rl dropped back to her pillow, and I crept under the
blanket. Later on I learned that each must have her drink of water
before entering the dormitory, because, once there, it was an iron-clad
rule that we should not leave until after the rising-bell had rung at
six the next morning. I also learned, later on, that had there not been
also an iron-clad rule against carrying lead-pencils into the
dormitory, the snowy-white walls were like as not to be scrawled with
obscenities during the night hours.

All sorts of girls seeking a night's refuge drifted into this
working-girls' home. Most of them were "ne'er-do-weels"; some of them
were girls of lax morality, though very few were essentially "bad."
When, however, they did happen to be "bad," they were very bad indeed.
And these lead-pencil inscriptions they left behind them were the
frightful testimony of their innate depravity.

Fortunately for me, I was quite ignorant on this first night of what the
character of the girls under the gray blankets might in all possibility
have been, and I settled myself to go to sleep with the thought that a
working-girls' home was not half bad, after all.

A little while later there was a fresh burst of childish voices and the
clatter of shoes on the stairs. It was the orphans marching up to bed
singing "Happy Day!" The music stopped when they reached the dormitory
door, which they entered silently, two by two. Their undressing was but
the matter of a few moments, so methodical and precise was every
movement. The small aprons and petticoats were folded across the foot of
each cot, and, on top, the long black stockings laid neatly. Each pair
of copper-toed shoes was placed in exactly the same spot under the foot
of each cot, and each little body, after wriggling itself into a gray
flannellet nightgown, dropped to its knees and bowed its head upon the
blanket in silent prayer.

After they had tucked themselves in bed a voice very near me, and which
I recognized as Julia's, whispered:

"May, are yez asleep?"

"No," muttered May.

"Say, is to-morrow bean day or molasses day?"

"Bean," replied May; and then all was silent in the dormitory, and so
remained save for the interruption caused by the tiptoe entrance of some
newly arrived "transient," some homeless wanderer driven here to seek a
night refuge.

In the morning we washed and combed in a large common toilet-room. There
were only a dozen face-bowls, and these we had to watch our