Twenty years at Hull-house, with autobiographical notes . the comforted. I recall an incident which must have occurredbefore I was seven years old, for the mill in whichmy father transacted his business that day wasclosed in 1867. The mill stood in the neighbor-ing town adjacent to its poorest quarter. Beforethen I had always seen the little city of tenthousand people with the admiring eyes of acountry child, and it had never occurred to me thatall its streets were not as bewilderingly attrac-tive as the one which contained the glitteringtoyshop and the confectioner. On that day I hadmy first
Twenty years at Hull-house, with autobiographical notes . the comforted. I recall an incident which must have occurredbefore I was seven years old, for the mill in whichmy father transacted his business that day wasclosed in 1867. The mill stood in the neighbor-ing town adjacent to its poorest quarter. Beforethen I had always seen the little city of tenthousand people with the admiring eyes of acountry child, and it had never occurred to me thatall its streets were not as bewilderingly attrac-tive as the one which contained the glitteringtoyshop and the confectioner. On that day I hadmy first sight of the poverty which implies squalor,and felt the curious distinction between the ruddypoverty of the country and that which even asmall city presents in its shabbiest streets. Iremember launching at my father the pertinentinquiry why people lived in such horrid little housesso close together, and that after receiving his ex-planation I declared with much firmness when Igrew up I should, of course, have a large house, 4 TWENTY YEARS AT HULL-HOUSE. 1 r-i-»-«r;j;j53-r^,s^:^!as. V-. J I % \ Ii - u Homestead at Cedarville. EARLIEST IMPRESSIONS s but It would not be built among the other largehouses, but right in the midst of horrid littlehouses like these. That curious sense of responsibility for carryingon the worlds affairs which little children oftenexhibit because the old man clogs our earliestyears, I remember in myself in a very absurdmanifestation. I dreamed night after night thatevery one in the world was dead excepting myself,and that upon me rested the responsibility ofmaking a wagon wheel. The village street re-mained as usual, the village blacksmith shop wasall there, even a glowing fire upon the forge andthe anvil in its customary place near the door, butno human being was within sight. They had allgone around the edge of the hill to the village ceme-tery, and I alone remained alive in the desertedworld. I always stood in the same spot in theblacksmith shop, da
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