Many men were seeking admission. I entered with the rest. At the office we gave a record of ourselves, who we were and where we were from, and what our calling was. Then we were taken into a large and spotless dining-room, where we were given a supper of soup, and it was real soup, too, soup that put health and strength into a man's body and soul. We also had coffee with milk and sugar, hot milk, and delicious bread and butter, as much as anyone wanted of it. After supper we were shown to a disrobing-room, where our clothes were put into netted sanitary trays and sent to a disinfecting-room. In the morning they came to us sweet and clean, purified from all germ or disease. From the disrobing-room we went into the bathroom where were playing thirty beautiful shower-baths of any desired temperature, and each man was given a piece of pure Castile soap. As we entered the bath a man who sat at the door with a pail of something, gave each one of us on the head as we passed him, a paddle full of the stuff. I said to the attendant, "What is that for?" "That's to kill every foe on you," he said, with an emphasis that was convincing. As he was about to give me another dose, I protested. "That's enough; I have only half my usual quantity tonight." But I got another dab nevertheless. After our bath and germicide, we were shown into a physician's room, where two skilled physicians examined each man carefully. The perceptibly diseased man was given a specially marked night-robe and sent to an isolation ward, where he received free medical treatment. Those who were sound in health and body, were given a soft, clean night-robe and socks, and were taken in an elevator up to the wonderful dormitories. I was assigned to bed 310. There were over three hundred beds in this dormitory, accommodating more than three hundred men. They were of iron and painted white, and placed one above the other, that is, "double-deck," and furnished with woven wire springs. The mattresses and pillows were of hair, and exceedingly comfortable. The linen was snowy white. I had been in bed but a short time when an old man about seventy years of age took the bed next to mine. As he lay down in that public place I heard him breathe a little prayer, ever so softly and almost inaudibly, but I heard it--"Oh, God, I thank Thee!" And I said to myself, "That prayer ought to build a Municipal Emergency Home in every city of our land." It came to me then what a great and wonderful social clearing-house it was or could be. I did not sleep, I did not want to sleep, but lay there taking mental notes of the soul's activity. The room was quiet and restful except for the restless man who silently walked the floor. As he came over near me I said to him, "Man, what is the matter?" He came close to my bed and said, with a hot, flushed face, "I was not considered a subject for the isolation ward, but I am on the verge of delirium tremens. Feel my pulse, isn't it jumping to beat the devil?"