that include a meal?” she inquired innocently.
The man scoffed, looking down his nose. “Certainly not.”
Margaret was disappointed, and hungry. “Do you know where I can get a meal?”
“Nowhere close at this late hour,” he answered. “Unless you want to go to one of those fancy restaurants up town.”
Margaret sighed slowly and considered her options. She was so weary from the long day.
“Do you want the room or not?” the impatient clerk barked.
Margaret nodded. “I’ll take it.” She opened the string on her purse and pulled out the necessary money. Then she noticed a sign on the wall behind the counter and pulled out another half dollar. “And here’s my money for the hot bath,” she said, nearly blushing. If she couldn’t get a good meal, she could at least get clean. Besides, she wanted to look her best for her interview tomorrow.
The clerk took her money with an exasperated scowl and handed over the key. “Go up to the third floor. Room three-A,” he spoke. “I’ll be up shortly with your hot water.”
Margaret signed her name in the guest register before heading up the stairs. They were covered in a soft red carpet, so her feet made no noise going through the tall corridor. The room was easy enough to find and she entered with relief. The space was at least eighteen feet long; it would be the largest she had ever slept in alone. There were bigger rooms for the children at the orphanage, but she had shared them with twenty other girls.
A large double bed rested near the corner. Next to it stood a small washstand. Beside that was a window, chair and a small desk. A small empty furnace stood in the front corner next to a tall bureau. An old fringed carpet covered the hard wood floor. What luxury this seemed, well worth the four dollars. Margaret placed her bag on the bed and removed her hat. She looked out the window into the semi-darkness before pulling down the shade. As she sat on the bed, fingering the stitches on the quilt, someone tapped on the door. When she opened it, the clerk stood there; his pants were sloshed with water. He did not look happy.
“Your bath is ready across the hall,” he spoke and pointed. “When you’re done, turn the lever to the left to let out the water.” He turned and tromped down the hall to return to his late night post.
Margaret grabbed her key and locked the door to her room. Over in the water closet, a small oil lamped burned on a stool. She shut and locked that door too and leaned over to feel the water. It was wonderfully warm. Not wasting a moment, Margaret undressed and stepped into the tub. The soothing water came halfway up her ribs. Bending her knees upwards, she was able to lower herself all the way to her shoulders. How heavenly this was! After a moment of just being and relaxing with her eyes closed, Margaret searched for the soap. The community bar rested in a porcelain dish on a small shelf on the wall. With it, she vigorously scrubbed, making herself clean and new. Soaking in this quiet moment, Margaret remained in the soothing bath water until her fingers wrinkled like raisins. By then, she was tired enough to fall asleep anywhere.
After drying off with the provided towels, Margaret replaced her clothes. Spotting a basket for used linens, she happily threw in her towel, pleased that this was one basket she would not have to empty.
Margaret returned to her room and changed into her nightgown. After she extinguished the lamp, she cracked her window for fresh air. But before climbing into the bed, she knelt down and folded her hands, offering up a long prayer of thanksgiving. When she was nearly done, she added, “And Lord, please let him love me. Amen.” With that, she hopped into bed and fell fast asleep.
When Margaret’s eyes opened the next morning, she was wide awake. It was much too thrilling a day to want to lie in bed and snooze, as she had wanted to do so very many times in the past. She leapt up and dressed quickly. After a trip to the water closet, Margaret braided her long red hair and wrapped it in a pretty spiral. After pinning it all to her head, she secured her new straw hat as well. Surely she had to find food next or she would faint away.
Thankfully, there was a restaurant just next door in between the two working class hotels. She ordered eggs, sausage and biscuits. This she washed down with a glass of cold milk, grateful that her stomach was full once again. When she paid for the meal, Margaret asked directions to the Simon and Braun Agency.
“The mail order company?” the manager asked.
Margaret smiled, glad that the man recognized the name. “Yes. The very one.”
“It’s at the end of Main Street,” he answered. “Ask anyone. It’s not hard to find.”
“Thank you so much!” Margaret smiled in return.
Dropping the handle of her purse around her wrist, Margaret went to find Main Street. It did not take long. She stood outside the doorway to the mail-order company with butterflies in her stomach and a pounding heart. Could she go through with it? Doubt fleeted through her mind, but she pushed it away and stepped inside. It smelled of tobacco.
“Hello ma’am,” a gentlemanly voice said.
After Margaret’s eyes adjusted to the dimmer interior, she spied a man sitting behind a large desk. He was in his forties with bushy sideburns. Margaret gulped down the nervous knot in her throat. “Hello.”
“What can I do for you?” he asked curiously.
With trembling fingers, Margaret opened her purse and pulled out a torn section of newspaper. This she placed on the man’s desk. “I’ve come because of this advertisement. I wish to be placed on your list of candidates,” she blurted quickly.
“I see,” he said, looking at her curiously. He then smiled and asked, “Can you read and write?”
Margaret was almost offended. She stood tall with her chin up, answering, “Yes sir. I certainly can.” What she really wanted to say was, ‘I read your advertisement didn’t I?’
“Very well, I’m Jack Simon, glad to be of service,” he stated. He reached into a desk drawer and pulled out several pre-printed sheets of paper. “Here are the requirements for our brides and a list of rules. Also listed are criteria for the men involved. Please read them. If you are still interested, sign the first page. Then I need you to fill out the second sheet. We take the answers to your questions and match you with a man desiring your particular attributes and skills.”
Margaret winced. “How long does that take?”
Jack Simon shrugged. “We’ve matched some in just hours, others take weeks.”
Weeks? Oh dear. Her money would run out. This was not good news. If it took them more than two weeks, she would be in trouble. She would have to make her seventy-four dollars last as long as possible. Maybe a boarding house would be cheaper than the hotel.
Margaret nodded and took the paperwork to a nearby desk. All the rules and regulations seemed fair. Among other things, the women were required to be faithful to their husbands and the men were required to provide their wife with food and shelter. Margaret signed on the solid line.
The second sheet asked many personal questions. How old are you? Have you ever been married before? Are you a widow or divorcee? Do you have any children? If so, what are their ages? What color is your hair? Eyes? What is your religion? List your skills. Do you have any medical problems? On the very bottom was an open space for additional comments.
