CHAPTER VII 

 THE SHOUTS OF CHILDREN 



I believe it is a crime to rear a child in 

 New York city, or any great city. The 

 man who is imprisoned in this living tomb 

 by business, may plead a fair excuse, yet it 

 is none the less a crime. 



It is a physical and spiritual impossibility 

 to rear a normal human being under the 

 conditions which surround child-life in the 

 modern city. His earth is merely a huge 

 cobblestone with asphalt patches. There is 

 no sun or moon or star. Day and night are 

 one. The seasons disappear. Artificiality 

 is the rule, and Nature becomes a synonyme 

 for sin. 



I shall never forget the sight of five hun- 

 dred city waifs I ran into one hot July night 



