It appalled Pierre to see how much of the little fortune received from the Bretton homestead had to be expended in reaching America. The money which had seemed such a fabulous sum in Bellerivre evaporated in the new land like the dew before the sun. Madame Bretton was too independent to consent to live with her brother's family and be a burden to them longer than was absolutely necessary, and therefore the renting and furnishing of a simple apartment became unavoidable. After this expenditure but a small bank account remained, and this the family agreed must not be cut in upon; something must be left in case of illness or disaster. In consequence the only way left to meet the expenses of daily living was for all three of them to take positions in the great silk mills, where so many hundreds of others were employed.

This was a great mortification to Pierre. Not that he was ashamed to have his family rated as working people. Every one in the world, at least those who were useful, worked in one way or another. His humiliation lay in the fact that he who had thought himself able to be the breadwinner for both mother and sister, was in reality nothing but an unskilled laborer, whose services for the present commanded but slight remuneration. The discovery was not only disconcerting but galling. It was bad enough to have Marie enter the mill. But his mother——! To think of his mother, at her age, becoming a mill operative!

If the step was as repugnant to Madame Bretton as to Pierre she at least made light of it. They must all live, she cheerily explained, and living in America was a far different problem from what it had been in the green valley of Bellerivre. And after all they were but doing what many another household in Paterson was doing. Why should it be any less dignified for her to labor in a mill than at raising silkworms? Besides, it might not be for long. When Marie and Pierre learned and became more expert maybe they would earn enough so that she could retire and stay within doors like a lady of fortune, keeping the home and—she jestingly added—dressing in some of the very silk she had helped to make. Thus with affectionate banter Pierre's objections were quieted if not overcome, and through the influence of Mr. Gautier, Madame Bretton's brother, who was a superintendent in one of the larger mills of the plant, good positions were found for the entire family.

Fortunately both Marie and Pierre were of an age to pass the Child Labor Laws of the State, an important detail of which Pierre had previously been in ignorance. Many children who applied for places, he learned, were constantly being turned away because they were too young; and because much of the work formerly done by them was now performed by women or girls.

Among the toilers in the vast manufactory almost every country was represented. There were more Italians than any other nationality; and ranking after them came Germans, Irish, and Dutch, with a scattering of French and Poles. It made the Brettons feel quite at home to find themselves among some of their own countrymen.

But what a different place Paterson was from the fertile valley they had left behind them! There were the great blackened factories—a city in themselves—with their tall chimneys and whirring wheels, which one came to hear almost in one's sleep. And there were the homes huddled closely together into which humanity was herded. Even the blue of the sky was dimmed by a veil of heavy smoke. What wonder that it took all the Brettons' courage to be cheerful under such conditions; or what marvel that many a time they sighed in secret for that far-away land where they had been born? But there must be no looking backward. Resolutely they crushed the homesickness that surged up within them, and began to learn all they could of this strange new country which in future was to be their home.

Paterson, their Uncle Adolph explained, had become the greatest silk centre of the United States, because it was so near New York, the city where most of the raw silk from European ports was received.

"But I do not understand why the factories are not built in New York itself," remarked Pierre.

"Taxes are too high and land is too expensive to afford the necessary area for such great mills as these," explained his uncle. "Small silk goods which can be made in little space are manufactured in New York; in fact, the headquarters for American laces, fringes, trimmings, and tassels is there. To have an ideal location factories must be so situated as to be near a large city which will assure the selling of goods, their shipment, and the chance to secure plenty of labor for the mills. Moreover, they must be built where, as I said, land is comparatively low priced and plentiful, and the taxes moderate. Such a combination is not easy to find. It explains why so many cities have in them the kinds of manufactures they have. It is an interesting study to follow out. Here in New Jersey, for example, we have throwing and spinning mills, large dyeing establishments, and we weave the finest of ribbons as well as broad goods."

"What do you mean by broad goods?"

"The term applies to dress materials and the silks that are sold in the shops by the yard," answered his uncle.

"Pennsylvania, too, is a large silk-making community," went on Mr. Gautier, "because fuel is cheap in that State; and because, since so many of the Polish, Irish, and German men work in the mines silk mills afford a livelihood for the great numbers of unemployed women, girls, and young boys in their families. In fact the State of Pennsylvania often gives to companies that will come into the mining districts and put up silk mills not only the land for their factories, but also sites for the homes of their employees. That is one thing that has brought so many silk mills into Pennsylvania. Quantities of ribbons and broad silks are made there, as well as velvets and upholstery goods. It is a great throwing and spinning centre."

"Tell me something about the other States," demanded Pierre, his eyes wide open with interest.

"Well, there is Connecticut—that is a large silk-making district. About two-thirds of the machine twist is manufactured there; and they turn out both narrow and broad goods—silks, velvets, plushes. At South Manchester some of the finest and most artistic American silks are made. Massachusetts stands at the front in the manufacture of sewing-silks, which require finely equipped plants and much heavy machinery; embroidery silks, wash-silks, and trimmings are made there, too."

Mr. Gautier paused a moment.

"Then there is Rhode Island," he continued. "That is a silk manufacturing State also, although it does not turn out anywhere near so much material as do the others that I have mentioned. If you want to be in the largest silk-making spot in America Paterson is the right place," he added, smiling down at his nephew. "There is no end of chance for a bright boy to rise in these mills. But you must be quick and work hard. You seem to be able to do both those things, Pierre. Just go to it, my boy, and you need not fear but you will be earning good wages soon."

In spite of his French ancestry Monsieur Gautier had caught the American slang.

Pierre glanced up into his face.

"I shall do my best for my mother's sake, if for no other," he replied.

"Well, you'll certainly have your chance to work here," laughed his uncle. "There is variety enough to please you, too. We have throwing mills; a place where we dye silk in the skein; a winding and weaving plant; another plant for dyeing goods in the piece; and a big printing and finishing plant. If you do not find something to suit you by the time you have worked through all these it will be your own fault. Of course women have the monopoly of certain parts of the work; but there is plenty left to go 'round, so do not worry."

With a twinkle in his eye Monsieur Gautier went into his office.

During the weeks that followed many new experiences did the Bretton family have, and much did they learn of silk-making. From every source available they gleaned information, for being versed in silk-raising they were eager to know all they could of the rest of the process, especially Pierre. He found there were hand-looms for the making of finer varieties of silks which were manufactured in smaller quantities and were of individual design. On American power-looms, which were surprisingly light of construction and were handled with great ease, most of the other goods were made. It was remarkable that a machine costing comparatively little and so simple to operate should be so accurate in weave, and turn out so much work. As for the old Jacquard loom that in a former day had transformed the industrial world—it had been so altered and improved as to be hardly recognizable. Formerly, he learned, looms of Swiss and German manufacture had been employed in America; but these had speedily given place to the American high-power automatic loom, especially for the making of ribbons which were woven the same way as were broad goods, except that the shuttle was not a flying but a fixed one, that moved from side to side like a sewing-machine. So clever was the construction of these looms that they seemed to be little short of thinking creatures; when plain ribbon was to be turned out the operatives who were paid so much for the cut or ten yard piece, had little to do beyond seeing that there was plenty of thread on the spools, and that the ends were tied when broken.

For the more expensive and elaborate ribbons, however, more involved machinery was required. One device after another had been added to eliminate human labor, but even then these machines needed more persons to operate them. As a result of their complexity the speed of these intricate machines was less, and in consequence the price of making the goods was increased. Nevertheless there was a vast improvement over past conditions, when all overshot and embroidered effects had to be worked out on hand-looms. It enabled Americans to turn now to home manufacture for their ribbons. It was nevertheless true, Mr. Gautier explained, that much of the home market was created by the high tariff on the French ribbons still manufactured on hand-looms; these continued to be of choice design and of greater variety of pattern than were the American goods that had to be turned out in larger quantities on power-looms. Were it not that the American ribbons could be bought cheaper the French ones would probably, in many cases, be preferred.

About one half of the total silk output of America, Pierre was told, was in dress goods. Many of these were rich in quality, but many were not. The American women eagerly followed the fashions and were, as a class, far more concerned about having silk of a fashionable color than possessing that which would wear a long time. In fact, they did not wish materials to wear too long. Most of them were fairly well-to-do and were able to discard a garment when a passing fancy had been gratified, and after a thing was passÉ they would rather toss it aside than wear it out. In consequence shopkeepers, who studied the market as if it were a thermometer, refused to cumber their counters with expensive goods which must only be shelved after their color or design was out of date. Such conditions had created an American market for cheap silks such as was unknown in Europe where quality was a far greater factor in the sale of silk materials. In the United States these flimsy dress goods could be turned out with little expense on American power-looms by unskilled workmen, whereas in other countries experienced men were needed to make them.

As for the soft satins or messalines, they were made almost entirely in Europe because the cost of American labor was too great for them to be produced here. The operatives making them were paid by the piece and the process of weaving was a slow one. The heavy brocades and tapestries for upholstery were usually of such elaborate design and so interwoven with gold thread that to manufacture them on power-looms was practically impossible; and as hand-looms were required European hand-loom work was cheaper than American.

"The flaw in our power-loom is that double threads cannot be handled," explained Mr. Gautier to Pierre. "Any goods requiring such treatment must of necessity be made on hand-looms."

So little by little Pierre's knowledge grew.

Military and upholstery trimmings, he ascertained, could be turned out in large quantities on power-looms; but dress and cloak trimmings, which were more elaborate, were made in America only in comparatively small quantities and again because of their intricate patterns and gold threads Europe could produce them cheaper on hand-looms. If, however, the pattern desired was sufficiently simple, and a large enough quantity of it was ordered to make it pay the manufacturer to bother with setting it up it could be made on the American power-loom. Fancy braids were made chiefly in Europe from the floss or spun silk taken from the outside of the cocoon; but plain braids, Pierre was interested to know, were made in America as cheaply and well as in Europe, most of them being manufactured from artificial silk.

It was a great surprise to Pierre to find there was such a thing as artificial silk.

"I knew there were artificial flowers and artificial—well, almost everything," laughed Pierre to his mother. "But artificial silk!"

He gasped.

"What is it made of, Pierre?" questioned Madame Bretton, who had come to regard with wonder the fund of information her big son was acquiring.

"The man who told me about it said that cotton and the pulp from soft wood were used for one sort," he answered. "Another kind comes from dissolving cellulose in chemicals, and forcing this mixture through long tubes into some sort of a bath that makes the material come out in threads; these threads can then be wound, spun, washed, soaked, and dyed. Here in America most of the artificial silk which, by the way, is known as viscose, has cellulose in some form as its base, afterward being treated with different combinations of chemicals."

"What shall we do with you, Pierre, if you learn so much?" questioned Madame Bretton mischievously.

Pierre smiled.

"I'm going to learn every bit I can, so that I may soon work up to earning lots of money," he said. "Then you and Marie can leave the mills, and I can take care of you."

"You are a good son," his mother answered with an odd little catch in her voice. "But do not be distressed because we are in the mills. Indeed we are very happy there."

"You would make the best of anything you had to do, Mother; you're that sort," replied the boy, taking her hand in his. "But I know well it is hard for you to work at a machine all day when you have never been accustomed to it, and I do not mean you shall do it one moment longer than I can help."

"There, there, son——" his mother's eyes filled, and to change the subject she said briskly:

"And these artificial silks of which you were telling me—are they good for anything else but for making braids?"

"Yes, indeed. Nitro and viscose silks are more brilliant and lustrous than are real silks. They have no such soft feeling, however. They feel more like the harsh, loaded silks made from thread which has been chemically weighted. But they are coming into demand more and more for such purposes as the warp and filling of various sorts of fabrics, rugs, silk stockings, and upholstery materials. Here in this country, where electricity is in general use, artificial silk is a blessing, for it serves as a substitute in the insulating of electric light wires, and the manufacture of mantles for lights."

"How clever people were to find anything that could be used instead of the real, carefully nurtured cocoon silk," mused his mother.

"I know it. I suppose chemists worked at the problem a long time before they solved it. That is the way most of the great discoveries were made. Still, the wild silk made by the moths of India is not carefully grown. From it the Oriental Tussah silk is made; then there is Eria silk, also an uncultivated product from India; the Fagara silk from China; and the Yamamai silk from Japan, which is next to domestic silk in value. All these are manufactured from silk spun by silkworms that have had no care. The foreman was telling me about it the other day."

There was a pause.

"What did you mean, Pierre, when you spoke of loaded silk?" questioned his mother. "I have heard the term used many times, but I have never understood it."

Pierre looked at her with amusement.

"Anybody would think that I was your schoolteacher, Mother mine!" he returned. "I feel very silly telling you things when you are so much older and wiser than I."

"I certainly am older; and I used to be a little wiser," replied his mother humorously, "but I shall not be so long. You see, dear, I never had much education and I am now too old to learn. But you are accumulating knowledge every day. You are like a sponge, Pierre. You seem to soak up every bit of information that you hear."

"I must get my schooling this way, Mother, since I can secure it in no other," answered the boy soberly. "And perhaps it is a good way after all, for since I am eager to know something I try and remember every scrap I hear. I may want to use it later."

"Your father used to say that no knowledge comes amiss," was his mother's soft answer. "How proud your father would be of you, Pierre!"

"But I must know more, and more, and still more, Mother, before I can get to the top!" exclaimed the boy eagerly. "And now to tell you of weighted silks. You see, in dyeing silk the material shrinks and loses about a quarter of its weight. Manufacturers found that by adding chemicals, or sugar and glucose during the boiling off, they could make up for this loss. That is how the custom started. Black silks, which shrunk the most, were treated first. Later the practice spread to colored, and even to white silks. Now, alas, the evil seems to have come to stay. Salts of tin in varying degrees are used in the dyeing of most silks, and the result is that the material becomes crisp and harsh so that it cracks when folded, and does not wear long."

"What a pity!"

"Yes. And yet perhaps the Americans, who are none too anxious to wear out their old clothes, are quite as well satisfied," chuckled Pierre.

"In what an endless number of ways silk is used!" reflected Madame Bretton.

"Yes. And when you have done with the ribbons, and trimmings, and braids, and silks, and upholstery brocades, and satins, think of the velvets and plushes that can now be made in this country in all sorts of fancy designs on power-looms instead of on hand-looms as formerly. Of course it is still cheaper to import certain kinds of velvets and plushes; but a great many of them are made here, as are the larger proportion of the velvet ribbons which are easily turned out on high-power machines."

"What about silk hosiery and underwear?" questioned his mother, much interested.

"Silk stockings and silk gloves, Uncle Adolph says, are a big American product. There is little finishing to them except putting the buttons on the gloves. In fact I read the other day that the silk used for them was only slightly adulterated, and that they were made even better than in Europe. But making underwear seems to be another story. Each garment manufactured has to be shaped as it is made, and therefore the process is a special one and the knitting is slow. This results in expensive labor, and a very limited output. After the seams are finished, the buttons on, the fancy braid and facings in place, and the final trimmings stitched where they belong, the profit is small. All this can be done much cheaper in Europe, and were it not for the protection of a high tariff, Uncle Adolph says, Americans would buy all such goods abroad. The tariff protects the American silk industry at every turn. I don't know where the United States would be without it! Then you must remember that after this silk underwear is done it is not sold to individual customers in any considerable quantity. Instead it retails piece by piece, and therefore every piece has to be folded and packed separately. No wonder such things are expensive here!"

"I never realized before how interesting the problems of making things were," said Madame Bretton, glancing up at Pierre.

"It is all fascinating when you take it as a whole. But if you just do one part of the work over and over and never connect it with the entire process, it is tiresome enough. Every workman should consider himself a link in the big chain, and try to make himself familiar with the other links. Then he will feel as if he is really doing something, and not just pegging away day after day as if he were a machine. That is why I want to learn all I can about silk as a complete industry. It makes winding bobbins and reeling thread a more important matter. Some firms, Uncle Adolph says, have moving picture lectures and by means of them explain to their employees the entire process of their particular industry so they will be more intelligent about what they are doing. I think that is a fine thing. Nobody likes to do some uninteresting thing over and over, week after week and year after year, unless he understands what he is doing. Even the money you earn doesn't help to make your work less monotonous. How can employers expect their men to have any ambition, or any desire to turn out flawless products unless they realize that each detail of a process makes the perfect whole? I mean to know every step of the road I am traveling so when I get to the top——"

"So when you get to the top you can make silk all by yourself," interrupted his mother, completing the sentence with a smile.

"Well, I'm going to know how, anyway," nodded Pierre. "And I wish to learn not only of silks and velvets, but laces, too. Laces are fussy, difficult, and expensive to make. I want to find out all about them. I know they have to have the strongest and most perfect thread. In Europe such goods are made either by hand, or on hand-looms. It is a slow process at best. But the power machines here, slowly as they are forced to work, can of course turn out lace much faster than it can be made in Europe on hand-looms. Consequently the commoner kinds of laces are made in this country, used, and worn out while they are in fashion; for the Americans shift their fashions in laces quite as fast as they do their fashions in silks. Before a certain design can be sent to Europe, manufactured, and sent back again the vogue for that particular pattern will have ceased and Americans will be wearing something else. That is what saves the lace trade for America. It is the same with the making of lace veils."

"There seems to be no keeping up with these Americans," laughed Madame Bretton. "Certainly there is no keeping up with their cost of living!"