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THE GHETTO
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barracks. They have no home life. The very language proves it. The father returning from work asks his child in the street where her mother is; and back the answer comes, "In the buildings."
A new race has sprung up, a street people. They pass their lives at work and in the streets. They have dens and lairs into which to crawl for
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sleeping purposes, and that is all. One cannot travesty the word by calling such dens and lairs homes. The traditional silent and reserved Englishman has passed away. The pavement folk are noisy, voluble, high-strung, excitable when they are yet young. As they grow older they become steeped and stupefied in beer. When they have nothing else to do, they ruminate as a cow rumi-
