After talking with the little prisoner she addresses the judge. "She
says its no use, your Honor, she does not want to reform--it will not
be worth while to put her on probation."

"Committed to the Mary Magdalene Home," says the judge, and the name
brings a startling surmise as to what He of Galilee would have said.

The foregoing is only a typical session of the court. Night after
night, from eight o'clock until one in the morning, the scene is
repeated. The moral effect and its reaction upon those who conduct the
proceedings--the judges, officers, and the police, cannot but be
deplorable; the evil done to those forcibly brought there could not be
over-estimated.

Substantially the law is that the women may not loiter in the streets
nor solicit in the streets, or in any building open to the public.
They may live neither in a tenement house nor in a disreputable house.
The law makes it a crime for the women to walk abroad or stay at home.
Their existence is not a crime, but only in an indirect way the law
makes them outlaws. Anyone wishing to prosecute or persecute finds it
easy to do so. The worst enemies of these unhappy women are to be
found, curiously enough, among both the best and the most evil people
in the community. The unspeakably depraved are the men who, either as
procurers, blackmailers, or the miserable men who live on a share of
their earnings. The excellent people who oppose any remedial
legislation which might relieve the situation, seem equally
responsible for the present condition, however well-intentioned they
may be.