We propose that the farm shall gradually become a model in all respects. In fact, this year we will produce certified milk for the city and the contagious disease hospitals. We plan, as soon as possible, that the correction farm shall produce the meat, milk, vegetables and fruit, both fresh and canned, for the entire workhouse and the public hospitals, while the adjoining infirmary farm will render similar service for its own use and that of the growing tuberculosis sanatorium. From the standpoint of the prisoner, the farm policy is to give to each man the largest degree of liberty consistent with the well-being of others. The ultimate purpose is to employ as many without the walls as possibly can be trusted, and to employ out-of-doors within the walls all the remainder except those whose conduct imperatively demands closest supervision. For years there will be work for all workers, no “idle-house” in any sort of weather or trade conditions. Every working day from twelve to twenty men are sent to work on the adjoining infirmary farm. Such transfer was one of the purposes of placing the infirmary on a great contiguous tract of land. But the plan works to the detriment of the correction farm which for years and perhaps always can use to advantage the labor of all men committed to its care. No key is turned on these men during the day. The night guard and the locked door are more to remove temptation than to prevent escape. You realize this when you know that all these men, instead of sleeping in stuffy cells, sleep in large dormitories, giving them every facility for overpowering the night watch and making their escape. Prisoners arrive a typical bridewell company, drunken, dirty, diseased and discouraged. They go away bronzed, with regular habits of living, accustomed to work, with a new determination and a new grip. Of course some fail, and return. But we do not assume to insure immunity against all the wiles of the world, the flesh and the devil. Americans seem in constant search for a cure-all. There is a great demand for some hobby for the alert philanthropist to ride. In their order institutionalism, organized charity, juvenile courts, medical charities and country life have had their turn in the spot light. Each is efficient but all together are not sufficient. It is urged that if a convict be sent out under the blue sky to breathe God’s pure air, behold green fields and hear the birds sing from the swaying boughs he will become as one of the best citizens, especially if he digs in the dirt. But unfortunately the country does not afford the alchemy which converts men into angels. This is amply attested by the record of most diabolical crimes committed by country-bred men who would not know an elevator from a subway. The farm prison is no panacea, but it is tremendously worth while.