weak and unprotected girl and give all the positive, helpful agencies an
opportunity to strengthen her against temptation.

I shall never forget my visit that Sunday afternoon to a detention
school for delinquent girls. Over in the corner of the room where the
afternoon service was to be held was the piano, the orchestra, made up
of members of the school, was gathering. There was a cornetist, two or
three violins followed, then a banjo and guitar. The service that day
was to be a great event, for the wonderful woman in charge of that
school who had done away with the cells, taken down the great spiked
iron fence and planted flowers in its stead had persuaded board,
committee and municipality to permit her to follow out the one great
desire of her heart. The girls were to wear on Sundays and other dress
occasions white Peter Thompson suits, big bows of ribbon in their hair
and shining, well-fitted shoes.

Soon _she_ entered the room. One could hardly take her eyes from that
sweet, sympathetic, calm, face. A glance told one she might trust her
with her soul's secrets without fear and might tell her _anything_ and
she would understand. After her came the girls and quietly, with an
attractive self-consciousness because of their new glory raiment, they
took their seats. Who could fail to forgive them if they fingered
lovingly the great soft silk Peter Thompson ties and patted the bows on
their hair. Some of them seemed scarcely more than children though some
were in their later teens. No one of the group present that afternoon
will ever forget how they sang, nor how they listened with eager
responsive faces. No one can tell what new hopes and ambitions were born
as they sat in their new finery, some of them for the first time in
their lives becomingly dressed.