dish.
“Mim overheard them talking about a new mill being built in Burlington. She thinks I could get a loom job there.”
“Have you even thought this through?” said Ethel, steering Briar away from where Mim sat down. “Leaving everything behind is not a decision to be made quickly.”