Directly I had a call in the prison. Berry could not get on with her white-washing, because Maggie had not done her sweeping, and came to me with a complaint,--
"Maggie won't sweep, and that keeps me waiting. Won't you tell her to sweep so I can white-wash?"
"Maggie, why don't you sweep so that Berry can white-wash?"
"I am, ma'am, as fast as I can. I have got all of the rooms to do before I do the floor."
"You need not wait, Berry. Take a broom and help her."
That was something that Berry did not calculate upon.
"If Maggie would get up in season she could get her work done herself; she loves her bed too well."
"I have told you of a way to get your work done if you do not wish to wait."
"You favor Maggie too much, and the other Matrons all say so. You ought to get her up in the morning, they all say."
"Take a broom and sweep that platform! Don't bring any tales to me from the other Matrons! When I wish you to teach me how to treat the women, I will ask you."
Berry chose to consider herself a very much injured woman, and began to snivel and grumble.
"I am going down to the shop to work. Maggie is so saucy I can't get along with her." She dared not express her disaffection towards me.
"Well, Berry, when you find yourself so much your own mistress as to go where you please, I will give you 'a character,' and you may go to the shop to work."
"What kind of a character?" asked O'Brien, who happened along at that moment.
"A good one. You are a pretty good woman, Berry. There is one fault which I think might be corrected by going to the shop. You are very much disposed to tattle, and that sometimes makes mischief. If you go to the shop, where you are not allowed to speak at all, you can't do that kind of mischief. That would save me, if it did not yourself, a great deal of trouble."
The kitchen was quiet after dinner and the work, before supper, done. I threw my head back, in the large chair in which I was resting, and drowsed.
The women sat buzzing, on low stools, just behind me. I had been too sleepy to notice what they were saying; finally a word or two that I heard attracted me to listen.
"Was you here, O'Brien?" asked Maggie; "when Ida Jones was pulled into the hospital by the hair of her head?"