Finally, one day, a rich man in Montclair needed a gardener. This man was rich--not rich like his brother--but had houses and acres of splendid farm. He would pay two dollars a day wages to a man willing to work. It seemed too good to believe. He would hurry back to his Baby and Mary. They must know the good news. So he came and told Mary he had a job, and a little home for her and the Baby. They would be rich like his brother. So Mary went with John and they took their Baby, all tied up in shawls. That was yesterday--Monday--so there will be no argument Thursday on "Whether or not old-fashioned cow's milk is better for babies than prepared foods." Because we homeless men have lost Our Baby. One of the boys asked the Chairman--another boy--if they would have the Debate, now that the Baby was gone? "To hell with it," replied the Presiding Officer. * * * * * The above is a true story, and to The Self Master Colony, all a part of the day's work. [Illustration] MY PROBLEM WITH SLIPPERY JIM "When a boy goes to prison, a citizen dies." --_Jacob Riis_ My Problem with Slippery Jim. "My razor went yesterday for a beef stew," the young dare-devil told me. "Not that I am one of those collar-and-necktie-rounders," he continued, "who seek to give out the impression that they are gentlemen in distress, telling you of their Southern family and a squandered fortune when, in fact, they have never been further South than Coney Island.... But when a fellow decides to sell his razor he is about to commit an act that severs the jugular vein of his respectability. "He may have, only the moment before, shaven and groomed himself with the utmost care, still he is nearly ready to join the ranks of the down-and-outs. A man may sell his other belongings--his clothes included--and yet preserve a suggestion at least of his _sang-froid_. But when the razor goes--" "Then he can get a free shave at the Barbers' School," I suggested. "That only helps for a day or two," he went on. "Better throw up your hands at once and have it over. What man half ill with worry cares to listen to some ambitious pupil say, 'Teacher, shall I shave the right side of his face up, or shave it down?'--and, 'Teacher, how do you shave the upper lip without cutting it?' and, 'Teacher, if I do cut it, shall I disinfect it with carbolic or peroxide before I put on the new skin?'--No Barbers' School for me. It is better to turn philosopher on the instant--the old philosophers and prophets grew long beards.... Talk about getting next to Nature in about three days after a man has sold his razor, Nature will get next to him, and if he is not as beardless as an American Indian, he will be convinced when he sees himself in a mirror, of the truth of the Darwinian theory." "In Russia," I said, "the beard is the patriarch's badge of sanctity."