Though the Italians have brought charming _festas_ into our city streets, it was not until I admired the decorations that enhance the picturesque streets of Japan, and enjoyed the sight of the gay dancers on the boulevards of Paris on the day in July when the French celebrate, that it occurred to me that we might bring color and gayety to the streets—even the ugly streets—of New York. For years Henry Street has had its dance on the Fourth of July, and the city and citizens share in the preparation and expense. The asphalt is put in good condition (once, for the very special occasion of the settlement’s twentieth birthday, the city officials hastened a contemplated renewal of the asphalt); the street-cleaning department gives an extra late-afternoon cleaning and keeps a white uniformed sweeper on duty during the festivity; the police department loans the stanchions and the park department the rope; the Edison Company illuminates with generosity; from the tenements and the settlement houses hang the flags and the bunting streamers, and the neighbors—all of us together—pay for the band. Asphalt, when swept and cleaned, makes an admirable dancing floor, and to this street dance come all the neighbors and their friends. The children play games to the music in their roped-off section, the young people dance, and all are merry. The first year of the experiment the friendly captain of the precinct asked what protection was needed. We had courage and faith to request that no officer should be added to the regular man on the beat, and the good conduct of the five or six thousand who danced or were spectators entirely justified the faith and the courage. [Illustration: AN INCIDENT IN THE HISTORICAL PAGEANT ON HENRY STREET, COMMEMORATING THE TWENTIETH ANNIVERSARY OF THE SETTLEMENT] The protective legislation, the new terms in our vocabulary, and the dance on the street are but symbols of the acceptance by the community of its responsibility for protecting and nurturing its precious possession,—the youth of the city. CHAPTER XII WEDDINGS AND SOCIAL HALLS When we came to Henry Street, the appearance of a carriage before the door caused some commotion, and members of the settlement returning to the house would be met by excited little girls who announced, “You’s got a wedding by you. There’s a carriage there.” It was taken for granted in those days that nothing short of a wedding would justify such magnificence.