The soldier wounded in the war needs attention, needs all the care that can be bestowed upon him. The mothers need attention just as much. Without them there would be no soldiers--without them there could be no nation; and it is here that I think the governing class makes its greatest mistake. Its standard of values is so false that it has needed a great war, a horrible catastrophe of death and destruction, to make us understand how valuable an able-bodied man is. The war has made the worker appear to other classes as quite a new sort of man. Men whom rich people would never meet in private life are now in some ways treated as human beings, to be made much of and granted little attentions. It is not only right, it is the duty, of us all to give all the joy and happiness that is possible to the men who have made so great a sacrifice; but what I am anxious to point out is that if the well-to-do women who are so willing to give their services for the soldiers would but think a little, they would easily understand that it is of just as great importance that their sisters in the slums should receive some of this attention, some of this care. They should strive to bridge the great gulf which separates the condition of life enjoyed by the well-to-do woman from the comfortless condition of life, destitute of all the social amenities so necessary for the well-to-do, which the working-class woman must endure. No one connected with the upper classes (except that tiny handful of women who forsake their class and live amongst the people in social settlements) can have any idea of the very meagre comforts of life that the working women enjoy. And even the women who leave comfortable town and country houses to dwell amongst the poor cannot quite understand, because always their rooms are nicely kept, and furnished at least with the requisites of cleanliness and comfort. It is all so different with the tiny homes of the workers. We have got accustomed to thinking working people do not need the same conveniences of life as we do for ourselves. You may go through the length and breadth of the land and find that the vast majority of the homes in which working-class women are expected to bring up their children are just tiny congested places where rich people could never exist. I have seen racing stables and the homes of prize cattle nicely tiled, warmed, and ventilated. It is a marvel that the people who own these places do not understand that on their own estates human beings need at least the same amount of breathing space and sanitary arrangements as prize animals. I wish the great land-owners of Britain, the great merchant princes and manufacturers, could, day by day, have placed before their eyes pictures of the mean dwelling-places thought good enough as homes for the miners of Scotland--the notorious Colliers’ Rows. These are tenements of one floor, sometimes just two rooms for man, wife, and