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at that time. They were just as nice as they could be about it, but the school had overwhelmed them. Unfortunately they had four elderly ladies who had been living there for some years and were not quite decrepit. They couldn't put them out. They had no other rooms. They were very sorry.

I'd begun to realize that there would be more written in the paper about my going to live in a convent than there would be about my wearing a red satin dress trimmed with jet, sequin, or something else and sitting down at a table set with gold plate and pink roses. I was very aware of the poverty of the people and the tension that was existing all over the country. I had been around the country in the campaign and I had seen poverty. I had seen these lost boys in the railroad yards in St. Louis and Kansas City. I had seen the people pulling the baseboards and woodwork out of their houses to chop up and burn. I had seen them doing that in Detroit. The poverty and the strain of poverty was some thing terrible. Not only that, but I had seen the Hoovervilles in New York City. There was one in Central Park not very far from the 91st Street entrance, which was the entrance which we always took when we went to walk in the park. There was a camp for homeless men. They were allowed to camp out by the police in little packing box carton shelters, with any kind of old rags hung around