And Mrs. Smith is thinking. The school for mothers has taught her to. Do you know that the number of children who survive the first year in good health is 71 per cent. in homes where the wage income is over 20s. a week and it drops to 51 per cent. in homes where the wage income is less than 20s. a week? The sociologists have also some very interesting figures that were compiled at Bradford. In 1911 the infant mortality rate there in houses that rented for six pounds and less was 163 in 1,000; house rent six to eight pounds, infant mortality, 128; house rent eight to twelve pounds, infant mortality, 123; house rent over twelve pounds, infant mortality, 88. And here in London infant mortality is over 200 per 1,000 in one-room tenements, as compared with 100 in tenements of four rooms and upwards. Now, Mrs. Smith, I don’t suppose, has ever seen those figures. But she doesn’t need to. She understands why the small white hearse goes so continuously up and down some streets. She knows perfectly well that there will be more light and air for her children in three or four rooms than in two. Also that the rent will cost her 9s. 6d. a week, where now she pays 4s. 6d. But in a factory there are women earning 25 and 30s. a week, and even up to two pounds a week. Mrs. Smith is thinking. THE MADONNA IN INDUSTRY Meanwhile over in France Azalie de Rigeaux, at half-past ten this morning, will step aside from the lathe where she turns fuses, to retire for say half-an-hour for another service. Azalie de Rigeaux is a munitions worker in trousers in a Usine le Guerre in a _banlieu_ of Paris. See her now as she takes her baby in her arms and seats herself in a low chair by a small crib. A wedding-ringed hand opens her working blouse from the throat downward, the black lines of the cloth fold away from her bosom, revealing in lovely contrast the white, satiny texture of her skin. And she, too, even as you, a mother anywhere in the world, smiles happily into her baby’s eyes as she holds him to her breast. It is a mother and child picture the like of which you will not find in any gallery of Europe. Azalie de Rigeaux, crooning softly here to her child, is a new figure in life, so new that she has not yet reached the canvas of even the modern masters in art. See just above the curve of her arm where rests the bay’s head, the armlet that she wears on her left sleeve. Embroidered on it is that sign of her national enlistment, a bursting bomb. It is important because it is the clue to the new picture. All over the world war has called the woman to the factory. And what shall she do with the baby? Well, the baby is so valuable that the state is not going to let it cry.