f German, was endowed with cruelty truly international. Her father
was a drunken machinist of German extraction, generally out of a job.
Both the parents beat the little girl, the mother because she was cruel,
the father because he was a beast.

Her earliest memories are connected with the smoky streets of the West
Side. The smell of the Stock Yards suggests her youth to her, as the
smell of walnuts brings back to the more fortunate country man the rich
beauty of a natural childhood. The beatings she received from her
parents and the joy of her escape to the street--these are the strongest
impressions derived from her tender years. To her the street was
paradise; her home, hell. She knew that when she returned to the house
she would find a mother half crazy with poverty and unhappiness and a
father half crazy with drink; and that, if for no other reason than for
diversion and relief, they would beat her.

The authorities finally succeeded in forcing the little girl's parents
to send her to school, where she remained only two years. She was not
quite ten years old at the time, and the memories she has of her school
life are only a trifle less unpleasant than those of her home. The last
day in school especially lives in her recollection; and she thus
described it in a letter to me:

"It was a warm morning toward the end of May, and room seven in the
Pullman School was pervaded with an intense excitement. For soon
examination day would come and the pupils were being prepared for the
occasion. The children fidgeted uneasily in their seats and even the
teacher became nervous and impatient, glancing often at the big clock
which ticked so monotonously and slowly. Soon it would be twelve o'clock
and teacher and pupils would have a respite for a few hours. If only
those stupid children would solve those problems in arithmetic, the most
difficult study, they would not have to stay after school. But it
happened just as the teacher had feared: A dozen children, of whom two
were boys, did not give correct answers. After the school was dismissed
the stupids were ordered to go to the blackboard, and stay there until
they saw the light.

"Meanwhile the teacher sat at her desk with a despairing look on her
face and the general air of a martyr, as she noticed the futile efforts
of those stupid children. But she was evidently determined not to help
them out of their difficulty. After a while, one of the boys solved the
problem and was