The station, in the shadow of the town, was much like other such stations. There was the usual donkey cart. Pompous officials bustled about and a few _carabinieri_ walked up and down, proud of their fuss and feathers. The _padre_ and _madre_ were there, and a throng of brothers and sisters and relatives, who greeted the travellers with noisy and affectionate salutations. Bessie's _madre_ held her at arm's length at first, as if to be sure that this fine _Signorina_ was really the little girl she left behind in New York twelve years ago. Ah, me! It was a love-hungry heart to which Bessie was pressed. And the boys! What pride shone on the father's face! Any father might be proud of them, and I was prouder than the father. "See what America does for your men!" I cried to a portly gentleman who stood beside us at the window, watching the interesting scene. He did not answer; for the train puffed and screeched, and the cars lurched as they were drawn around the curves. For a long time we could see the donkey cart piled high with baggage, the happy people following it. The train came closer and closer to the walls of that ancient town, and on its southern side we saw again the holes in the wall, swarms of little children, a gray, tired donkey and picturesque dirt and confusion. At sight of those holes in the wall, I repeated my remark. "See what America does for your men!" "Ah!" replied the gentleman, "you see only one side of it; the bright side. There is a dark side to emigration, as there is to an olive leaf. We have given you nearly two million of our best men, to do your dirty and dangerous work." "Yes," I replied; "but we pay them a decent wage; more wages in one year than you pay them in ten." It was this remark, the sight of those holes in the wall, and the vision of that six-room cottage in America, which set me to striking the balance for Italy, the country most affected by the good and ill of immigration. Italy has given to America for shorter or longer periods nearly two and one-half millions of men, for whose labour we have paid her a fair wage. At least two million dollars annually to every one of the provinces from which we have recruited this army of men. While not all the money will remain in Italy, most of it has already been invested in land. In 1906, there were at least 50,000 land sales made, and much of the land will become doubly productive as a result of the extreme care which will be given it by this landless class, which has suddenly gained its foothold. The rise in wages which is not far from sixty per cent. is a distinct benefit to the whole country; for a living wage means adequate consumption and increased production. While in some provinces there has been a dearth of labour, Italy is rather remarkable in that there is no danger of its being depopulated, and economically, the entire country is the gainer through emigration.