A RELAPSE INTO BARBARISM. 193 



curious fact : the human being is capable of a 

 certain amount of civilization under the pressure 

 of the necessities of city life. He or she 

 will learn to dispose inoffensively of the waste 

 and rubbish that drag after him like a trail 

 wherever he goes. He and always likewise she 

 can be taught to burn his waste paper, to bag 

 his rags, to barrel his ashes, to burn the refuse 

 from his table, to hide the relics of china and 

 glass. In fact, he can live in a modern house 

 with no back yard, no " glory-hole " whatever. 



Yet if one would see how superficial his cul- 

 ture, how easy his relapse into barbarism, he 

 need only open his windows upon an empty lot. 

 This tempting space, this unguarded bit of the 

 universe, brings out all the savage within him. 

 Ashes and old boots, broken glass, worn-out tin 

 pans, and newspapers whose moment is over, 

 alike drift naturally into that unfortunate spot. 

 The lot under my window had suffered at the 

 hands of lawless men, not to say women, 

 for it offered the eternal oblivion of " over the 

 back fence " to no less than ten kitchens with 

 their presiding genii. 



Nor was this all. The lot and all the land 

 about it had belonged to an unsettled estate, and 

 for years had been a dumping-ground for carts, 

 long before the surrounding buildings had begun 

 their additions to its stores. 



