otal of 40. As a matter of fact 13 of the 40 had
died that year. The adult death-rate for the entire tenement population of
more than a million souls was that year 12.81, and the baby death-rate
88.38. Last year, in 1891, the case stood thus: Total population, 238,
including 47 babies. Adult death-rate per 1,000, 20.94; child death-rate
(under five years) per 1,000, 106.38. General adult death-rate for 1891 in
the tenements, 14.25; general child death-rate for 1891 in the tenements,
86.67. It should be added that the reduced baby death-rate of the
Barracks, high as it was, was probably much lower than it can be
successfully maintained. The year before, in 1890, when practically the
same improved conditions prevailed, it was twice as high. Twice as many
babies died.

[Illustration: THE MOTT STREET BARRACKS.]

I have referred to some of the typical Italian tenements at some length to
illustrate the conditions under which their children grow up and absorb
the impressions that are to shape their lives as men and women. Is it to
be marvelled at, if the first impression of them is sometimes not
favorable? I recall, not without amusement, one of the early experiences
of a committee with which I was trying to relieve some of the child misery
in the East Side tenements by providing an outing for the very poorest of
the little ones, who might otherwise have been overlooked. In our anxiety
to make our little charges as presentable as possible, it seems we had
succeeded so well as to arouse a suspicion in our friends at the other end
of the line that something was wrong, either with us or with the poor of
which the patrician youngsters in new frocks and with clean faces, that
came to them, were representatives. They wrote to us that they were in the
field for the "slum children," and slum children they wanted. It happened
that their letter came just as we had before us two little lads from the
Mulberry Street Bend, ragged, dirty, unkempt, and altogether a sight to
see. Our wardrobe was running low, and we were at our wits' end how to
make these come up to our standard. We sat looking at each other after we
had heard the letter read, all thinking the same thing, until the most
courageous said it: "Send them as they are." Well, we did, and waited
rather breathlessly for the verdict. It came, with the children, in a note
by return train, that said: "Not _that_ kind, please!" And after that we
were allowed to have things our own wa