The man had been robbed in as low and cowardly a manner as only a most depraved degenerate could be guilty of. Portland had helped to make that man destitute, and now he is forced to beg, steal or starve, until he finds another job, or perhaps, through desperation takes his life. Similar experiences in Portland have forced a great many to do that very thing. Several men have been found dead in a pretty green square in the heart of Portland's breathing spot, called the Plaza, and postmortem examinations have revealed nothing in their stomachs. And these tragedies have taken place almost within a stone's throw of the Associated Charities. A great pile of water and pitch-soaked blocks of kindling wood was piled in front of No. 10 North Second Street, a Jap restaurant. Some of the blocks were so heavy it was with difficulty they could be carried even singly. The wood belonged to the Japs. An old man, an American, some sixty odd years of age, was carrying it in. I asked him if he did not want a helper. He said, "I would like a helper but there is so little in it and there is not enough for two. I am carrying this all in for thirty cents and it will take me, I think, three hours." This old man had a good, kind face, and his clothes, though worn, were clean. He continued, "I have been playing in a little hard luck of late and must get all out of my work possible." I then asked him if he had breakfasted. He had not. I said, "I have a little money, come and have some breakfast and carry in the wood afterward." He said, "No, I won't take your money, I will soon be through here and get my pay." I was seated in Tragedy Square (the Plaza), near a neat, well-dressed young man, and while sitting there two young girls about sixteen or seventeen years of age came out of a door across the street, and passed through the Square. The young man remarked: "Do you see those two young women? They have just come out of the Woman's Department of the Free Labor Office. You can tell from their appearance they are honest girls, but they would sell all that is dear to them, even their purity, for something to eat and a place to sleep. I may be wrong but from their appearance I feel it is true." Stunned as by a blow, at the words from the lips of this stranger, with noticeable feeling I said, "That can't be possible. In this city of wealth, whose citizens boast of their refinement, their reasonableness, and their kindliness!"