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the old school; they lived in old buildings with some marble steps that a maid wiped off every morning amid great elegance and richness. The houses all looked alike. You never knew from the outside how elegant these houses were inside. They were beautiful inside with beautiful things.

These women stood by me, as did Mrs. E.B. Leaf. They used to give me good advice. At any rate, I made investigations of lodging houses. I never saw such places. My family, of course, had no idea of what I was doing. If they had known that I was going into alleys in Philadelphia - real alleys with brick gutters where the sewage ran out - and that up in that alley there were two or three lodging houses where immigrant girls and decrepit old hags had rooms and sometimes prostitutes - the lowest grade of prostitutes - they would have been amazed. I investigated some.

In one of these investigations I went into a house on Second Street in Philadelphia. It was one of the most poverty-stricken and depraved houses I ever saw. I just boldly walked in to make my investigation with my little note book to see how many rooms they had, how many lodgers they took and so forth. It was divided into floors. The first floor had an Italian-Irish family on it. There were others above. Everybody was in dire poverty - terrible poverty. Two of the floors kept lodgers - maybe all kept