|GOING THROUGH ELLIS ISLAND|
IT is at least a question whether the visitor to Ellis Island looks at the newly landed immigrant with eyes any more curious than those with which the immigrant looks at the visitor. The one sees the timidity, the surprise, the fear and the expectation of the new-comer. The other sees what is to him a wonderful model of all that is American.
It is a busy island. Yet in all the rushing hurry and seeming confusion of a full day, in all the babel of language, the excitement and fright and wonder of the thousands of newly-landed, and in all the manifold and endless details that make up the immigration plant, there