So now I sit on the deck of the steamer and watch the green and fertile country glide past. From time to time a signal flutters on the bank, the boat swings over and the crew rapidly loads great boxes of plums, luscious peaches, early pears, and crates of seedless grapes. Here comes a man with a truckload of magnificent Burbank plums. I once read of the little plum with the enormous pit, from which the California wizard evolved this beautiful fruit. He did not attempt to change the nature of the plum to that of some transcendental fruit. He simply modified the environment so that the inherent qualities of the plum might develop. Would that the environment of the little children of the slums and sweat shops, to whom the meanest cull that lies in yonder orchard would be a gracious treat, might be so modified as to give their essentially beautiful, natural qualities an opportunity for healthy, normal growth. I give a sigh of contentment and happiness as I realise that the hazardous journey is ended. And now I realise another fact. For weeks I have been free from colds or cough; my digestion is superior to that of an ostrich; a ten-mile jaunt with twenty pounds of baggage on my back would be mere child’s play. A more healthy human specimen than myself it would be hard to find, so I feel free to dismiss the spectre of tuberculosis along with the other horrors of the slums. But physical benefit is not the greatest gain. A change has taken place in my psychology. My belief in the inherent kindliness and unselfishness of the human heart has been strengthened. In cases of cruelty I recognise an outside influence or pressure that warps natural instincts. Toward the trainmen especially I am deeply grateful. When one realises the risks they ran to aid a couple of outcasts, and the kindness and consideration so often manifested, a wonderful appreciation of their sterling manhood is born. Never again will I think it necessary to change human nature before we can improve social conditions. I am conscious of a deeper human sympathy; a wider vision; a greater understanding of the problems of the under dog and a closer sense of fellowship with him. I feel that I am learning the divine lesson of human unity, which is rooted in the Fatherhood of God and manifests itself as the Brotherhood of Man. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES 1. Table of Contents added by transcriber. 2. Silently corrected typographical errors and variations in spelling. 3. Archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings retained as printed. 4. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_. End of Project Gutenberg's The Adventures of a Woman Hobo, by Ethel Lynn