If you want to see the product of modern society all at once, have, so
to say, a bird's-eye view of centralised misery, go to see a "Home" on
visiting day. Look at the expectant faces of the inmates; the ones that
have somebody "outside." Cripples, consumptives, idiots, diseased of all
kinds pour in one after another. Some bring little bags of fruit and
cakes. One interchange was especially interesting to me. In a greasy old
newspaper a boy of twelve brought butts of cigarettes and cigars to his
old grandfather. In exchange he received a boiled potato and a few lumps
of sugar. The transaction over, the young one went his way and the old
fellow retired to his room to dry up the remnants of other men's
pleasures. This old fellow was held in great esteem by the others. Not
every old grandfather could obtain the weed from his grandson. To an old
man news was brought that his daughter had died. "When?" he asked
quietly. "Yesterday." "Why did you not let me know immediately?" he
inquired. "I was very anxious to know. As for us, the sooner we die the
better it is."
Those who come to visit "their people" at the Homes depend partially or
wholly on charity. No appearances are kept up. Information is given,
advice received. What to say, how to behave, where to go. Each class has
its wisdom. The paupers have theirs. If the supporters of organised
charity could hear what is thought and said about them and their good
deeds! Perhaps we would have a few homes less, but also the number of
people needing homes would be reduced.