"Oh, your Honor, your Honor, not the workhouse. Oh, God, not the
workhouse," and she is borne out screaming and fighting and invoking
Christ to her aid. The judge turns and says in explanation, "an old
case, an example of what they all may come to."

A dark-haired little French woman is brought in with crimson lips,
bold black eyes, and expressive hands. A detective testifies that he
went with her into a tenement house on Seventeenth Street west of
Sixth Avenue. Charge: Violation of the Tenement House Law.

"Qu'importe," says the woman. "I go in ze street. I am arrested. I
stay in ze house. I am arrested. I take ze room. I am arrested.
Chantage--Blackmail. C'est pour rire."

Who are these women who are brought in a crowd together? One of them
older than the rest is a foreigner plainly dressed in black silk with
a gold chain. She does not seem particularly evil, but rather
respectable. The others are in long cloaks or waterproofs hastily
donned and through which are glimpses of pink stockings. They have
hair of that disagreeable butter color which speaks of peroxide. There
has been a raid on a west-side street of a house of ill repute. Some
testimony is given and the older woman, the "Madam" is held in bail
for the action of the Grand Jury while the rest are held for further
evidence. The judge tells us there will probably not be enough
testimony and they will be released in the morning. But unless bail
is found they will spend the night in cells.

A nervous, excited woman comes in--two policemen are with her. She has
been arrested for disorderly conduct on Sixth Avenue near Thirty-first
Street. She has been fighting with a man who has also been arrested