In city after city I found school conditions like these, and in every case I found a little group of men and women opposing them, facing every handicap and humiliation. In two cities the soul and inspiration of this protest was a woman: Margaret Haley in Chicago, and Henrietta Rodman in New York. Henrietta took me in charge, and like Virgil with Dante, led me through the seven hells. She would gather a flock of teachers, and sit by while they told me their troubles in chorus. I counted upon Henrietta to read and revise this manuscript; but last spring she died, and all I can do is to tell about her, and pass on her brave and loving spirit to the future. Henrietta Rodman came of an old New York family, dating back some two hundred years. Her great-grandfather, Colonel Robert Blackwood, was a member of the First Continental Congress, and would have signed the Declaration of Independence if his death had not intervened. I think it would not be an exaggeration to say that this fighting Colonial ancestor kept Henrietta in the school system in New York. Many and many a time he put on his ruffles and his cocked hat, and drew his rusty old sword and stormed into the presence of boards of education and superintendents, or into the columns of capitalist newspapers—to prove that his great-grand-daughter was not a Bolshevik nor an alien enemy! Under the shadow of his revolutionary banner Henrietta fought for true Americanism, with the fangs of the Tammany tiger in her flesh. She was twenty-three years in the school system, yet she never lost her courage, her idealism, or her sense of humor. She was always full of energy, always pleading for the schools; to her pupils she was warm-hearted and loving, interested in new ideas, eager for new adventures. Her father had said to her: “Find the fundamental issue of your day, and concentrate on that.” The great-grandfather had chosen the issue of American independence; the father had chosen the issue of chattel-slavery; and Henrietta chose the issue of wage-slavery. She had been teaching Latin at Wadleigh High School, and found that ninety-four per cent of the pupils were being forced out because they could not pass the examinations. She proceeded to teach them so that they could pass; but it was against the rule to teach that way, and the principal sent for her and scolded her. She persisted in passing her pupils, and so the city superintendent sent for her; a teacher had no right to criticize her superiors, he declared, and flew into a passion. Suddenly a light leaped into Henrietta’s eyes, and the sword of the old revolutionary colonel swished over the superintendent’s head. “If you storm at me like a primitive man I’ll shriek like a primitive woman!” So at once the superintendent calmed down!