We enter the beautifully laid-out grounds surrounding the women's
quarters. What lovely lawns! What a variety of fragrant flowers! But we
must hurry, for we can not afford to miss the services. We ascend the
long flight of steps and are now greeted by the superintendent and his
wife, the matron. Next we traverse a long, wide hallway. Turning to the
left, we mount a few steps, and then come up against a solid iron
double door. Through an aperture in one side of it we get a glimpse of
the throng within. The door is unlocked for our admission, and, passing
through, we find ourselves facing anywhere from forty to sixty girls
and women, for the most part neatly attired in dark blue-print gowns.

"What a heterogeneous gathering we are confronting! Some look so
refined; doubtless they are from the better walks of life. Why are they
here?"

For offenses of various kinds too numerous to mention. "That dignified,
white-haired woman, third row on our left?"

Ask me about her later on. I will tell you on our way home.

"That pretty fair-haired girl about sixteen?"

Vagrancy. Her sentence expires in two weeks. We're trying to persuade
her to come to our home, because her own is undesirable. Both of her
parents drink; her older sister has taken the downward course and
refuses all our overtures; and her two brothers are constantly in
drunken bouts and then imprisoned.

"That old, old woman; what of her?"