fice, in a year
of 365 days spend about 2880 hours of this time in sleep. Taking the
average working-day as nine hours and the number of working-days in the
year as 300, excluding Sundays and holidays, each person is employed in
needful occupations 2700 hours during the year. Out of the working-days, a
total of 2100 hours are at each person's disposal to use as he sees fit.
Of the remaining 60 days, 15 hours of each day are for free use,--or a
total of nearly 35 per cent of the entire year. What are the children,
young people, and adults doing with this time?

One answer is found in the records of the juvenile court, in rescue homes,
in reformatories, in the police and criminal courts, in jails and
penitentiaries, in hospitals for the treatment of venereal diseases, the
insane and feeble-minded; another in the fallen women (and men, too), of
whom so much has been said of late; another in the crowded saloons and
busy restaurants in the heart of the city, with their music, bright
lights, food, liquor, and overdressed, painted women with their consorts;
still another in the billiard-rooms and the moving-picture theaters.

The extent to which people of all ages and races resort to the
moving-picture show is known by few people. In Portland, Oregon, a weekly
attendance of 5000 is reported for a house with a seating capacity of 175;
a weekly attendance of 3500 for a house seating 75; a weekly attendance of
25,000 for a house seating 500. Another with a seating capacity of 567
reports a weekly attendance of 22,000. The attendance of all the
moving-picture houses in any city is a startling revelation of the use of
the time of the people.

All forms of leisure-time consumption are offshoots of the one great
common meeting-place of all the people, the street. The street is more
than an avenue for traffic. It is the social meeting-place of many of the
inhabitants. It is the playground of nearly all the children. Its glitter
and glare, its lights and shadows and care-free spirit, attract boys and
girls. They come as moths flutter about the candle flame and often with
equally disastrous results. The call of the street is irresistible. It is
the simplest, most convenient avenue for the satisfaction of that hunger
for pleasure, excitement, amusement, and recreation, common to all ages,
all races, and both sexes. It is the avenue for the spontaneous outpouring
of the spirit of democracy. No matter how thickly the city may scatter its