will be found groups of two or three girls, who through economy and natural feminine adaptability solved the living problem in a perfectly satisfactory way. Two such girls I found living in a small model apartment on the extreme northern end of Manhattan Island, within walking distance of the subway, which whisks them to their work in a little more than half an hour. They are on the top floor, which means five flights of stairs to climb, but they have splendid ventilation, sanitary plumbing, steam heat in winter, and a good breeze in summer. In their wee parlor are an upright piano, a bookcase filled with good reading, an artistic and powerful lamp, which bespeak pleasant and profitable evenings after the day's work is done.
Here is the story of their housekeeping progress:
"We started in an attic," explained one of the girls. "We were working for seven dollars a week in an underwear factory and living in a 'home.'
"We waited until spring, when the question of steam would not enter into our arrangements, and then we struck out to keep house. We found a forlorn attic, whose one redeeming feature was its wealth of sunlight and fresh air. It was atop an old-fashioned house with three steep flights to climb, rent five dollars a month. When we had cleaned and let in the air and sun-
