phia, where the authorities were helping the
colonies by rigidly enforcing the sweat-shop ordinances. Inquiries I
made as to the relative cost of living in the city and in the country
brought out the following facts: A contractor with a family of eight
paid shop rent in Sheriff Street, New York, $20 per month; for four
rooms in a Monroe Street tenement, $15; household expenses, $60. Here
he pays shop rent (whole house), $6; dwelling on farm, $4; household,
$35. This family enjoys greater comfort in the country for $50 a month
less. A working family of eight paid $11 for three rooms in an Essex
Street tenement, $35 for the household; here the rent is $5, and the
household expenses $24--better living for $17 less a month.

Near the village a Jewish farmer who had tracked us from one of the
other villages caught up with us to put before Mr. Sabsovich his
request for more land. We halted to debate it in the road beside a
seven-acre farm worked by a Lithuanian brickmaker. The old man in his
peaked cap and sheepskin jacket was hoeing in the back lot. His wife,
crippled and half blind, sat in the sunshine with a smile upon her
wrinkled face, and listened to the birds. They came down together,
when they heard our voices, to say that four of the seven acres were
worked up. The other three would come. They had plenty, and were
happy. Only their boy, who should help, was gone.

It was the one note of disappointment I heard: the boys would not stay
on the farm. To the aged it gave a new purpose, new zest in life.
There was a place for them, whereas the tenement had none. The young
could not be made to stay. It was the old story. I had heard it in New
England in explanation of its abandoned farms; the work was too hard,
was without a break. The good sense of the Jew recognizes the issue
and meets it squarely. In Woodbine strenuous efforts were being made
to develop the social life by every available means. No opportunity is
allowed to pass that will "give the boy a chance." Here on the farms
there were wiser fathers than the Lithuanian. Let one of them speak
for himself.

His was one of a little settlement of fifteen families that had fought
it out alone, being some distance from any of the villages. In the
summer they farmed, and in the winter tailoring for the Philadelphia
shops helped them out. Radetzky was a presser in the city ten years.
There were nine in his house. "Seven to work on the farm," said the
father, proudly, sur