his legs stretched out under the hearth. His big coat collar was
turned up around his neck, and his chin sunk down, so that his face could
not be seen. His long, straight hair covered his ears and the sides of
his face. He did not look up until he was directly questioned by Mr.
Shultz, and then he simply raised his chin far enough to grunt. The
girl, when spoken to, looked up slyly and laughed.

"The man, on being asked if he was unable to work, said he would be glad
to work if he could get anything to do. He was a painter, and belonged
to a painters' protective union. But there were so many out of
employment, that it was useless trying to get any help. He pointed to an
old basket filled with coke, and said he had just sold their last chair
to buy it. He had worked eighteen years at the Metropolitan Hotel, but
got out of work, and has been out ever since. Mr. Shultz offered to take
the little girl into the House of Industry, and give her board, clothes,
and education. He asked the father if he would let her go, saying the
place was only a few steps from them, and they could see her often. The
man replied that he did not like a separation from his child. The
missionary assured him that it would be no separation, and then asked the
mother the same question. She stood speechless for several moments, as
if thinking over the matter, and when the missionary, after using his
best arguments, again asked her whether she would allow him to take care
of her child, she simply replied, 'No.' She said they would all hang
together as long as they could, and, if necessary, all would starve
together.

"This family had evidently seen better times. The man had an honest
face, and talked as if he had once been able to earn a respectable
living. The woman had some features that would be called noble if they
were worn in connection with costlier apparel. The girl was unmistakably
smart, and the only thing to mar their appearance as a family, so far as
personal looks were concerned, was the thick-lipped, slovenly boy."

II. THE CELLARS.

If the people of whom I have written are sufferers, they at least exist
upon the surface of the earth. But what shall we say of those who pass
their lives in the cellars of the wretched buildings I have described?

A few of these cellars are dry, but all are dirty. Some are occupied as
dwelling-places, and some are divided into a sort of store or groggery
and living and sleeping