Pretend you are a factory worker during the Industrial Revolution. Write a journal entry describing what your life is like.

December 12th , 1882  

Violet Hodges  

Age: 9  

Work: Seamstress  

Dear Journal,  

I am 9 years of age now. My birthday was yesterday. I live with my mother, my dad, and my three kin: Heather (13 yrs), Peter(2 yrs), and Rosemary(6 mths).  

Today would have been another tiring day not surprisingly. I woke up at 4 am to go to work at the production line. My sister Heather and I strolled there. We were running late. I didn't will have breakfast. I haven't in quite a while. When I had the opportunity to work I began to deal with the dress that I had begun yesterday. Somebody was gazing at me. It was the man in the uniform. He continued shouting at me since I was peering out the window. My sister murmured for me to stop it since we truly need the cash. Outside the window I saw a few young men and young ladies, much the same as me, playing in the road. I felt feelings that I have never experienced. I was furious and envious of those children. That man beat me with a stick for not working. My discipline was unreasonable. I didn't get my standard half hour mid-day break. He made me work straight through it! My stomach snarled. My hands and back hurt. I wish I could go out in play like those different children. Be that as it may, I wager they would gaze at me. I have a slouched back and my arms aren't with respect to my minuscule body. I worked long and hard until Heather disclosed to me the time had come to leave. We had been excused. Our day of work was finished. It's 6pm.  

My days are so horrendously long. I used to just work 10 hours every day. Since Thomas Edison concocted the light, I work 14 hours per day with just two brief breaks: one for lunch and one for dinner. Every so often I have no breaks. Today I never got a break. My compensation is just 20 pennies per day, however most young men more youthful than me get 25 to 30 pennies. I don't get why. Mama and Daddy state I need to work or we will be living in the city.  

Life is so uncalled for.  

Love,  

Violet

answer: b.

explanation: