Happy, excited, enthusiastic as they were, there was still that dread among the people of the “Batteria,” the name used to sum up all that pertains to Ellis Island. I saw more than one man with a little slip of notes in his hand carefully rehearsing his group in all that they were to say when they came up for examination, and by listening here and there I found that hundreds of useless lies were in preparation. Many, many persons whose entry into the country would be in no way hindered by even the strictest enforcement of the letter of the emigration laws, were trembling in their shoes, and preparing to evade or defeat the purpose of questions which they had heard would be put to them. Some of the people who had confided in me came around even two or three times to ask me whether I thought they looked at all “sick in the eyes.” One woman who fancied that her baby had trachoma gorged the child all that day in an effort to get it asleep and keep it asleep, so that the doctor should pass it without examining it, as she was prepared to protest against its being waked up. More than once I heard leaders of groups telling men: “Remember, you have got no work and you paid your own way.” “Oh, but they will not let me in if they think I have no work and will have no money to keep my family from charity,” protested one fellow whom I knew was under promise of work. “That makes no difference; you are a jackass not to do as I tell you; don’t you think I know my business?” was the answer he received.