ence, which he sent to his wife.
Afterwards, he discovered that she had been living with another man,
who died and left her well off. But she has never refunded the L9, nor
will she have anything to do with her husband.

OAKHILL HOUSE

MANCHESTER

Oakhill House is a Rescue Home for women, which was given to the Army
by Mrs. Crossley, a well-known local lady. It deals with prison,
fallen, inebriate, and preventive cases. At the time of my visit there
were sixty-three inmates, but when a new adjacent building is
completed there will be room for more. There is a wonderful laundry in
this Home, where the most beautiful washing is done at extremely
moderate prices. The ironing and starching room was a busy sight, but
what I chiefly remember about it was the spectacle of one melancholy
old man, the only male among that crowd of women, seated by a
steam-boiler that drove the machinery, to which it was his business to
attend. (No woman can be persuaded to look after a boiler.) In the
midst of all those females he had the appearance of a superannuated
and disillusioned Turk contemplating his too extensive establishment
and reflecting on its monthly bills.

The matron in charge informed me that even for these rough women there
is no system of punishment whatsoever. No girl is ever restricted in
her food, or put on bread and water, or struck, or shut away by
herself. The Army maxim is that it is its mission not to punish but to
try to reform. If in any particular case its methods of gentleness
fail, which they rarely do, it is considered best that the case should
depart, very possibly to return again later on.

She added that although many of these women had committed assaults,
and even fought the Police, not one of them attacks another in the
Home once in a year, and that during her twenty years of work,
although she had lived among some of the worst women in England, she
had never received a single blow. As an illustration of what the
Salvation Army understands by this word 'work' I may state that
throughout these twenty years, except for the allotted annual
fortnight, this lady has had no furlough.

THE MEN'S SOCIAL WORK

GLASGOW

I saw the Brigadier in charge of the Men's Social Work in Glasgow at a
great central Institution where hundreds of poor people sleep every
night. The inscriptions painted on the windows give a good idea of its
character. Here are some of them: 'Cheap beds.' 'Cheap food.'