one satisfactory glimpse of life--the moment when they "issue forth from
themselves" and are stirred and thoroughly interested. They quite simply
adopt as their own, and imitate as best they can, all that they see
there. In moments of genuine grief and excitement the words and the
gestures they employ are those copied from the stage, and the tawdry
expression often conflicts hideously with the fine and genuine emotion
of which it is the inadequate and vulgar vehicle.

As in the matter of dress, more refined and simpler manners and mode of
expressions are unseen by them, and they must perforce copy what they
know.

If we agree with a recent definition of Art, as that which causes the
spectator to lose his sense of isolation, there is no doubt that the
popular theatre, with all its faults, more nearly fulfils the function
of art for the multitude of working people than all the "free galleries"
and picture exhibits combined.

The greatest difficulty is experienced when the two standards come
sharply together, and when both sides make an attempt at understanding
and explanation. The difficulty of making clear one's own ethical
standpoint is at times insurmountable. A woman who had bought and sold
school books stolen from the school fund,--books which are all plainly
marked with a red stamp,--came to Hull House one morning in great
distress because she had been arrested, and begged a resident "to speak
to the judge." She gave as a reason the fact that the House had known
her for six years, and had once been very good to her when her little
girl was buried. The resident more than suspected that her visitor knew
the school books were stolen when buying them, and any attempt to talk
upon that subject was evidently considered very rude. The visitor wished