THE FARMER'S WAR AGAINST MONOPOLIES. 291 



the city, where there is no room for them, and where 

 snares and dangers lie thick along their paths. Too 

 often they yield to them, and go down into the dread- 

 ful abyss from which no woman ever comes back. 

 Oh ! the sad stories of farmers' daughters that one 

 hears in the great city of New York. How they come 

 crowding there, year after year, frightened by the hard 

 life at home, and, in their eagerness to escape from it, 

 rushing upon a doom so terrible that even the hardest 

 lot of honest labor would be joyfully embraced could 

 they but see the end when taking the first step. 



Not long ago, a gray haired old man came to New 

 York from his farm in New England, in search of his 

 daughter. He was accompanied by his son. He told 

 a sad tale to the police. Owning his farm, and nomin- 

 ally well to do in the world, he was still barely able to 

 provide a support for his family. One of his daughters 

 the eldest appreciating his difficulties, and wishing 

 to help him by relieving him of her support, had left 

 home with his consent, and had come to the great city 

 to obtain work. For awhile she succeeded, and not 

 only earned enough to keep her in comfort, but x man- 

 aged to send an occasional remittance to the old people 

 at home. By and by there was a change. Her letters 

 became rarer, and at length ceased. Weeks passed 

 away, but no letter came, and, in alarm, the old man 

 had come to the city to find his child. He was sure 

 she was not dead, and he dreaded to find that she had 

 gone the way that so many go. He applied to the 

 police, and in the official to whom he confided his 

 story he found a sympathizing friend. Inquiries among 

 the members of the force enabled the officers to recog- 

 nize the girl by her father's description as one who had 



