with no proper kitchen accompaniments, and an unsavory garbage-barrel in
the small back yard, under the next neighbor's windows. These houses are
so close together that sounds and smells mingle; there is so little land
that there is no satisfaction in caring for it. Houses of this sort are
altogether too frequently found, occupying good locations and jarring on
the nerves of the better-trained young people of to-day. What is to be
done with them? They are too expensive to pull down, and hence are the
last resort of those who find they must retrench. They are mere temporary
shelters, not loved homes.

The plumbing is usually of a cheap order, and the drains are not
infrequently broken, so that sanitarily these dwellings are often more
suspicious than the abandoned farmhouse.

(4) The influx from village and country made demand for city housing of
an inexpensive sort, and there came into being all over the land the type
of the family house squeezed by the price of land to four stories high, 16
to 20 feet wide, built in long rows and blocks. The "ugly sixties" bred
not only distressful village "villas," but unpleasant city houses of this
type, which are to-day a real menace to wholesome living. Many such blocks
may be found in any of our older cities, casting a depressing influence
upon all who come in sight of them, and deteriorating the manners and
morals of all who live in them. For these have gone the way of the other
classes mentioned and become perverted from the uses they were designed
for. In the seventies there were still motherly women who had come to town
to make a home for the children no longer content out of it. They were
willing and capable of mothering a few other children and lonely teachers
and clerks, so the boarding-house began as a real family home for the
homeless. There were not enough of these women to go around, and soon
boarding-houses began to be run for profit only. Home privileges were