<!doctype tei2 public "-//Library of Congress - Historical Collections (American Memory)//DTD ammem.dtd//EN" [<!entity % images system "lg11.ent"> %images;]><tei2><teiheader type="text" creator="American Memory, Library of Congress" status="new" date.created="9/12/95"><filedesc><titlestmt><title>AMRLG-LG11</title><title>Case studies of unemployment, compiled by the Unemployment Committee of the National Federation of Settlements, with an introd. by Helen Hall and a foreword by Paul U. Kellogg.  Edited by Marion Elderton:  a machine-readable transcription.</title><title>Collection:  The Coolidge Era and the Consumer Economy, 1921-1929; American Memory, Library of Congress.</title><resp><role>Selected and converted.</role><name>American Memory, Library of Congress.</name></resp></titlestmt><publicationstmt><p>Washington, 1995.</p><p>Preceding element provides place and date of transcription only.</p><p>This transcription intended to be 99.95% accurate.</p><p>For more information about this text and this American Memory collection, refer to accompanying matter.</p></publicationstmt><sourcedesc><lccn>31-08098 //r61</lccn><coll>General Collection, Library of Congress.</coll><copyright>Coryright status not determined.</copyright></sourcedesc></filedesc></teiheader><text type="publication"><front><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110001">001</controlpgno><printpgno></printpgno></pageinfo><div><p><stamped>THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 1800<lb>Class <handwritten>H D 572.1</handwritten><lb>Book <handwritten>L A 25</handwritten><lb>Copyright No <handwritten>Copy 2</handwritten><lb>COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT.</stamped></p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110002">002</controlpgno><printpgno></printpgno></pageinfo><p><handwritten>6-27-50</handwritten></p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110003">003</controlpgno><printpgno></printpgno></pageinfo><p><handwritten>&check;</handwritten><hi rend="smallcaps">Industrial Research Department<lb>Wharton School of Finance and Commerce<lb>University of Pennsylvania</hi><lb><hi rend="bold">RESEARCH STUDIES<lb>XII</hi><handwritten>&check;</handwritten><lb>CASE STUDIES OF UNEMPLOYMENT</p></div><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110004">004</controlpgno><printpgno></printpgno></pageinfo><div><head>LIST OF PUBLICATIONS OF THE INDUSTRIAL<lb>RESEARCH DEPARTMENT</head><list type="ordered"><item><p>I Earnings and Working Opportunity in the Upholstery Weavers&rsquo; Trade in 25 Plants in Philadelphia, by Anne Bezanson.  $2.50.</p></item><item><p>II Collective Bargaining Among Photo-Engravers in Philadelphia, by Charles Leese.  $2.50.</p></item><item><p>III Trends in Foundry Production in the Philadelphia Area, by Anne Bezanson and Robert Gray.  $1.50.</p></item><item><p>IV Significant Post-War Changes in the Full-Fashioned Hosiery Industry, by George W. Taylor.  $2.00.</p></item><item><p>V Earnings in Certain Standard Machine-Tool Occupations in Philadelphia, by H.L. Frain.  $1.50.</p></item><item><p>VI An Analysis of the Significance and Use of Help-Wanted Advertising in Philadelphia, by Anne Rezanson.  $2.00.</p></item><item><p>VII An Analysis of Production of Worsted Sales Yarn, by Alfred H. Williams, Martin A. Brumbaugh and Hiram S. Davis.  $2.50.</p></item><item><p>VIII The Future Movement of Iron Ore and Coal in Relation to the St. Lawrence Waterway, by Fayette S. Warner.  $3.00.</p></item><item><p>IX Group Incentives&mdash;Some Variations in the Use of Group Bonus and Gang Piece Work, by C.C. Balderston.  $2.50.</p></item><item><p>X Wage Methods and Selling Costs, by Anne Bezanson and Miriam Husscy.  $4.50.</p></item><item><p>XI Wages&mdash;A Means of Testing Their Adequacy, by Morris E. Leeds and C.C. Balderston.  $1.50</p></item></list></div><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110005">005</controlpgno><printpgno></printpgno></pageinfo><div type="idinfo"><p><handwritten>National Federation of Settlements and<lb>Neighborhood Centers.  Unemployment Committee.</handwritten><lb>CASE STUDIES OF UNEMPLOYMENT<lb>Compiled by the<lb>UNEMPLOYMENT COMMITTEE<lb>of the<lb>NATIONAL FEDERATION OF SETTLEMENTS.<lb>With an Introduction by<lb>HELEN HALL<handwritten>&check;</handwritten><lb><hi rend="italics">Chairman of the Committee</hi><lb>And a Foreword by<lb>PAUL U. KELLOGG<handwritten>&check;</handwritten><lb><hi rend="italics">Editor of &ldquo;The Survey&rdquo;</hi><lb>Edited by<lb>MARION ELDERTON<handwritten>&check;</handwritten><lb><hi rend="italics">Industrial Research Department<lb>University of Pennsylvania</hi>PHILADELPHIA<lb><hi rend="smallcaps">University of Pennsylvania Press</hi><lb>1931<lb><handwritten>Copy 2</handwritten></p></div><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110006">006</controlpgno><printpgno></printpgno></pageinfo><div><p><handwritten>HD 5724<lb>.N25<lb>Copy 2</handwritten><lb>Copyright, 1931,<lb>by the<lb><hi rend="smallcaps">University of Pennsylvania Press</hi><lb>Printed in the<lb><hi rend="smallcaps">United States of America</hi><lb><stamped>MAR 27 1931<handwritten>&check;</handwritten> R<lb>&copy;ClA 36136</stamped></p></div><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110007">007</controlpgno><printpgno>v</printpgno></pageinfo><div><head>FOREWORD<lb>By Paul U. Kellogg</head><p><handwritten>C.W.C. 22-IV-31 recat. EMP 25Jun59</handwritten></p><p>In this book, the settlements of the country offer for inspection the makeshift payroll of the unemployed&mdash;intimate loose-leaf records of what families turn in, humanly speaking, to take the place of their lost wages.</p><p>Something is seriously at fault with more than the bindings of American prosperity when blotted, inverted accounts like these drop out of its ledgers.  We could not bear to have happen to those near to us what is set down of these men, women and children.  Collectively we let them pass.  Yet nothing could be clearer than that neither the workings of a divine providence, nor the things which they have individually done or left undone, are at the bottom of their discomfiture.  The industrial arrangements which form the setting of these 150 case-stories are distinctly of modern and human contrivance, subject to change and control.  And by gathering evidence when production was in full swing, by singling out families dislodged through no fault of their own, by drawing them from all sorts of occupations and a wide range of industries, the Committee on Unemployment of the National Federation of Settlements has made an original and clarifying contribution to straight-seeing on the subject.  No such body of concrete cases, lifted from the industrial life of America the country over, has hitherto been available.  They make up a source book of intimate and objective materials.  Students of every facet of the complex problem will be indebted to these widespread observation posts.</p><p>In the nature of the case, however, the stories have yielded meaning to those who have gathered and analyzed them.  Clinch Calkins, in <hi rend="italics">Some Folks Won&apos;t Work,</hi> has <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110008">008</controlpgno><printpgno>vi</printpgno></pageinfo>interpreted how and why these breadwinners were laid off, what confronted them in the search for new jobs, what the resulting unemployment did to their families.  In introducing this volume, Helen Hall, director of University House, Philadelphia, and chairman of the national committee, brings the findings directly to bear on what can be done to overcome the three great hazards to consecutive livelihood revealed by the study.  She takes up the provisions we now assume will tide people over, weighs them, one after another, against the experiences of these families and, as never before, demolishes our assumptions as to their justice and sufficiency.  She goes further and marshals that experience affirmatively behind three practical lines of action.  To safeguard these households and others like them everywhere at the points where livelihood breaks down, &ldquo;we must make work steadier and more secure.  We must make re-employment swifter when men or women are laid off.  We must insure against want the families of breadwinners who seek work and cannot find it.&rdquo;</p><p>This, then, is the neighborhood&apos;s charge to industry.  In introducing these neighbors, Miss Hall has the gift of making us feel deeply with them as well as for them.  She understands; and she shares her insight with us.  And it is a healthy development that such a charge should come from a quarter so aware as the settlement houses of the &ldquo;run of life in our industrial districts.&rdquo;  Fifty years ago a group of young Oxford men, troubled by what they heard of the working people in the British centers, decided to go to live in the East End of London and learn of conditions at first hand.  Throughout the years since that start at Toynbee Hall, there has come from our settlements, here and abroad, that fresh incentive to action which springs from knowledge gathered at the source and bearing the stamp of experience.  In that half century, economic forces have thrown up our <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110009">009</controlpgno><printpgno>vii</printpgno></pageinfo>industrial cities, here in the United States, much as the winds of a desert country pile and sculpture its hills.  The neighborhood workers have shown us the lights and shadows, the personality and human contours of these masses.  They have shared in the social engineering by which we have sought to meet the huge stresses of urban growth.  They have borne a stimulating part in movements for health and protective labor legislation, for education and the arts.  And in their study of unemployment, they again offer the same vivid, first-hand promptings to constructive change.</p><p>I remember talking till midnight with an industrial leader in Cincinnati during last winter&apos;s business recession.  The flattening out of the mass production industries of the middle west had crippled the operations of all those establishments which supply parts or machinery to the big plants.  He was conscious of the distress among the families of discharged employees, but spoke also of another anguish, that of the executive like himself who saw his working force go to pieces.  He had fitted men and skills and aptitudes into a scheme of production, had concerted health and morale and efficiency.  Now it was slipping through his fingers and it would take months, if not years, to mobilize its like again and get back the old verve.  His sensitiveness to what was happening was a decided advance over that of managements whose concern was merely for their physical plants.  In truth, we would not think very highly of a manager who, after a shut-down, should start up with his roofs caved in, his wiring unstrung, his lathes and punches rusted, and his raw materials damaged.  And yet the counterpart of this deterioration is what we seem to look forward to as the normal course when it comes to the household establishments of our industrial centers.  Miss Hall epitomizes the handicaps with which wage-earners&rsquo; families confront life when the man at length finds re-employment&mdash;not in all cases, she points out, but in such numbers among the 150 households whose experience was analyzed that the trend is unmistakable.  They confront it <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110010">010</controlpgno><printpgno>viii</printpgno></pageinfo>with savings used up, with debts to friends and stores, with homes lost or with furniture and clothing and other equipments for living sadly in arrears, with health impaired, spirits broken and earning power depleted.</p><p>If we were to take a leaf out of the modest proposal of Dean Swift and organize a Society for Wasting Labor Power &amp; Gutting the Wage-Earning Market, it would promote exactly our present-day policies of irregular employment and would set its cap for an occasional cyclical depression.  But of course our capacities to produce and consume are only segments of life.  The settlements give us a moving picture which records, also, the less tangible effects of broken work.  They portray its social and spiritual devastation.  It is entirely conceivable that the open-minded employer will learn from these cases more about what unemployment exacts of families than he has gathered in twenty-five years of hiring and firing.  If the industrial neighborhoods of America did to the industrial establishments of America as they are done by, we should have a Coxey&apos;s army of business men marching on Washington.</p><p>None the less the picture shown by the settlements is not one of disaster&mdash;but of preventable misfortunes.  They depict not the unemployment of hard times, but the unemployment that goes with invention and industrial change.  These are films of our swift-moving American business caravan, and of its trail of household wreckage.  Clinch Calkins has made a stirring pageant of it in her book.  Here in this volume these case stories of family vicissitudes stand out like a train of covered wagons.</p><p>The charge upon us is to see to it that this waste of human resources, this denial of democratic opportunity, shall not become a fixed characteristic of our scheme of ordering the day&apos;s work.</p><p>Those who last winter pinned their faith on the presumption that here in the United States we were dealing with a local and temporary situation, due to the collapse of stock <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110011">011</controlpgno><printpgno>ix</printpgno></pageinfo>market speculation in the fall of 1992, had to recast their reckonings.  The industrial recession antedated that.  Gradually the American public has become conscious that, ten years and more after the peace, unemployment has become a world-wide problem.  This splayed-out view may prove as disserviceable as the narrow one if it negatives resourceful action.  In the United States we do not face the threat of revolution nor peer into those economic vacuums which the war left in Europe.  With our natural resources and scientific management, our detachment and iniative, ours is the responsibility to grapple with industrial problems with a freeness of hand that is denied our contemporaries.  Out of our strength we should find new ways.</p><p>And in taking on the commission it is well for us to make the distinction between strategy and tactics that the war correspondents taught us.  We should distinguish between the grand strategy of overcoming the causes of business depression (and its resulting mass unemployment) and the tactics of closing in on unemployment as a recurring and measurable risk of modern production.  Gold, trade cycles, war and waste, over-production, under-consumption, uneven distribution, tariffs, reparations, credit&mdash;these and a dozen other factors are singled out by economists in their search for the major causes of business depression.  We are told that our current &ldquo;hard-times&rdquo; lacked the customary premonitory signals.  However that may be, the economists, financiers and statesmen will spend much time in arriving at a universal formula; while a baffled and angry world shouts &ldquo;why?&rdquo;&mdash;and cures can be found on every bush.</p><p>Now the problem of unemployment as it is interpreted by the neighborhood workers of the United States, as it is confronted by all of us in our communities, is something more immediate and manageable than all this.  Something simpler, and something that cannot wait.  Nor, when it comes to tactics, is it something to be solved by bread lines, lodging houses or apple-selling.  Our organized relief work eases life where it hurts, yet our emergency funds offer no enduring <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110012">012</controlpgno><printpgno>x</printpgno></pageinfo>solution, nor do staggering jobs and passing unemployment around.</p><p>What we confront is practical problem of broken work and broken earnings.  It simmers down to the question of an everyday living to cover living every day.  Of how we can assure this minimum foothold for existence, or the opportunity to earn it, to every wage-earner in the richest country the world has ever known, rich in foods and raw materials, rich in productive powers and organizing abilities, such as make the denial of that minimum a ghastly joke.</p><p>We must make work steadier and more secure.</p><p>We must make re-employment swifter when men and women are laid off.</p><p>We must insure against want the families of breadwinners who seek work and cannot find it.</p><p>Sincerely prosecuted, those three lines of action put forward by the settlements would not solve the problem of cyclical unemployment or overcome its major causes.  But they would cut down the bulk of unemployment in good times and bad, and they would bring an orderly easement to wage-earning households which now bear the brunt of this recurring and measurable risk over which they have no control.</p><p>There are pluses and minuses in our approach to such a course of action in the United States.  We are in the north temperate zone; and while farmers, one generation after another, have worked out safeguards to tide them over the off-season, we have been slow to parallel their providence in our newer industrialism.  Yet the closed car and surfaced roads that make winter travel feasible, the refrigeration that brings us perishable foodstuffs in the heat of summer, show that we can get the best of climate when we set about it.</p><p>American industry expanded throughout decades when &ldquo;cheap&rdquo; immigrant labor crowded our industrial centers.  The war reversed this situation.  Immigration restriction and armies of young men thrown overseas brought about a labor <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110013">013</controlpgno><printpgno>xi</printpgno></pageinfo>shortage and brought in high wages which stuck.  But low interest rates in the post-war years encouraged capital investment in labor-saving machinery, and scientific management and campaigns for the elimination of waste bore in this same direction.  We have had ten thousand changes playing on our industrial set-up in ways which may increase the demand for labor in the long run, but which dislodge wage-earners right and left.</p><p>The Hoover Report on Recent Economic Changes (1929) showed that in our most prosperous years we had a body of one million unemployed.  Their personnel might change, but their persistence was unmistakable.  Swelling their numbers were other characteristic developments of the decade:  mutations in style and market demands; the spread of new inventions and utilities that crowd out old lines; mergers and migrations of industries, south and west; the introduction of mass production which engages men in great teams and throws the whole team out of gear&mdash;and out of employment, out of earning and spending&mdash;when the demand is down; our new mushrooming industries which crystallize a scientific discovery into a marketable commodity, suck in a great body of workers and leave them floundering when the market slumps.</p><p>These and kindred factors are illuminated by the settlement study.  They are brought down to their end-results in small units of human predicament and distress.  We have it driven home to us that the same kind of genius, the same bent for applying science, the same gifts for organization that create these new industrial formations, which are so envied overseas and which send our products across the map of the world, can and should be applied to steadying work, to distributing work and workers, to giving a greater measure of protection to the wage-earning families dependent upon that work.  Unless we so apply them, there is a false bottom to our industrial progress, a fault undermining both our economic and political structures which will bring them <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110014">014</controlpgno><printpgno>xii</printpgno></pageinfo>down, a ruthless hypocrisy to our pretensions as a country of opportunity and right feeling.</p><p>Alongside the humanitarian impulse and the democratic challenge of such observers as the neighborhood workers can be laid a new force working for change&mdash;a consciousness on the part of business leaders of the importance of the wage-earning market as something with which we cannot play fast and loose if it is to be the drive wheel of our prosperity.  The old adage has come back to us in terms of modern industry: working time is spending money.  We are beginning to realize that wages must have three dimensions if we would prosper.</p><p>Since the turn of the century, some of our greatest employing corporations have learned that wages may be high and yet labor costs can be kept low through scientific management.  They have thrown over the idea that an &ldquo;easy labor market&rdquo; is a good thing, with a hundred men clamoring at the mill gate, and with fear of losing one&apos;s job as the chief motive power for effort.  They have discovered and utilized new incentives and they have come to recognize that high wages mean more purchasers for autos, radios, refrigerators, pianos, sewing machines, houses, clothes.  Henry Ford with his pre-war $5 a day wage anticipated this change, but has pinned his faith to that one dimension.</p><p>More and more of our progressive employers have learned that wages should be long as well as high.  Soap-makers, hat-makers, date packers and shoe-makers, paper manufacturers, machine builders and others have regularized irregular production to the benefit of their employees, their output and their profits.  The story of their demonstrations makes one of the most colorful chapters in the history of American management.</p><p>And some of our cities and states, last winter and this, have awakened to the fact that wages must not only be high and long&mdash;they must be broad; that good pay is not enough if it is broken down by part-time or cut short by a lay-off; that steady work by a few firms is not enough if the general <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110015">015</controlpgno><printpgno>xiii</printpgno></pageinfo>run of local industries are disheveled; that high wages and long wages must be spread broadly over a whole district if that district would thrive.  Cincinnati, Dayton, Philadelphia, Rochester, Indianapolis and other cities have risen to this conception which would lift steady work to the level of health and education as a subject for civic action.  New York, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Illinois and California have taken the lead in setting up state committees to explore the possibilities of employment-planning in the same way that we lay out our highways and conserve our water power.  They are spreading the conviction that wages must have lenght and breadth as well as thickness if we expect them to hold up a home, sustain a community and help assure us continued business prosperity.</p><p>To our natural resources, then, and our instigative ability are added these new incentives which will carry America far once we set out to mend broken work and broken earnings.  We are making a belated start.  We lack unemployment statistics&mdash;a steady stream of factual knowledge as basis for planning.  We let our wartime federal employment service shrivel up and even the pressure of last winter&apos;s need failed to pass Senator Wagner&apos;s bill to rehabilitate it.  We have blocked out procedures for projecting public works, but measures to this end slept at Washington throughout nearly a decade of prosperity.  Neither the federal government nor the states and cities were prepared to act in the current emergency.  We have seen individual American employers, and even more convincingly, in the garment trades, labor unions and employers in conjunction, demonstrate the praticability of unemployment insurance.  One of our largest employing corporations has inaugurated it this winter, but no American state has ventured to adopt such a system.  Rather, in public discussion, the shortcomings of the European systems are dilated upon without understanding.  They are regarded as outlandish in ways that would not be true <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110016">016</controlpgno><printpgno>xiv</printpgno></pageinfo>of the imported models of a new type of gas engine or the sketchy outlines of some scientific discovery in a foreign laboratory.</p><p>Now, while we have the worst unemployment statistics in the world, Professor Paul H. Douglas, organizing director of the Swarthmore Institute of Unemployment, has pointed out that we have exceptional employment statistics, ranging over the years, which would serve us in rating industries and plants within each industry according to the regularity of their operations.  It is conceivable that an American program of unemployment insurance might be organized by industries and geared to these rates, so that, as in neither the British nor the German system, lowered premiums would go with a record of steady work the year round.  As a consequence, there would be economic pressure at the elbow of every management to diminish irregular employment.  As things stand now, the pressure is the other way; to pare down a payroll is the easiest, if most shortsighted, line of business retrenchment.  While we have been the last of the great industrial nations to apply the insurance principle to unemployment, we might easily, under its spur, be first in prevention; for in stabilization enginering American initiative would find a congenial field.  Moreover, our experience with mutual insurance, joint funds, employment reserves and the dismissal wage, with mothers&rsquo; pensions, workmen&apos;s compensation and work relief, with scientific management, industrial psychiatry and the modern techniques of our personnel departments, would bring fresh elements into an American program should we link a modernized system of employment services with unemployment insurance.</p><p>Entering into all this procrastination, so at odds with our national temper, has been a psychological drag that has its roots also in our history as a people.  We still hold to the imagery of pioneer day when we look through the smoke of our cities.  We count on each man to shoulder his own misfortunes.  We forget our rebel tradition toward mifortunes which are handed down to us.  We preach a robust <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110017">017</controlpgno><printpgno>xv</printpgno></pageinfo>individualism that does not reckon with the fact that sturdy legs need solid ground to stand on.  It takes a wrench of our imaginations to regard idustrial unemployment as something that concerns more than the self-dependence of the individual wage-earner.  It concerns the self-dependence and self-respect of American industry in carrying its own risks.</p><p>These case-stories of the settlements lay bare the back-breaking effects of industrial change now borne by those least able to sustain them.  They uncover also some of our great anomalies:</p><p>&mdash;We squeeze each ounce of worth out of a carcass or a tree; we draw each stir of power from a ton of coal; but we fail to devise plans by which such desirable efficiencies and skills, such tangible bundless of productive energy as unemployed men and women have to offer, can be marketed without losses such as no business could stand without going bankrupt.</p><p>&mdash;We dovetail the wage-earner into a vast mechanism of production, beginning with his foreman and the bench at which he works, and ranging through huge contrivances of machines, power plants, shipping offices, banking and commercial ramifications.  But as an unemployed man, we leave him with this bare hands and shoe-leather.</p><p>&mdash;We count it corporate forethought when a great industry lays by reserves in good times in order to stabilize the dividends it wishes to pay its stockholders in bad times; but only a handful of establishments have tried out employment reserves to stabilize the incomes of their employees.</p><p>&mdash;We insure every risk from a plate-glass window to the education of our grandchildren, but balk at the idea when it comes to any share of the unwritten payroll of the unemployed.</p><p>&mdash;We have instalment buying, and all manner of new credit schemes by which, as consumers, wage-earning house-holders may mortgage their incomes for months ahead, but nothing commensurate to give them any security in that income.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110018">018</controlpgno><printpgno>xvi</printpgno></pageinfo><p>&mdash;&ldquo;We recognize,&rdquo; as Miss Hall points out, &ldquo;that the regularization of industry cannot be carried out by the man whom it most directly affects.  We put that up to management.  But we assume that by some miracle he and his family can underwrite the irregularities of industry.&rdquo;</p><p>In driving home the human impact of this thing which we have tolerated in American life, the neighborhood workers of the United States are carrying forward that living tradition of awareness and proposal which began half a century ago at Toynbee Hall.  And I am tempted to set down here&mdash;though I have told it elsewhere&mdash;the story of an encounter with Canon Barnett, the founder of Toynbee Hall, which bears directly on the present service of the settlements to our times.</p><p>I had spent the better part of 1908 with the staff of the Pittsburgh Survey in appraising life and labor in the American steel district.  We turned to German and British steel districts for comparisons with Pittsburgh&mdash;Pittsburgh with its youth and energy, its great tools, fierce heats and amazing production, its laboratories and libraries and art museums.  But also a Pittsburgh whose workers were, many of them, shamefully housed, which lagged in its application of science to health, which was working vast numbers of men twelve hours a day and seven days a week, which had all but relinquished every vestige of self-government in the ordering of its work.  The unions had never regained the footing they lost in the Homestead strike of the &lsquo;90s, and spy systems and unlimited supplies of cheap immigrant labor gave the great employing corporations the upper hand.  The American steel district was run from the top and still is.  In her inductive study of <hi rend="italics">Work Accidents and the Law,</hi> Crystal Eastman smashed two stereotypes with which we were confronted at the start&mdash;the myth that 97 per cent of such accidents were caused by the carelessness of the men, and that other myth that they were all due to the ruthlessness <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110019">019</controlpgno><printpgno>xvii</printpgno></pageinfo>of the employers.  But the stark realities we found, beginning at the coroner&apos;s office and working back to the remotest streets of the mill towns, were these:  In twelve months, 500 men had gone to their deaths at their work in the mines and mills and railways of that one American county and nine-tenths of the income loss stayed where it first fell, on the households of the workmen killed.  Pittsburgh stood for initiative, but at cost of old liberties and young lives.</p><p>In Germany that summer I was to see factory rooms filled with imported machines, the outcrop of American inventiveness.  These American machines were plastered with German safety-devices to make good American neglect.  Those safety devices had few counterparts in the United States.  The men at the machines were protected by insurance against accidents at their work such as no American state then afforded.  And in the great steel center at Essen, I was to come upon housing colonies and commissaries, accident and sickness compensation and old-age pensions&mdash;all manner of schemes that conserved life of which Pittsburgh was so spendthrift.  For as the Krupps saw it, their industry was the loser if they took a farmhand and trained him as a factory worker, and he were incapacitated in his prime.  But here in Essen also everything was run from the top; the workers were fast in a ponderous mesh of paternalism, only less rigid than the military hierarchy to which it was cousin.  It was a relief to get away to D&uuml;sseldorf, where the municipality had done things on its own since Beethoven, so legend has it, was the town bandmaster; and it was a deliverance to get across the Channel and feel the tang of British liberty.</p><p>By chance my first day in England was spent in Canterbury.  There, the night of my arrival, I encountered the &ldquo;hunger-marchers&rdquo; who had come down from London to try to exercise an ancient right and hold a meeting in the nave of the old cathedral.  So doing, they would knock with their bare knuckles on the heart of England.  I asked two or three of their leaders to join me next morning at the old inn at which I was lodged.  They themselves passed the <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110020">020</controlpgno><printpgno>xviii</printpgno></pageinfo>night in the workhouse, and before we could go in to breakfast next morning at the inn, we had to spend a nimble half hour together in the bathroom picking off cooties and such that had attached themselves to the demonstration.  That seemed to be the extent of the contribution of the government of the day to the problems of the unemployed.  The chief of the hunger-marchers was an accentric Scotch attorney, his lieutenant an elderly anti-machinist who had draped around his neck a green curtain cord with which he proposed to hang the &ldquo;husband of the king&apos;s big sister.&rdquo;  They and their followers were unmolested in their agitation.  Such was British freedom; and it was to stand up to the war tensions far better than our own.</p><p>All England was suffering twenty years ago from business depression and thousands of men were out of work.  Every morning, I was told, they fished out of the Thames the bodies of working people who had given up the struggle to find jobs and thrown themselves from the embankment.  Here, also, something was out of gear in the scheme of life and labor.  I was baffled, and the preacher I heard at St. Paul&apos;s the following Sunday gave me no help.  To his dour mind, the social unrest was a wildfire to be stamped out for God and country.  But that afternoon at Westminster Abbey I heard a sermon of a different sort; and afterward, in a study off a quiet quadrangle, I sought out the white-haired dean who had spoken.  This was Canon Barnett, who in his youth had led those young Oxford men to the East End of London half a century ago.  Today there is a bronze plaque to his memory in the shrine of the great dead, a bas-relief that bears the inscription, &ldquo;Fear not to scatter the seed because of the birds.&rdquo;</p><p>I told him of the zest and youthful energy, the ruthlessness toward life, the denial of democracy in Pittsburgh; of the conservation of health and strength coupled with the negation of self-control in Essen; of the hunger-marchers and the freedom which had become liberty to starve on his side of the Channel.  Even now I can see Canon Barnett&apos;s <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110021">021</controlpgno><printpgno>xix</printpgno></pageinfo>face and hear his quite speech in answer.  It was as if he held a crystal in his hand and read meaning from its troubled depths.  He pointed out that England in the old time had finely ordered the business of life, with liberty and self-dependence ingrained therein; but all this had been caught in the grappling mechanisms of the Industrial Revolution.  These were taking generation after generation of English youths, squeezing them for what they had to give, throwing them aside.  Theirs had become a &ldquo;scrap-heap civilization.&rdquo;  Somehow or other, he said, England must work out a new balance between liberty and life.  So must the rest of us.  Germany had not found the answer under her autocratic arrangements, nor had we in America in our impetuous foray into industrialism.</p><p>In the twenty years since my talk with Canon Barnett we have made advances in Pittsburgh and in industrial America.  Especially have we grappled with the hazard of work accidents.  Through our safety engineering we have cut down their number and today the whole state of Pennsylvania has not such a toll of death at work as that one county had then.  In state after state we have adopted workmen&apos;s compensation laws by which some part of the human wear and tear is made a charge on industry.  Through insurance we have spread its cost out to the consumers so that with every yard of cloth or ton of coal or mile of railroad travel we buy, we pay a bit in order that the burden of this risk shall not come down solely on the home of the killed and injured worker.  We make such deaths and injuries more costly to those who can prevent them.</p><p>In the same twenty years, with respect to the hazard of broken work, England, Germany and a score of other nations have devised schemes of unemployment insurance.  Out of the insecurity of their neighbors the settlements have framed a human presentment not to accuse us, but to deepen our understanding and spur us to action.  They put before us the people we disregarded&mdash;the people who dropped through the fissures of our prosperity.  Disregarding them, <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110022">022</controlpgno><printpgno>xx</printpgno></pageinfo>we were blind also to what those fissures should have warned us&mdash;until the whole groundwork of our economic life crushed and buckled like the floor of an ice jam, upending the fortunes of people who had thought of themselves as altogether secure.  In 1929, &lsquo;30, &lsquo;31, we have had a swift measure of what was desperately wanting in our mechanistic civilization.</p><p>Out of these months of failure and misery, can a new generation catch the vision of liberating our modern life from this threat to the very footholds of democracy?  Can we see that we are close to our time for deciding whether there is something for Americans to strive for other than a spasmodic and ill-apportioned materialism?  Can we see that inasmuch as we think throug our responsibilities toward the least of these men and women we begin to think through our future as a people?</p></div><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110023">023</controlpgno><printpgno>xxi</printpgno></pageinfo><div type="toc"><head>CONTENTS</head><list type="ordered"><item><p>FOREWORD, by Paul U. Kellogg<hsep>v</p></item><item><p>INTRODUCING OUR NEIGHBORS, by Helen Hall<hsep>xxiii</p></item><item><p>150 CASE STUDIES OF UNEMPLOYMENT<hsep>1-371</p></item><item><p>RECAPITULATION</p></item><item><p>I Roster of Case Studies<hsep>372</p></item><item><p>II Causes of Unemployment<hsep>379</p></item><item><p>III Re-employment<hsep>379</p></item><item><p>IV Economic Effects<hsep>380</p></item><item><p>V Physical Effects<hsep>381</p></item><item><p>VI Psychological Effects<hsep>382</p></item><item><p>VII Effects on Children and Future Plans<hsep>383</p></item><item><p>APPENDICES</p></item><item><p>A Prize Essays<hsep>385</p></item><item><p>B Unemployment Committee of the National Federation of Settlements<hsep>401</p></item><item><p>C Settlements and other Organizations Co-operating<hsep>403</p></item><item><p>D Form of Questionnaire<hsep>409</p></item><item><p>INDEX<hsep>415</p></item></list></div><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110024">024</controlpgno><printpgno>xxiii</printpgno></pageinfo><div><head>INTRODUCING OUR NEIGHBORS<lb>By Helen Hall</head><div><head>I</head><p>There is nothing abstract or intangible about our nextdoor neighbor; when he is out of a job, the settlement knows it.  We see him go out in the early morning, looking for work, and come home at noon.  We can tell by the set of his shoulders whether he has found it.  We share the throes of the corner grocer when, to save himself, he has to stop credit to old customers who cannot pay.  We help grandmothers scurry around for cleaning jobs when the younger generation is not bringing enough in.  And there is always the man in the hall, twisting his hat as he tells his story, who has come to us for help in his search for work.</p><p>It was these neighbors of ours, then, who started the unemployment study of the National Federation of Settlements in which over a hundred neighborhood houses collaborated.  In the 150 cases presented here, which are fewer than half of the schedules turned in, we have tried to let these neighbors tell their own stories so that others who are further removed from the run of life in our industrial districts may see, as we do, through the abstract economic problem of unemployment to the realities that lie behind it.  For the settlements know families not merely when they are in trouble.  We live beside them in good fortune and bad, consecutively throughout the years, and can compare their normal standards with what unemployment brings them to.  Experience has taught us to recognize broken work not merely as a symptom of financial crises, but as a recurring fault of modern production.  We are confronted by unemployment, not as a single episode in the history of a household, but as <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110025">025</controlpgno><printpgno>xxiv</printpgno></pageinfo>something that may come again and again, impeding and stopping the normal development of the family.</p><div><head>The People Concerned</head><p>Our study is in no sense statistical.  Rather this is a budgeting of testimony, in which the very variety of the witnesses summoned has been an advantage.  They offer to the student cross-sections of human experience where unemployment is due to industrial rather than individual causes.  They do not include families where strikes, sickness, habits or other personal factors were dominant, but only those where the breadwinner was thrown out of work through some change in industrial operations over which he had no control.</p><p>Practically all the wage-earners studied had had good work records.  The majority had been for a long time with one firm, in several cases twenty years.  They include men and women, old and young, native-born and immigrant; skilled, semi-skilled, unskilled.  Over half of the families had been two generations in this country, and over half of the workers had trades or special aptitudes that had lifted them above the level of common labor.  Run down the first few cases and you will get the range of occupations affected.  You will find among them:  bricklayer, bricklayer&apos;s helper, miner, painter, waiter, calenderer, factory hand, pipe-cutter, plumber, textile worker, dispatcher in a department store, milkman and manager of a sugar plantation.</p><p>The experiences are drawn from the tenements of New York and the textile districts of Philadelphia, from the automobile center at Detroit, the stockyards of Chicago, and the valleys of the Pittsburgh steel district&mdash;altogether they come out of neighborhoods in thirty-two cities in twenty-one states.</p><p>In approaching unemployment, we began with its results in the home, yet it was inevitable that the study should work back to the forces that throw men out of work.  Illustrations will be found of seasonal changes, of mechanization and the various other forms of technological unemployment, of <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110026">026</controlpgno><printpgno>xxv</printpgno></pageinfo>style and market changes and the general run of business vicissitudes.</p><p>The cases were not gathered during the business recession which, in the United States, followed the stock market crash of the fall of 1929 and which is now recognized as contemporaneous with world-wide unemployment.  They were gathered in the &ldquo;prosperous&rdquo; months that preceded it and exhibit the risks which will be faced by American wage-earners when business is brought back to &ldquo;usual.&rdquo;</p><p>Our findings, then, throw light on the problem of unemployment as it confronts us in the United States in normal times.  They have been interpreted to the wider public with keenness and charm by Clinch Calkins in <hi rend="italics">Some Folks Won&apos;t Work.</hi><anchor id="N026-01">1</anchor>  Here are the cases themselves for those who would make closer acquaintance with these intimate human dramas or turn to original sources for their studies and judgments.</p><note anchor.ids="N026-01" place="bottom">1 Harcourt, Brace &amp; Co., New York, 1930.</note></div><div><head>Neighborhood Settings</head><p>It is not as isolated stories that these dramas present themselves in settlement work.  They interlace in the pattern of neighborhood life.  And it will perhaps help the reader to visualize them in their community settings if, in introducing them, I draw on our experiences at University House in Philadelphia, where we are at home among rows of little red brick houses, with white doorsteps, many of them set along cobbled alleys.  We are hard by the Schuylkill River and the Baltimore &amp; Ohio Railroad; Irish for the most part, enough so to make the Irish folk plays the feature of the year&apos;s dramatic work; but with Negroes coming in and a sprinkling of old American stock.  The clergy and the politicians are our gentry.  Park guards and policemen give style to our middle classes, and their steady income is the envy of the icemen, truckmen, and construction workers who, with seasonal employment always around the corner, are so often our poor.</p><p>There is a large representation of factory employees, tex <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110027">027</controlpgno><printpgno>xxvi</printpgno></pageinfo>tile hands, foundrymen, and workers in the general mechanical trades for which the Philadelphia district is famous.  We have seen old crafts go out, as in glass blowing, and long-established callings give way before market changes, as in textiles.  We know what it is for machinery to dislodge men and women and for style changes to put them on the street.  Business vicissitudes, market irregularities and seasonal demands invariably interrupt the housekeeping behind the brick rows.  There are families who for years have been able to tide themselves over times of slackness, but seemingly those periods have been growing longer and more frequent and the families less able to see themselves through.</p><p>We like to feel that no neighbor knocks in vain at the settlement door, but when Mrs. McNary comes saying, &ldquo;Could you find me office work?  My husband&apos;s been laid off three months now,&rdquo; we feel almost as helpless as Mrs. McNary.  To her kind, office work means scrubbing floors at night, but there are so many of her kind.  These knockings reach a crescendo in years of business depression such as this winter and last; none the less, the winter before last and the winter before that, years of apparent prosperity, they were insistent&mdash;and the responses we have made to them all along have raised questions in our minds that are still unanswered.  We know that the milk we may be able to supply for the babies, and the loans we make now and again, are pitiful makeshifts when what the breadwinner of the family need is a job.  In our neighborhood speech, when a family gets behind in rent, the constable is &ldquo;put on them.&rdquo;  We try to hold him off while we call up employers, only to be met with the reply, &ldquo;We&apos;re turning people off, not taking them on.&rdquo;  We try private employment agencies, the public ones failing help, generally to be told that a deposit must be made first and that there is such a long waiting list there&apos;s very little hope, anyway.  I  have in mind a household of fourteen, where at one time four grown men were out of work and the only ones to bring anything in were the <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110028">028</controlpgno><printpgno>xxvii</printpgno></pageinfo>mother, who scrubbed offices, and one young boy, who ran errands.</p><p>At our Mothers&rsquo; Club the members take us aside to see if we can suggest something that can be done.  We miss a neighbor of long standing.  When pressed for a reason, she explains that she cannot meet the club dues of ten cents a month because her husband is out of work.  From our clinics come the same stories of people not able to pay small fees because they are out of work.  When employment is scarce, old women come searching for jobs, trying once more to shoulder the burden of rent and grocery bills.</p><p>&ldquo;Sadie&apos;s out of work and Tom&apos;s out of work, and my daughter&apos;s husband can&apos;t get a job nowhere, so I thought I&apos;d try to get something to do.&rdquo;</p><p>&ldquo;But, Mrs. Givan, I&apos;m afraid you aren&apos;t strong enough.&rdquo;</p><p>&ldquo;Oh, yes,&rdquo; she says, straightening up, &ldquo;I&apos;m stronger than you&apos;d think to look at me.&rdquo;</p><p>And it is not merely the people on the fringes of health and efficiency that suffer.  Wage-earners who have no special training are the first to be dislodged and the most difficult to place.  But what of the skilled mechanics?   Throughout the decade following the war the remark was often heard that in these days a good workman need never be out of a job.  Two years ago this comfortable generalization was thrown out for discussion at our Mothers&rsquo; Club.  &ldquo;My husband&apos;s an electrician and he&apos;s been out of work three months.  He got a job for a week, then got laid off.&rdquo;  &ldquo;My husband&apos;s a granite cutter and he was out during the summer and that&apos;s the busy time.&rdquo;  The replies came so fast they formed a protesting chorus.</p><p>Those opportunities which we like to feel modern America holds out to its boys and girls are limited when &ldquo;Father&apos;s out of work.&rdquo;  To help take his place, young people with plans for high school abandon them and start looking for work.  They are &ldquo;ashamed all the time&rdquo;  if they haven&apos;t a job, no matter how hard they my be hunting for one.   We know this to be true because we watch them change, <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110029">029</controlpgno><printpgno>xxviii</printpgno></pageinfo>Four boys in a dramatic club of twenty members were out of work all one winter.  At every turn unemployment dulls the forces which the settlement seeks to release in  neighborhood life.</p></div><div><head>The Settlement Study</head><p>Because of this constant knocking at our doors, the National Federation of Settlements, meeting in Boston in the spring of 1928, appointed a committee to study the effects of unemployment on home and neighborhood life.  A report made by the Chicago Federation of Settlements told of unemployment as they had experienced it that winter in  Chicago.  Against the old contrast of wealth and poverty, they were among the first to draw the new contrast of speeded-up production and enforeced idleness.  Scientific managers and insurance experts had been asked to join in the discussion at Boston.  These urged the importance of the particular kind of testimony which settlements were in position to give.</p><p>The Unemployed Committee of the Federation sent out its schedules in the winter of 1928-1929.  Back of each of the cases turned in by the co&ouml;perating agencies ranged other cases in their neighborhoods and back of those neighborhoods ranged the general fortunes of the cities of which they are a part.  With the winter of 1929-1930, unemployment was to cut deep into our industrial districts.  In the months since, it has cramped the household life and wrecked the purchasing power of hundreds of thousands of American wage-earners.  The situation bore especilly heavily on communities dependent upon the new mass production industries, and we made a swift canvas in January, 1930, of conditions in the Michigan automobile center and, in less detail, in districts throughout the middle west which supply parts, tools and raw materials.<anchor id="N029-01">2</anchor>  In Detroit alone 150,000 men and woman were out of work and half a million dollars monthly was being dispensed by the municipality throughout<note anchor.ids="N029-01" place="bottom">2 <hi rend="italics">See Helen Hall, &ldquo;When Detroit&apos;s Out of Gear.&rdquo; Survey Graphic, April, 1929; also included in Some Folks Won&apos;t Work.</hi></note><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110030">030</controlpgno><printpgno>xxix</printpgno></pageinfo>the winter.  In Philadelphia, more representative of the country as a whole, a survey made by the Department of Industrial Research of the University of Pennsylvania showed 140,000 people to be out of work.  This was 40 per cent over the previous spring and the largest relief agency in the city was unable to take on the burden of helping families whose distress was due to unemployment.</p><p>The settlements, which had set out on the study at a time when the public seemed wholly indifferent to unemployment, found themselves, last winter and this, in the midst of a general emergency.  But the significance of this study, and of the cases in this book, is that they are a measure, not of what rouses our American communities to action in bad times, but of what for the most part they are blind to when times are &ldquo;good.&rdquo;</p></div></div><div><head>II</head><p>To focus our study on the effects of unemployment, we divided our schedule<anchor id="N030-01">3</anchor> into four parts and asked the entries be made in each case on the pages set aside for economic, physical, psychological effects, and the cumulative results of all these on the future of the family.  The headings were not rigid categories.  They naturally overlapped.  There were no neat box-like compartments leading up to tabulation, for our families were, after all, but samples.  We were not after sociological analyses or studies in case treatment.  But the schedule as a whole, and the freely written summary with which many of them closed, gave a realistic picture of the family as a going concern, or rather as an interrupted one.  The 150 cases here presented are in some instances these original summaries; in others, a condensation of all the materials sent.  Though our four-ply headings overlapped, as they do in life, none the less they afforded a rough diagnosis of the consequences in each case.  Recurring items took on<note anchor.ids="N030-01" place="bottom">3 See copy of schedules used, page 409.</note><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110031">031</controlpgno><printpgno>xxx</printpgno></pageinfo>significance as common traits.  Clues  to these will be found in Miss Elderton&apos;s recapitulations on pages 379-383.</p><div><head>Economic and Physical Effects</head><p>As the cases came in, we were struck by certain sequences.  Mrs. Nelson&apos;s<anchor id="N031-01">4</anchor> first analysis brought out a reiterated experience:  first, broken work; then a steady degradation of the kind of work, until the casual labor level was reached.  We found mechanics, cabinet-makers, shoe-makers and the rest dropping down to the ranks of dock workers, truck drivers, janitors, watchmen, street cleaners, and snow shovelers.  Their former skills only made them misfits at manual labor.  We soon read of further deterioration caused by accidents, overstrain, and exposure undergone in their new work.</p><note anchor.ids="N031-01" place="bottom">4 <hi rend="italics">Irene Hickok Nelson, Secretary of the Unemployment Committee&mdash;National Federation of Settlements.</hi></note><p>The immediate economic effect at every stage in this sequence is reduced earnings.  Its eventual effect is diminished earning power.  No attempt was made to tally the loss in wages suffered by the 150 families whose stories appear in this book.  Yet in the course of a single year the total must have run over a hundred thousand dollars.  The butcher, the baker, the business and professional groups of their communities were affected by this drain which undermined the household structure of the families themselves.</p><p>In the economic makeshifts resorted to, we found families following much the same lines.  First, cash savings are used up; insurance policies lapse; jewelry and furniture are pawned; furniture is sold.  Meanwhile, come bills at the grocer&apos;s, moves to poorer quarters, and what means most in discouragement to the family, the loss of a house partly paid for.  All along this line of march the mother is generally working or looking for work, and the family often living on a semi-starvation diet.</p><p>There is also much similarity in the sequence of physical effects.  Pared-down food and scant clothing, unheated and sunless rooms at home, exposure in the search for jobs and <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110032">032</controlpgno><printpgno>xxxi</printpgno></pageinfo>other untoward circumstances wear away the family&apos;s resistance.  In a fourth of the cases the effects of malnutrition were obvious enough to be noted by a layman.  In those frequent instances where the mother went out to work, the wage-earning burden, combined with worry and undernourishment, overtaxed her physical strength and nervous energy.  Underweight, stunted growth, anemia, and rickets recur again and again among the entries.  There is the sequence of colds, pneumonia, tuberculosis.  Repeatedly is it noted that the families go without needed medical treatment, that teeth are neglected and necessary operations postponed.  Babies are born only to die because of insufficient food and the exhaustion of the mother.</p><p>These effects are interpreted at length in Miss Calkins&rsquo; book; but there I should like to emphasize the economic and physical handicaps with which such families face life when the man at length finds re-employment&mdash;not in all cases, of course, but in such numbers that the trend is unmistakable.  They face it with savings used up, with debts to friends and the stores, with homes lost or with furniture and clothing and other equipment for living sadly in arrears, with health impaired, spirits broken and earning power depleted.</p></div><div><head>Effects on the Spirit</head><p>It is when we turn to the psychological effects that we appreciate the drag of these things on the family as a potentially resourceful and joyous group.  Here we see most clearly results that are irremediable.  It is here also that we find the greatest divergence, for it is here that the human equation shows itself most variable.  Only the most sturdy of our families have come through with nothing more than their economic situation impaired.  Their course throws light on the process by which the unemployed men of today become unemployable tomorrow.  If you have been hungry, you may build up when you get food.  But your whole outlook on life changes when you have been discouraged too often or too long.  Chance remarks register this disintegration. <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110033">033</controlpgno><printpgno>xxxii</printpgno></pageinfo>&ldquo;It ain&apos;t any good starting saving again.&rdquo;  &ldquo;We&apos;ve got in so deep I guess we&apos;ll never try to get out.&rdquo;</p><p>Insanity, suicide and desertion are some of the more startling consequences of the emotional upsets which follow in the wake of discharge.  Read the story of Tiorsi, the hand laster of Boston, who had seen his pay envelope flatten from week to week.  When finally he brought home only three dollars he tried to hang himself.  And read that of Harry Towne, the Chicago truck driver, looking for work, worried because his sisters had to support him, refusing to eat&mdash;and then sent to a hospital where he stayed for months receiving treatment for a mental breakdown.</p><p>I cannot forget Susie Lock, whom I came to know in my canvass of unemployment in Detroit in 1930.  She was in the relief line because her husband had left her and her two small children.  &ldquo;You must be lazy or you&apos;d have gotten a job,&rdquo; she had said to him, and he had gone right out, joined &ldquo;a guy who&apos;s got an old Ford and him and three others have gone off in it.  But it&apos;s an open car and it&apos;s so cold and that was Tuesday and I ain&apos;t heard.  And I wish I hadn&apos;t said it,&rdquo; she finished.</p><p>We do not find such a dramatic climax in most stories.  They drag on and on, but the effects on the human spirit seem equally devastating.</p><p>Take one of our nearest neighbors.  Two years ago he was a friendly, bustling man of thirty.  He had worked for the Victor Company for ten years without missing one day and he was proud of his record.  After his lay-off he was unable to find steady work and took on odd painting jobs, which were few and far between.  Gradually his whole disposition changed; he began to complain constantly of headaches.  His feelings were always hurt and he became irritable with his children.  Finally we were able to persuade him to have a thorough examination.  The hospital reported that there was nothing wrong with him physically, but that he must have steady work and no worry because he was in danger of a <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110034">034</controlpgno><printpgno>xxxiii</printpgno></pageinfo>mental breakdown.  If he does break, it will mean that a wife and six children under thirteen will need support.</p><p>Take Rocco, the name under which is told the story of a young factory hand of twenty-nine, neighbor to the College settlement, across town from us in Philadelphia.  He is consumed with a desire to &ldquo;do right by his family.&rdquo;  No matter how worried he is, he always beams when he mentions his babies.  &ldquo;I&apos;ve got a wonderful kid, five years old,&rdquo; he tells you.  &ldquo;I don&apos;t want him to go through what I&apos;ve had.  I know what hard sledding is.  My father died when I was nine, and I went to work at eleven in a glass factory to help support my mother and little brother.  At thirteen I was working on the railroad, and at sixteen did a man&apos;s work.  I want to make something of my kid, but I can&apos;t even give him enough to eat now.&rdquo;</p><p>Losing faith and confidence in some one you have leaned upon the trusted is about the worst thing that can come to a human being.  When unemployment comes, the husband and wife most often face the situation together.  But this unity changes as the wife is harried by debt collectors, the rent man, the insurance man.  She sees the children half fed and getting thin, often sick, and needing clothes she can&apos;t buy; and then, too, she may be working herself and adding fatigue to worry.  In the first days of her husband&apos;s job-hunt she is sympathetic and fights to keep his courage up and defends him in the neighborhood.  The poignancy of his struggle has not been lost in her own discouragement.  I remember when Mrs. White came round to tell of her husband&apos;s first pay envelope after nearly a winter&apos;s search.  &ldquo;You know,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;the look on his face when he give it to me was like a child with a Christmas present.&rdquo;  But that was his first winter out.  Now, facing the third one, the Whites no longer present a united front.  She doesn&apos;t believe he tries and is bitter against him, and he no longer cares very much, for he has the gang and is &ldquo;in on the bottle as it is handed around,&rdquo; and only comes home late to sleep.  The strain and disappointment vent themselves in wrangles. <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110035">035</controlpgno><printpgno>xxxiv</printpgno></pageinfo>As Mrs. White puts it, &ldquo;There were no ugly words in our house when he was workin&rsquo;, but I&apos;m so tired now I don&apos;t know what I&apos;m saying.&rdquo;  And to come home from anything as disheartening as &ldquo;makin&rsquo; the rounds&rdquo; only to be accused of not really trying doesn&apos;t make for harmony.  The blame the husband sometimes gets only bespeaks a nervous strain on the part of the wife, but often she has read in the papers of prosperous times and that adds to her distrust of her husband&apos;s earnestness in his job-hunt.  &ldquo;If other men get jobs, as the papers say, why can&apos;t he?&rdquo;</p><p>The children cannot pass through all this untouched.  The psychologist and psychiatrist help us to understand what a background of strain and bad feeling can do to the growing child.  Like adults, children react differently to family tension.  In some the spirit is not strong enough to throw it off, but most children unconsciously elude as best they can the pressure of trouble in their home.  I have in mind a little friend of ours called Aggie, who took her small person out of her home as soon as she waked in the morning and was often picked up from neighboring doorsteps at night.  She spent every possible moment in the settlement, and when in the evenings there were no activities for very little girls, she would find some reason to go to the dispensary.  It was warm and light and friendly, and she would sit waiting her turn.  Once when told that the dentist couldn&apos;t see her, she was not to be put aside.  &ldquo;All right,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I&apos;ll stay and see the doctor for me warts.&rdquo;</p><p>The parents&rsquo; failure, which is driven home harder with each unsuccessful day, not only robs the children of a sense of security, but often of one source of leadership.  Mrs. White&apos;s bitterness toward her husband is aggravated by the fact that she is no longer able to control her ten- and twelve-year-old boys and they have lost respect for their father so that he can&apos;t help her.  Then, too, she has had to take her oldest boy out of school.</p><p>We do not often relate today&apos;s unemployment to the next generation.  But as you come to know the families of <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110036">036</controlpgno><printpgno>xxxv</printpgno></pageinfo>the unemployed, it sometimes seems that they feel a deeper resentment against their inability to make plans for the future than they do against their immediate sufferings.</p><p>Along with the children&apos;s education, the unemployed must cut out those things which make for interesting and creative living.  Back of this generalization are an infinite number of incidents set down in the case records, some of them seemingly inconsequential in themselves, but often of a sort which put their stamp on life.  Let me run over a few at random.  The oldest child in the Amay family had to stop her violin lessons.  Mrs. DeMacio hadn&apos;t had money for her newspaper for two years nor &ldquo;had she gone to a movie&rdquo; and, she added, in telling of it, &ldquo;You know how we both like good music!&rdquo;  In the Monterey family the Victrola was sold and all of the children were especially fond of music.  The tension of the father had crushed out his story-telling in the Maloofs&rsquo; home.  Mr. Carbino&apos;s unemployment had lessened the chances that a son may develop his artistic talent.  The oldest girl in the Curry family in Philadelphia was disappointed not to go to high school, but would not tell her parents because she &ldquo;didn&apos;t want to worry them.&rdquo; We can understand how the Bendiks thought of themselves as at the bottom of the ladder, worse off, after twelve years, than when they started out&mdash;with their savings gone, bills piled up, and three children&apos;s futures to think of. Mrs. Carter of Columbus, Georgia, sums up for us the feeling which runs like an unsteady ray of hope through so many of our family histories:  &ldquo;When you don&apos;t have much yourself, you like to see your children get it.  We have planned all our lives to have our children have a high school education.  Yes, maybe you are right; perhaps we will be able to give it to the little ones, but you know how it is with a mother; she don&apos;t want none of them slighted.&rdquo;</p><p>To the physical misery and strain is added the broken morale, the wreckage of human relations and hopes for boys and girls.  We are perhaps not so quick to feel badly about people&apos;s being worried as about their being hungry.  But <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110037">037</controlpgno><printpgno>xxxvi</printpgno></pageinfo>to the families concerned, the effects on the spirit may be more devastating.  They tell us so many times, &ldquo;It&apos;s not the going without we mind:  it&apos;s the insecurity.&rdquo;  The man who, with the loss of his job, has lost his sense belonging, and with it his place in the scheme of his own household, is on new and unsteady footing.  Under the emotional upset of fathers and mothers is the sense of trying to build on quicksand.  Most of us like to feel that in living we are building and the glimpses we catch of this trait reassure us of the reserves in human nature.  The older people have a patience that puts us to shame; but they lack the tools and materials to build anew.  The younger married men and women who lose their start have youth on their side, but are goaded by youth&apos;s impatience at futility.</p><p>What, above all, unemployment does to people is to take the spring out of them.</p></div></div><div><head>III</head><p>Out of their own experience, our settlement neighbors tell us what unemployment does to men, women and children.  But the telling will have been useless if we stop at this point and are not impelled to do something about it.  What significance do we find embedded in these cases which suggests lines of action?  However else they differ, these are year-round families who lack year-round incomes.  How, then, can we safeguard them at the points where their livelihood breaks down?  We must make work steadier and more secure.  We must make re-emloyment swifter when men and women are laid off.  And we must insure against want the households of breadwinners who seek work and cannot find it.</p><div><head>Steadier Work</head><p>That first need for stabilizing employment runs through all the cases.  There is a finality in those instances where the <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110038">038</controlpgno><printpgno>xxxvii</printpgno></pageinfo>job itself is gone&mdash;where a factory closes down, a coal mine is closed, a commodity drops off the market, or some technological change does away with the worker&apos;s function.  But there is hope in the seasonal trades, for we know that the builders can, to some extent, if they will, outflank climate and overcome custom by the new methods which are slowly bringing in all-year construction in temperate latitutes.  There is hope in industries where wage-earners are taken on and off merely because management has not yet been aroused to the importance of regular production.  Each industry, if not each plant, has its own difficulties to overcome, but progressive employers in a great variety of lines have demonstrated that much can be done to iron out the curves.  In Philadelphia the Permanent Committee on Unemployment of the Chamber of Commerce, under the chairmanship of Morris E. Leeds and with the expert direction of Professor Joseph H. Willits of the University of Pennsylvania, has brought out a constructive program.  This centers in an Institute for Regularization of Employment, which is to serve the machine trades, the textiles, and the other great industries.  They have set as their objective the highest employment score of all the urban districts in the country.  They estimate that it would add five billion dollars to the purchasing power of the wage-earners of the United States if every man had a chance to work a full year, and they are eager bidders for Philadelphia&apos;s share of that neglected market.</p><p>Municipalities as such have also taken a hand, Cincinnati leading with its first civic commission.  The states are waking up&mdash;New York, Ohio, Illinois, and Pennsylvania leading the way with employment planning committees.  Ours is an industrial civilization, and we are beginning to see that just as the public set out to make work safe in manufacturing, mining and transportation, so the time has come to make work stable.</p><p>closely related to industrial stabilization is the need for long-time planning for public works.  The principle has long <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110039">039</controlpgno><printpgno>xxxviii</printpgno></pageinfo>won acceptance that road building and other construction should be budgeted so that public enterprises can be pushed when private business falls off.  But the practical working out of the principle by city, county, state and national governments remains to be done.</p></div><div><head>Swifter Re-employment.</head><p>The second line for action is to modernize our public employment services, to lift the standards of private agencies, and to weed out the abuses and inefficiencies of our present haphazard methods of labor placement.  One of the boys in the neighborhood of University House read an advertisement saying ten men were wanted by a gasoline distributing company.  He arrived early, but found two hundred men ahead of him and the fire department playing a hose on them to disperse the crowd.  The jobs had been filled before the advertisement had had time to appear.  A comprehensive system of labor exchanges should obviate such common wastes as this.  In the absence of adequate public help, the displaced workman must look to his own feet as his employment service.  Even shoe-leather may go back on him and we find Mrs. Raymond putting pasteboard in her husband&apos;s shoes, cotton in their heels, and a brace-back on his knee as an aid in the tramp for work.</p><p>After following Jerry on his morning rounds or walking the streets all day with Mr. Zepone, after reading the testimony of Harry Silverman, twelve years in one place, who searches for five months for another, it is not easy to go on cherishing the idea that every man who really wants a job can find one.</p><p>As my neighbor, Mrs. Dever, said of her husband:  &ldquo;He ain&apos;t one to pick his job nor don&apos;t lay his own self off.  He&apos;d take anything.  He worked seven years in the mill as a dyer before it closed down, and that was last October, seven months ago, and he ain&apos;t had a job since.  And it ain&apos;t for not looking, for the feet&apos;s walked off him.  He comes home nights and just sits and soaks his feet.  Sometimes this winter <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110040">040</controlpgno><printpgno>xxxix</printpgno></pageinfo>it&apos;s been so bad I thought it was better not to take the wear off his shoes, but he goes just the same.  He says there&apos;s always the chance he might get something.&rdquo;</p><p>Over and over again the cases give us examples of the new unemployment which has come in with advances in applied science and which swells the ranks of footloose men.  Jervis, a mixer of colored inks for a Philadelphia publisher, is displaced by a machine; Morrow,<anchor id="N040-01">5</anchor> the Boston driver, loses his winter&apos;s work through the introduction of artificial ice; and then he and his horses are thrown out of delivery work in the summer by the coming of motor trucks.  Rafael, the Chicago painter, is crowded out by the spray lacquer system which requires fewer men; Tiorsi, the Boston shoe-maker, sees his hands displaced by knives and punches.</p><note anchor.ids="N040-01" place="bottom">5 The introduction draws upon all the studies turned in to the committee, and therefore includes families outside the 150 cases published here.</note><p>The bitter antagonism the workers often express toward labor-saving devices is easily explained by our inadequate facilities for helping them make adjustments when the changes come.  It is no wonder that the man out of a job does not speculate, as do the economists and engineers, on the ultimate effect of technological progress.  There are those who assure us that in the long run it creates more work than it supplants.  But the man done out of a job only knows that a machine is taking his place.  The sentiment among the members of one of our neighborhood clubs was that labor-saving machinery, as they expressed it, is the worker&apos;s worst enemy.  &ldquo;It certainly is.  I had a cousin who worked in D.&rsquo;s checking bills.  They got in adding machines and three girls got laid off.  They had to learn the shoe business.&rdquo;  &ldquo;H. &amp; E. bought rug machines and laid off a hundred people.  Six girls took the place of a hundred.&rdquo;  &ldquo;One girl had to take the place of three, running a machine at R.&rsquo;s mill.  If she doesn&apos;t like it, she can get out.&rdquo;  &ldquo;It used to take four days to load a boat down at the river.  Now a machine loads it in nine hours with only one man working.&rdquo;</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110041">041</controlpgno><printpgno>xl</printpgno></pageinfo><p>We may not share their sense of grievance against a management that takes advantage of new machines or motive powers.  But why should our business organizers have been so backward in matching these upsetting inventions with a modern employment service, federal, state and local, that will make use of abilities now allowed to go to waste for lack of any adequate system to distribute them?</p></div><div><head>Insurance</head><p>There remains the underlying need for safeguarding the households of breadwinners who seek work and cannot find it.  The control of the business cycle, if we ever achieve it, will help cut down their numbers.  So will industrial stabilization and long-time planning of public works.  An efficient placement system will also help.  Yet no one who scans the ups and downs of American business enterprise, our changes in techniques and styles and markets, the shiftings of industry from one region to another, can but see that there will still be need for protection of some sort against unprevented or unpreventable unemployment over which the worker himself has no control.</p><p>it is obvious that the regularization of industry cannot be carried out by the man whom it most directly affects.  We put that up to management.  But we seem to assume that by some miracle he and his family can underwrite the irregularities of industry.  And we have been slow to extend to this hazard of broken work the principle we have applied so successfully to industrial accidents by workmen&apos;s compensation laws which spread a share of that risk over our costs of production.</p><p>Here are 150 homes in a prosperous country and in a prosperous epoch.  Here are 150 families dislodged from their means of subsistence for reasons outside of themselves.  Here are 150 breadwinners eager to shoulder the burden of livelihood if they are given the chance.  Let us run over the sequence of makeshifts these families resorted to and <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110042">042</controlpgno><printpgno>xli</printpgno></pageinfo>ask ourselves whether any or all of them seem satisfactory provisions for safeguarding such homes.</p></div><div><head>Savings</head><p>Savings are the first cushion, cash savings first of all.  Many of our families had small savings, but there is nothing in their experience to show that high wages are general enough or continuous enough to enable savings to give any general security.  The economists tell us that for three-quarters of the population of the United States the margin between income and necessary outgo is so close as to allow little or no leeway for emergencies.  In one out of five of our cases it is recorded that the families had used up whatever cash savings they had.  When it has taken fifteen years to save $700, as it had the DiPesas of Boston, and you wipe it out in one winter of unemployment, you have lost something more than the $700.  You do not start again with the same spirit.  In one out of ten of the cases, especially those where the work had been seasonal or where there were a larger number of children or there had been previous sickness, the families had not been able to lay by for a &ldquo;rainy day.&rdquo;  Or, as one neighbor put it, it &ldquo;rained too soon.&rdquo;</p><p>Those of us who have followed them in their long line of retrenchments know that not one step is taken without a struggle.  After the cash savings are gone, insurance policies lapse.  We might well stop at this point, for no family gives up its insurance without a fight.  They are small policies, most of them, enough to see them through a decent burial, but they mean something almost symbolic to the poor.  The fear of not being able to bury their own dead haunts even the least independent.</p><p>There is scarcely a family whose ideal is not to own their own home.  A house is savings if you own it or are buying it bit by bit on instalments.  This instinct for home ownership survives in spite of discouraging fluctuations in real estate values in our industrial neighborhoods.  Many of our immigrant peoples come from countries where their families have <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110043">043</controlpgno><printpgno>xlii</printpgno></pageinfo>lived for generations on the same little plot of ground.  With them the instinct to own is deep-seated, and they are willing to put up a fierce struggle to have it satisfied.  That struggle must be watched close at hand to understand its full significance.  A dozen of our families had engaged in it, only to find the home they had worked for, which had stood for security to them, become a back-breaking load once their earning power was cut.  They were in arrears in their payments, behind in their interest on mortgages, and some of them faced foreclosure.  The LeFevres of Minneapolis had paid $2000 against $3500 on the house they lived in.  The furniture had cost $1100 and was all paid for.  When the LeFevres came to the attention of the settlement they had lost their house and sold their furniture and the five members of the family were all living in one room.  It takes little imagination to guess what had happened to the morale of the family by the time they arrived in that single room.</p><p>Furniture is savings:  and we find furniture sold or, more often, lost to the instalment collector.  That was the way with the piano which the Morans in Boston had almost paid for.  Then their parlor furniture went.  The instalment house stripped the rooms of the De Macios of Pittsburgh and left only mattresses, broken chairs and a hot plate.  It meant more than the actual loss when the young Greens had saved $1500 over five years to buy their furnishings and were forced to sell them for $200.  These material things stand for steps along the line of respectability and progress.  They mean not only parlor furniture, but the place you take in your community, your being able to have your friends in, your daughter&apos;s meeting her boy friend in her own home instead of on the corner.</p><p>And more intimate treasures are also lost.  Dorothy Dohancy in Boston, in order to meet the rent, insurance, union dues, instalment payments, pawned her wedding ring.  The Benders in Cleveland had no furniture they could sell, so it was the mother&apos;s engagement ring that was put in hock.  The James family in Salt Lake City pawned both the <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110044">044</controlpgno><printpgno>xliii</printpgno></pageinfo>mother&apos;s wedding ring and the father&apos;s watch.  The Sapellis pawned their little girl&apos;s communion ring to pay for the mother&apos;s dental work.  She was just thirty, but when they found it would cost more than the ring brought in, she had all her teeth pulled out.</p><p>As we turn the pages of these stories we appreciate the slenderness of savings as a buffer to misfortune, and we cannot feel that they are a convincing answer to the need for security against industrial changes.</p></div><div><head>Borrowings</head><p>What is the next line of defense these families fall back upon?  They borrow.  Families without houses, furniture or articles which can be sold or pawned are thrust quickly on the mercy of the landlord and the grocer.  To the members of a household who have paid their rent promptly and hold their heads high in the neighborhood, this running into debt is a humiliating business and the daily facing of creditors adds to the strain which is put upon family relationships.  Hilda and Herman Reuter had been able to save on $18 a week and their upstanding part in the community had been a great source of satisfaction to them.  It is especially noted in their case that when Herman&apos;s earnings stopped and they got behind, he it was who saw the creditors.  But it is the wife generally who faces them or tries to elude them.  You come upon the front door and find it locked; the curtains are down.  No one&apos;s at home.  But if your rap is known, you may find the mother in the kitchen waiting for a chance to steal out and avoid the collector.  One out of five of our families ran up bills for groceries, coal, milk and other necessities.  &ldquo;I can tell you what unemployment has done for us,&rdquo; said Mr. Conway of Louisville.  &ldquo;It has got us so deeply in debt that we can never pull out.&rdquo;</p><p>And whether it is the wage-earner&apos;s family that thus eats up his future earnings, or the small shopkeeper who carries them and runs into bankruptcy all the faster if he has a <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110045">045</controlpgno><printpgno>xliv</printpgno></pageinfo>heart, we cannot think it good public policy thus to let things drift from bad to worse.</p></div><div><head>Charity</head><p>Society does not, of course, leave such families altogether to their own devices.  When other resources have been exhausted, and in most instances only then, the family asks for charity.  Before they were through, a third of our families had done so&mdash;but often only after a long struggle.  Some few because pauperized, but many could never reconcile themselves to accepting help from strangers.</p><p>Often charitable relief is difficult to obtain for a family where there is an able-bodied man.  John Schneider of New Orleans wanted to kill himself because he felf that his family would get help if it were not for him.  Young Mr. Miller in Pittsburg refused for a long time to ask for aid because he was a young man, able and willing to work, and was ashamed to receive it from any agency.  Mrs. Amay says:  &ldquo;We never asked help from no one.  We couldn&apos;t bear to let no one, even our own people and they could&apos;t help us anyway, know of our trouble, but when the children needed food we had to tell some one.  The nurse came in and found me cyring, so I told her.&rdquo;  Mr. Estrada developed a bitter attitude toward life, feeling that a man willing to work should be able to find it.  He so resented charity that he refused to eat food that came from outside.  Mr. Blanton was keeping a record of the money loaned him by the welfare society and hoped some day to repay.  He admitted, however, that he was losing his self-respect and felt that he would lose his mind unless he could find work.</p><p>When unemployment insurance is mentioned in this country the cry of &ldquo;We don&apos;t want the dole here&rdquo; is often raised by people who do not realize that in our relief methods for the unemployed we are using a dole which is much more demoralizing than any plan of insurance would be.  Social work has made advances in the deftness with which it helps adjust family troubles, but social work can scarcely <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110046">046</controlpgno><printpgno>xlv</printpgno></pageinfo>underwrite the load of unemployment in its great cyclical manifestations.  There is not the money to do the job.  Emergency funds are makeshifts, and emergency relief crowds out of constructive work of the social agencies.  In good times or bad, to the families of the unemployed, relief from such sources comes more often than not as an added misfortune.  They lose something, as they see it, when they take even if the cause for asking for it lies outside their own control.   It means a serious break in family pride and self-confidence, a self-confidence which seldom blossoms again with the same sturdiness.  Even if it covered the ground, charitable relief would not be a convincing answer, either, to industrial dislocation in a democracy.</p></div><div><head>Other Makeshifts</head><p>Our families turn to other makeshifts they have worked out themselves.  They move to cheaper quarters; they break up the home; they cut down on conveniences, on clothing, on food.  But are these the working of a providence that fits our modern world?  A bread line stands out like a silhouette of misery in our memories.  The relief lines that I came upon at the municipal stations in Detroit last winter, and the employment lines at the plants, etched themselves deeply.  But there is another slow-moving procession of which we catch only fragmentary glimpses, but which, if it could be run before us like a film, would leave us with still less peace of mind.  That is the search for cheaper quarters on the part of the families of men out of work.  Here, in a very tangible way, they beat a retreat, into fewer and fewer rooms, into apartments with less and less comfort, into basements and into fire traps on which no rent is collected.  We find the Mullinses moving out to a little unpaved street in Atlanta, the Handels to the lane in the follow under Meadow Street bridge in Pittsburg, where the mud was ankle deep.  There is not a squalid street along the waterfronts of New Orleans or New York, Boston or Bufallo or <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110047">047</controlpgno><printpgno>xlvi</printpgno></pageinfo>Chicago and our other port cities, that has not harbored such families as they settle to lower levels.</p><p>In the course of it all they sacrifice those conveniences which we associate with the American standard of living.  The apartment to which the Mullinses moved, for example, had no bath and only an outside toilet.  The two-room shack that the Handels found was little better than a woodshed with its lack of heat and light and water.  But even if the family stays on in the same house, what we call the necessities of life may drop out.  Our neighbor, Mrs. White, kept her household sitting in the dark, evenings.  &ldquo;Our gas is a twenty-five-cent meter and we didn&apos;t have it unless we had the quarter.&rdquo;  Repeatedly we hear of lodgers and boarders being &ldquo;taken in&rdquo; and between the lines this may mean overcrowding beyond the limits of decency.  As many of our families took in boarders as moved; it was an expedient to stave off moving.  A line of escape lies in breaking up the home altogether.  Among young couples, the man goes back to his people, the wife to hers, and if there are children, she takes them with her.  In some instances the children are &ldquo;put away&rdquo; in some charitable institution; and in our city of Philadelphia we have the anomaly these years that while neither the city nor the private philanthropies have had money enough for families out of work, there were always the orphanages and other children&apos;s institutions.  We could break up a family, but we could not hold it together.</p><p>It is hard to think that these distruptions of family life and standards are desirable ways to meet the difficulties such households confront.  We can see the helplessness of individuals who thus try to adjust themselves to the changes of industry, with the grocery bill rolling up, back rent accumulating, and the house growing cold in the face of unsteady employment.  There is nothing seasonal in the need for food and shelter, and the working man faces a steady demand for his pay envelope in the face of a fluctuating need for his work.  &ldquo;You just can&apos;t do with odd jobs and a <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110048">048</controlpgno><printpgno>xlvii</printpgno></pageinfo>family.  You&apos;ve got to have that pay envelope every week, or the children don&apos;t eat,&rdquo; says Mrs. Raymond.</p></div><div><head>Cutting Down on Food</head><p>And as the assault on everyday living presses more and more inexorably, the families dig themselves in deeper.  As Mrs. Cardani in New York put it to Mrs. Nelson, &ldquo;You know what we do?  If we pay the rent and there isn&apos;t enough left, you know what we do.  If we&apos;re going to live honest, you know what we do.&rdquo;  &ldquo;We eat little&mdash;that&apos;s what we do,&rdquo; broke in her little girl, thinking her mother had not made herself clear.  The Tiorsis of Boston &ldquo;pulled in their belts.&rdquo;  The Giaimos of Madison fed their children all the time on potatoes and bread, with beans for meat.  The Monterey children in New Orleans picked up scraps of meat and vegetables cast aside the market.  One winter the Bertleys of Atlanta with their four children managed on less than $5 a week for groceries.  This meant that the family ate only two meals a day consisting of corn bread, salt meat and dried beans.  When Mrs. Bertley had several fainting spells, they finally got her to a doctor who said that she was not getting enough to eat.</p><p>But let two of our Philadelphia mothers tell for themselves how they managed.</p><p>Mrs. White:  &ldquo;I just saw Harry and Joan starving to death before my eyes.  Then the first time I ever got a card with &ldquo;malnutrition&rdquo; written on it from the school was after their father lost his $25 job and took at $21; and then last winter when he was out both Margaret and Brother got &lsquo;malnutrition&rsquo; written on their cards again.  The children seldom get any meat, perhaps on Sunday if I can manage it, and never any desserts.&rdquo;</p><p>Mrs. Kirk:  &ldquo;They are so used to going without food that they can&apos;t eat much when they do get it.  They don&apos;t say much, but they know when there&apos;s nothin&apos;.&rdquo;</p><p>Cutting down on food, then, is one thing the family does for itself.  In every third of our neighborhood cases, the <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110049">049</controlpgno><printpgno>xlviii</printpgno></pageinfo>families had done it so radically as to prompt the investigator to remark upon it.  The unmistakable evidences of malnutrition noted in case after case, and the prevalence among them of sicknesses that have roots in a weakened resistance, would not lead us to think lightly of this as something society should encourage as a recourse against unemployment.</p></div><div><head>The Mother Goes to Work</head><p>There is still another reserve that the family finds within itself.  The mother goes out to work&mdash;for she can often get a job when the man cannot.  Here in order, if you would read them, are the case numbers in which this happened:  1, 5, 6, 7, 8, 11, 12, 14, 18, 20, 22, 23, 24, 32, 37, 48, 49, 55, 56, 58, 65, 67, 68, 73, 79, 83, 86, 91, 92, 93, 101, 102, 104, 105, 107, 109, 113, 119, 121, 126, 128, 129, 130, 134, 138, 140, 142, 143, 145, 147.  When the bankers and industrialists, the engineers and managers have not, in their organization of industry, enough work for the men, enter Mrs. Jenkins, Mrs. Levy, Mrs. Carbino, and the rest.</p><p>The stories abound in the results of the double load on their shoulders.  Mrs. Moran was taken ill from lifting too heavy pails of water in her cleaning job.  After two months on her back she returned to work.  Mrs. Walther, who had been doing part-time work, undertook a full-time position.  She went on twelve-hour night duty at a hospital.  In this way she was able to keep her home and take care of her son during the day.  Several months of this way followed by a nervous breakdown and she spent months herself as a patient in a hospital.  Mrs. Cardani stays up until one, two, or three o&apos;clock every night trying to keep the house clean and the children&apos;s clothes fit to wear to school.  &ldquo;Maybe next summer if he gets a job I&apos;ll get a chance to rest up,&rdquo; she says.  A near neighbor of ours in Philadelphia cleaned offices in the daytime and again at night.  Her children were asked when she slept.  &ldquo;Oh, she puts her head down on the table after supper, and sleeps until she goes out at ten.&rdquo;</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110050">050</controlpgno><printpgno>xlix</printpgno></pageinfo><p>As is well known to us who watch the women of our unemployed coming to the rescue, the courage and the devotion of these women are not exceptional.  But even if they rise to it, that cannot satisfy those of us who look on.</p><p>Still less can we be content that in one out of three of such families there are children who can be and are taken from school and put to work.  Surely that is not the recourse we are looking for.</p></div><div><head>Security</head><p>If these stories, as we believe, are fair cross-sections of experience, then unemployment strikes in two ways at the security of wage-earning families.</p><p>First, the workman cannot be sure of holding his job.  Through all the cases runs the evidence that perseverance, skill, education, health, long and excellent work records&mdash;that none of these stands &ldquo;the breadwinner in certain stead when the bad word is handed down.&rdquo;</p><p>Second, the workman&apos;s family has no surety in tiding over the time he is out of work.  Our analyses of the lines on which these hundred and fifty families fell back in their trouble showed that neither savings in cash, nor in homes, furniture, or personal keepsakes, neither charity nor getting into debt to butcher and baker, neither moving to cheaper quarters nor scrimping on food, nor the enforced labor of mothers and children gave adequate assurance of livelihood when broken work or no work at all drove these families back on their own resources.  All combined, these makeshifts did not offer a reasonable solution of their predicament nor one which we should tolerate as part of our going life.</p><p>Affirmatively, those of us who have gathered and interpreted these stories found agreement in the following:<anchor id="N050-01">6</anchor></p><note anchor.ids="N050-01" place="bottom">6 Calkins, <hi rend="italics">Some Folks Won&apos;t Work,</hi> p. 161.</note><p>Clearly, whether unemployment is controllable or uncontrollable, its ultimate burden falls upon men least able to bear it and frequently upon those in no way responsible for its incidence.  Most of the great modern nations have provided their workers with some form of insurance against such unemployment.  We have not.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110051">051</controlpgno><printpgno>l</printpgno></pageinfo><p>A small group of progressive American employers have set up employment reserves, and in the garment trade we have had an outstanding example of a mutual fund under labor-management control.  The United States has built up better employment statistics by industries than has Europe.  It is held by certain economists that an original scheme of protective insurance classified by trades and establishments can be devised so that, as in our fire insurance companies, the economic pressure of the system will give an advantage to those industries which regularize their employment.  But whether protection is arranged by individual management, by the trade as a whole, or through public action, as in compensation laws, the burden of unemployment should not be allowed to fall solely on the family of the worker.</p><p>The ills that flesh is heir to will always swell the stream of unemployment.  Sickness, bad habits, insanity, irresponsibility, incapacity, accidents, old age and death put families on the rocks.  But these are problems of health and psychiatry, or of relief or other spheres of social treatment.  Our settlement study sought to disentangle the unemployed from the unemployable by dealing only with families whose predicament was due to industrial causes outside their control.</p><p>Under any scheme of protection which would make industry and the consuming public co-partners in insuring against such risks of broken work, the benefits would cover only a comparatively small share of the loss from broken earnings.  The greater share would continue to be borne by the families and the dislodged wage-earners themselves.  If these case-stories show anything they show that most families can be counted upon to shoulder that share with fortitude.  The benefits would create a minimum social provision against the more extreme forms of distress; and their receipt would come not as an affront to the instinct for self-dependence but as part of the bargain of livelihood for those whose fortunes are bound up in the operation of American industry.</p><p>No one who reads any number of these case-records can feel happy in his mind that we should leave it to people so disadvantaged to combat, single-handed, the industrial changes and dislocations which tear at the structure of their homes.</p></div></div></div></front><body><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110052">052</controlpgno><printpgno>1</printpgno></pageinfo><div><head>CASE 1<hsep>Union Settlement<lb>CARDANI<anchor id="N052-01">*</anchor><hsep>New York City, N. Y.</head><note anchor.ids="N052-01"place="bottom">* The names in all the cases are fictitious in order not to reveal the identity of the persons included in the study.</note><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Ital.</hi>  (<hi rend="italics">M. 37; W. 28</hi>)<lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">11, 10, 8</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Laborer</hi> (<hi rend="italics">bricklayer&apos;s helper</hi>)<lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">seasonal slackness; oversupply of labor</hi></hi></p><p>The Cardani family of mother and father, 11-year-old daughter and two sons, aged 10 and 8 have lived close neighbors to the settlement for ten years.  Mrs. Cardani has been a star member of the nutrition class for mothers, a proficient pupil in English, and a real asset to the settlement because of her co&ouml;perativeness,&mdash;always ready to break the ice at a party by singing an Italian song, or to coach her children and help with their costumes when they have taken part in plays.  All three children have entered with enthusiasm into any and every activity offered by the settlement for junior groups, and the excellence of their work has been noteworthy.  Mr. Cardani has been shy to the point of aloofness; on the rare occasions when he has come to the settlement,&mdash;perhaps to a community gathering, or to see Bianca dance,&mdash;it has been impossible to engage him in conversation.  For the last eight months, the family has been coming less and less frequently to the settlement, and this is the explanation given by Mrs. Cardani:<lb>&ldquo;Ever since last May I work so hard and so long at the factory that I cannot go to clubs and classes any more.  My Bianca does some of the work home that I used to do, so she can&apos;t go either, with her lessons getting harder and everything.&rdquo;</p><p>Here Mrs. Cardani put aside her iron, wiped off a chair for her caller, and she sank into another, with a look of <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110053">053</controlpgno><printpgno>2</printpgno></pageinfo>relief; 10-year-old Enrico took up the iron and slowly and painstakingly completed two boys&rsquo; blouses and a pair of ruffled sash-curtains.</p><p>&ldquo;I&apos;ve always helped out some, sewing coats at home, or half-time in the factory.  But this year my husband has been off since May.  Only five days&rsquo; work since May, right in the good season too, when we count on buying clothes and saving a little.  So now I work all day long.  I&apos;m glad to do it.  He has always brought home every dollar he&apos;s earned, and so good to the children, and just crazy when they&apos;re sick or when they don&apos;t seem to do well.</p><p>&ldquo;Why couldn&apos;t he get a job last summer?  Well, you see, he don&apos;t speak so good English and there aren&apos;t enough jobs to go round anyway, so he don&apos;t have much chance.  Every morning he goes to see the bosses.  They say, &lsquo;No, too many men come; not enough work; you got to wait.&rsquo;  Everywhere too many men, jobs for just a few.</p><p>&ldquo;I could earn much more money if I went down town to work.  But I don&apos;t want to let the children run wild, with nothing hot for lunch or anything.  This boss, he knows we women don&apos;t want to leave our families and go way down there, so he says, &lsquo;Take what I pay or get out.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p><p>&ldquo;But surely, Mrs. Cardani, you cannot earn enough to pay the rent, and buy coal and food, too?&rdquo;</p><p>&ldquo;No, I can&apos;t.  For these four rooms we pay $20 a month.  I make $12 a week.  That&apos;s all we have.  But you know what we do.  If we pay the rent and there isn&apos;t enough left, <hi rend="italics">you know what we do.</hi>  If were going to live honest, <hi rend="italics">you know what we do.&rdquo;</hi></p><p>Here Bianca, an interested listener, deciding that her mother was not making herself clear, explained, &ldquo;We eat little&mdash;that&apos;s what we do.&rdquo;</p><p>&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; went on Mrs. Cardani, now that the truth was out, &ldquo;that&apos;s the only place we can cut down.  I buy a quart of loose milk every morning.  The children have this with breakfast,&mdash;I usually cook cereal, too.  Then what milk is left they can have at a noon, maybe mixed with cocoa and <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110054">054</controlpgno><printpgno>3</printpgno></pageinfo>water, for something warm.  Then at night we have something that fills our stomachs up.  I can get four pounds of greens for fifteen cents, and that does fine for a meal.  I haven&apos;t been buying eggs or meat this winter.  From the time my babies were weaned they always had one egg a day.  Now Bianca is getting so thin and white, my husband says we&apos;ll have to manage that egg again somehow.  ... No, I don&apos;t mind eating light&mdash;it just makes me kinda cold sometimes.  But it&apos;s the children!</p><p>&ldquo;I got some trouble too that pulls me down.  The doctor said I should rest or have operation.  But I haven&apos;t any time or any money.  I stay up till one, two, three o&apos;clock every night trying to keep the house clean and the children&apos;s clothes fit to wear to school.  Maybe next summer if he gets a job, I&apos;ll get a chance to rest up.&rdquo;</p><p>Just then Mr. Cardani came in and when told what the talk was about, added in broken English, &ldquo;I came to this country eighteen year ago.  I live always with Italian people.  All the men I know they do day labor same as me.  I&apos;m bricklayer&apos;s helper&mdash;$8 a day.  We never make full week though&mdash;one day too cold, next day it rain, maybe the sand don&apos;t come, maybe the cement.</p><p>&ldquo;What do I do when I got no job?  Mornings I go out and look for job.  Then I come home and sit.  Nine months I sit around now.  I can&apos;t read&mdash;just like a blind man!  You see my father die when I was 5, and leave my mother with four little children.  He was sick, my father, a long time.  No money left.  No free school in those days&mdash;my brother and my sisters and I, we never went to school.</p><p>&ldquo;Why don&apos;t I go to English class?  I go two year to the school in the next block.  The teacher make the writing on the blackboard, so and so and so [scrolls]; I copy, so and so and so.  But I don&apos;t know the letters.  The other men, yes, they read Italian newspaper.  But I don&apos;t know one letter.  I don&apos;t tell the teacher&mdash;she have enough trouble.  It&apos;s too late now.&rdquo;</p><p>At the door Mrs. Cardani remarked that it was getting <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110055">055</controlpgno><printpgno>4</printpgno></pageinfo>colder out.  &ldquo;When it comes very cold,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;we have to spend the money for coal and then I just don&apos;t know what to do for food.&rdquo;  There had been no fire in the stove that evening with the thermometer at 40&deg; outdoors.  The flat was cold and the floor draughty.  The parents were wearing coats or sweaters turned up at the neck, and the children had only cotton stockings and thin shoes.</p></div><div><head>CASE 2<hsep>Kingsley House<lb>MULLINS<hsep>Pittsburgh, Pa.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Irish parentage) (M. 30; W. 30)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">9, 7, 3, 3, 3 mos.</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Miner; Later Machinist<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression, seasonal slackness</hi></hi></p><p>Mr. and Mrs. Mullins are American of Irish parentage.  They have five children:  Catherine, 9; Frank (&ldquo;Buzzie&rdquo;), 7; Mildred and Minerva (twins), 3, and Betty Ann, 3 months.</p><p>Mr. Mullins is the only breadwinner.  He is at present working in the assembling room of a motor works getting on the average seven days&rsquo; work in two weeks, for which he receives $35.  He had a fair amount of schooling and talks well.</p><p>In 1921, news of the boom in the West Virginia coal mines attracted them there and with their baby girl, Catherine, they made their home in one of the small mining towns of West Virginia.  Mr. Mullins then trained as a coal-miner and passed a Mine-Rescue-Work examination held by the Bureau of Mines.  Here they had a comfortable home.  Work was plentiful and wages high.  They had plenty of food and good clothing.  Mr. Mullins would sometimes make enough in one day to pay the month&apos;s rent.  He was quite interested in radio and made several successful sets for his friends and neighbors and had one in his own home.  In 1922, Frank was born.  These were happy years.  They were able to have all <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110056">056</controlpgno><printpgno>5</printpgno></pageinfo>they needed for themselves and the children.  They bought a car.  Money came easily and they spent freely, but in 1924 work began to get scarce.  They had to sell the car and other things in the home.  In 1925, the increasing scarcity of work and his wife&apos;s urge to find a less dangerous job resulted in Mr. Mullins&rsquo; giving up work in the mines, the family leaving West Virginia and coming to Pittsburgh.  He then worked in a motor works for a year and was laid off when work was scarce.  After a long spell of unemployment, he returned to the mines and worked there six months, but the strike came and the mine went non-union.  He could not make enough to keep his family, so he finally left the mines.  He then worked as a laborer for a contractor for six months, but the weather got bad and he was laid off.  He tried the job of insurance agent, but could not make anything at it.  He got work again at the same motor works,&mdash;this time being there four months before being laid off when work was slack.  At this time, the family was obliged to leave the settlement neighborhood because Mr. Mullins got a job in a garage on the other side of the city.  The hours here were such that he did not get home until 2 a.m. or later, and his wife, alone at home with five little ones, succeeded in persuading him to give up this job and accept one in a local garage with day work.  This turned out to be a failure, and he was given $30 for the week&apos;s work and two days to find a new job.  After two months, he got a position as chauffeur to a private family, but after he had been there one month, the family went south.  He was then taken back again at the motor works, where he is at present, getting part-time work,&mdash;about seven days in two weeks.  During these years he started a course in mechanical drafting but for lack of money had to give it up.</p><p>The family had savings that lasted for about six months.  Now they get into debt every time Mr. Mullins is out of work, and try to pay off these debts when there is a job again.  They are three months behind in the rent.  The rooms they have occupied since Mr. Mullins has had only temporary work have been of about the same type,&mdash;two or three <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110057">057</controlpgno><printpgno>6</printpgno></pageinfo>rooms for $25 a month.  In the apartment which they now occupy, there is no heat (except from an open fire when they have money to buy coal), no hot water and no bath, and only an outside toilet.  Mrs. Mullins has not been able to work as the children are too young to be left.  They applied to the city for material relief and were referred to the Salvation Army, but no relief was given.  A Christmas basket was received from a local school in 1927.</p><p>The Mullinses are not able to keep up their accustomed standards.  The house furnishings are very shabby and worn.  The clothing of the family is in bad condition and the children do not have sufficient clothing to keep them warm in the cold weather.  The health of the children is suffering.  The two eldest especially show signs of undernourishment.  Since they moved away from the city milk station, the children have scarcely tasted milk.  Catherine does not grow, is listless and is unable to get rid of a bronchial cough.  Frank and the three little ones have all had coughs for months.  Mrs. Mullins looks well, but Mr. Mullins does not, and complains frequently of severe headaches.  The medical care necessary for the babies at different times has been received at the hospital clinics.</p><p>Mr. Mullins&rsquo; attitude is one of worry, anxiety and growing discouragement.  He is distressed that he cannot clothe and feed his family as he would like to.  He realizes that he is unable to get a well-paid permanent job because, since he gave up coal-mining, he is one of the many unskilled workmen.  He has, however, shown persistence in looking for jobs.  He is anxious to become a &ldquo;skilled&rdquo; workman, but home circumstances, so far, have prevented him from carrying through any training.  He still hopes to be able to do so.  As he has held different types of jobs, he has gained self-reliance.  He still has self-respect and will not talk to visitors after his working hours until he has &ldquo;cleaned up.&rdquo;  He has faced his situation with courage, but is becoming despondent.</p><p>Mrs. Mullins is also discouraged and discontented.  She seems to have lost heart.  She is anxious about the children, <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110058">058</controlpgno><printpgno>7</printpgno></pageinfo>and, though not censorious to her husband, complains about the lack of money.</p><p>The children are too young to understand the situation though they know that things are not as they ought to be and that there is not enough money.</p><p>The parents are devoted to the children, and apart from spells of short temper, the home atmosphere is harmonious.</p><p>Unemployment has certainly curtailed the opportunities of the Mullins family for development.  It is undermining the health of the children.</p><p>Mr. Mullins is determined to have his children educated to a skilled trade and save them from experiencing the trouble he is having now.</p><p>Since leaving the settlement neighborhood, the children have no place of recreation.  Mr. Mullins joined the American Legion, but he is behind in his dues and so has not been to any meetings for a long time.  He is intensely interested in radio and now cannot even afford to have one in his own home.  Mrs. Mullins does not get any kind of recreation or relaxation.</p><p>The children are growing up under a cloud of anxiety and depression, hearing constantly about the lack of money and the lack of food, and the bitterness and hardness of life.  When the worker asked little Catherine what she was going to be when she grew up, she replied, &ldquo;I&apos;m going to be an old maid, for Mother says it&apos;s too hard,&mdash;being married.&rdquo;</p></div><div><head>CASE 3<hsep>Hull House<lb>DESOTTO<hsep>Chicago, Ill.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Ital.</hi> (<hi rend="italics">M. almost 40</hi>)<lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">7 ranging from 2 to 15 yrs.</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Painter<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">seasonal slackness</hi></hi></p><p>I always dread a visit to the DeSotto family.  There is a sense of sadness in the household&mdash;almost a sense of fear. <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110059">059</controlpgno><printpgno>8</printpgno></pageinfo>And there is a haunted look in Mr. DeSotto&apos;s face.  He came from Italy about twenty years ago.  In Italy, the family had been prosperous, when he was a boy, but later had bad luck.  There were twenty children in the father&apos;s household.  Many grew up almost to maturity, but then, through various causes, died.  Two died violent deaths, and about the same time, the family lost much property.  This loss and the loss of the children seem to be associated in Mr. DeSotto&apos;s mind, because his parents were discouraged and neglected their wine-bearing lands.  A portrait of an uncle, a mayor of a small Italian town, hangs on the wall of the home, showing that the family had a good standing in Italy.  At the time of their misfortune, Mr. DeSotto left home for America, but brought with him a sense of disaster&mdash;of some ill-fate following him.  I think his nervous and rather artistic temperament has been a big factor in the family life.</p><p>He is a house painter by trade,&mdash;self-taught.  Two years ago we urged him to join a union and offered to lend him money for his entrance fee.  Lack of money for this fee and a fear of losing his small-pay customers had kept him from joining before.  He took the examination, but failed to pass because (he was told later) he had worked outside the union for so many years.</p><p>He only gets work for five or six months out of the year,&mdash;the good indoor jobs such as the painting and decoration of new buildings being given to union men.  He works among fairly poor people, but for the summer months gets as much as $7 a day,&mdash;though at times he will work for $5.  We have tried to get factory work for him and other kinds of work; he has tried on his own, but with no success.  He is almost forty now and looks older.  His manner is nervous, he is touchy and irritable.  These things may perhaps have been against him in getting work.</p><p>During the winter months the situation is always bad.  The family gets into debt all winter and at times cannot even get credit, and seems almost without the barest necessities.  The surplus from the summer&apos;s wages has gone to <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110060">060</controlpgno><printpgno>9</printpgno></pageinfo>pay the last winter&apos;s debt.  The family life is then wretched.  The parents, greatly depressed, talk constantly of their misfortunes.  Mr. DeSotto is intensely irritable, Mrs. DeSotto is complaining, and the strain upon the children is great.  A certain tragic element is in them all,&mdash;an unusual sensitiveness.  For this reason, the situation is more tense and unbearable than it might otherwise be.  In summer, they seem prosperous for the time&mdash;in spite of debts and in spite of the prospect of another black winter&mdash;and for the moment they seem fairly peaceful and spend their cash rather too easily.</p><p>Mrs. DeSotto&apos;s people were of fairly good standing, and her standard of what a home should be, of how life should be maintained, is fairly high.  Wishing always for better things for herself and family, she spends too much from their small income for house furnishings and clothes.  The house is always clean and even when there is almost no furniture owing to failure to pay the monthly installments, there is a certain grace about it,&mdash;and Mrs. DeSotto&apos;s graciousness and courtesy never fail.</p><p>It was about ten years ago that they first came to Hull-House.  They were in the midst of one of their black, penniless winters, and living in high-ceilinged, almost unheated rooms.  A boy had died,&mdash;partly from the cold, they thought, and their grief was very great.  Hull-House helped them at the time and has helped them at intervals ever since.  The charities have given some aid and the dispensaries have been helpful during their many illnesses.  They are willing to accept any aid, though their pride makes them give many excuses.</p><p>There are seven children,&mdash;four boys three girls,&mdash;ranging from two to fifteen.  They are intelligent, and have much beauty and some refinement, but are rather frail, especially the younger ones.  Better bred than the children of the neighborhood in which they have lived, and feeling a little superior, they have been almost persecuted by the rougher children on their way to school or when playing <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110061">061</controlpgno><printpgno>10</printpgno></pageinfo>on the street.  At one time a gang took up with the oldest boy planning, we thought, to use his look of honesty and intelligence in some way for their mischievous ends or to cover some dishonest, perhaps criminal doing.  For this reason, as well as poverty, we decided to place the two older boys in a country school.  This move was a great success and proved what might be done for all these children if they had a good home and proper food, and if all the nervous strain were lifted.  The boys are much stronger, have grown splendidly, and take a high stand in every way in the school.  They are much happier, yet they are always eager to come home for a visit, for there is much love in the family,&mdash;especially for the mother.</p><p>The oldest girl has probably too great a burden upon her.  But she has perhaps the strongest and least nervous temperament of the family, and carries well much of the home work and home troubles.  At present she goes to high school until two in the afternoon and does housework the rest of the day.  Hull-House has always been a factor in these children&apos;s lives, giving them friendship and a sense of another background, when home life seemed dark and insecure.  It has also given them a chance for the use of their talents.  The boys are all talented and have become the leading painters and craftsmen in the school they attend.</p><p>At one time we gave Mr. DeSotto some pottery work to do for the Hull-House pottery classes.  He made jars and vases of real beauty, but it made him nervous to work in the classes among young pupils.  He has an undue amount of Italian pride, and the profits were not great, so he gave up the work.</p><p>The days of idleness and the long winter evenings are unendurable to him, and are made so by him for his family.  Regular employment would save the situation.  Some art handicraft for him might be a help and he could do it well.  If he had a little training he could do beautiful interior decoration.  A good artist recently saw the decorations he has <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110062">062</controlpgno><printpgno>11</printpgno></pageinfo>put upon the walls of his own home and thought them admirable, and asked for one of his paintings for exhibition.</p><p>To sum up, then, here is a man of intelligence, even with some real skill and talent, industrious and willing to work long hours, and his family of unusual promise.  But all are inhibited in every way by lack of money and by Mr. DeSotto&apos;s lack of proper outlet for his own talent and industry.  He will not take bootlegger jobs offered him which will return from $50 to $60 per week.  He is proud, too, for he says he will not pull down his family by &ldquo;dirty work.&rdquo;</p></div><div><head>CASE 4<hsep>Kingsley House<lb>SCHNEIDER<hsep>New Orleans, La.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Ger. parentage) (M. 27); (Irish<lb>parentage) (W. 24)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">5, 3, 1</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Carpenter&apos;s Helper, Building-Wrecker<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>John Schneider had come to the settlement as a child.  He married Mary Malloy in 1923, and they now have three children,&mdash;John, 5; Mary, 3; and Stephen, 1.</p><p>John had finished the 8th grade when he first went to work.  As a school boy, he had been a member of the industrial classes at the settlement, and had shown aptitude in the use of his hands.  He became an expert chair-caner and made considerable pocket-money by re-caning chairs for the neighbors.  He was a member of the carpentry class and did very good work there also.  When he finished grammar school, he was not interested in further education or training, but was eager to get to work to earn money to help himself and his widowed mother.</p><p>In 1919, John went to work as a carpenter&apos;s helper, with a group of men who were employed by a contractor.  He liked his work and felt that in time he had a chance of becoming <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110063">063</controlpgno><printpgno>12</printpgno></pageinfo>a boss carpenter.  His work proved steady and he was much encouraged.</p><p>Mary had been a cigar-maker.  Her day&apos;s work was usually over at 4 p.m., so she had been able to sew for herself and to do many things about the house.  She was the oldest daughter in a large family.</p><p>The young couple secured a modest little half-cottage with two rooms, kitchen and wash-shed.  There was a tiny back yard where the clothes could dry, an alley at the side and &ldquo;box steps&rdquo; in front.  They furnished a simple living room, a bedroom and a kitchen.  There were no savings and the furniture was bought on time.</p><p>When the first baby came, the young couple were ready for the extra expense.  Mary had gone regularly to the maternity clinic and they were able to pay the fee of $15 for the delivery.  John and Mary were very happy, and looked forward to the future with hope and satisfaction.  They paid regularly on their furniture and had gotten rid of all the indebtedness except that on the furniture in the front room.</p><p>A Sunday visit to the neighborhood picture show, a Sunday&apos;s outing in the spring to go crayfishing, spending the day once in a while with relations, made up their schedule for recreation and relaxation.  Visiting from the front steps with their neighbors was a regular social function on sunny winter afternoons.</p><p>In the latter part of 1926, the business depression began to be obvious.  Building programs slowed down.  The contractor for whom John worked cut his force and John was one of those let out.  He secured temporary work with another contractor, but the job lasted only a few months.  For the last two years this story has repeated itself.  John has never secured anything permanent.  He has driven a truck, has worked on the river front trundling a wheel-barrow, has gone from one job to another, with periods of weeks of idleness between jobs.  He worked as an extra hand for the School Board and made five months.  He also went on as an extra at the postoffice, sorting mail during <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110064">064</controlpgno><printpgno>13</printpgno></pageinfo>a rush.  This work lasted for eight nights.  He was paid 65 cents an hour.  He worked on ships scaling boilers, making only two days a week.  This paid $3.75 a day.</p><p>The latest job that John has held has been as a helper in demolishing a building.  He was paid 35 cents an hour.  The day&apos;s work was on a basis of eight hours.  The job lasted nearly four weeks, but gave out six weeks ago.  John has found nothing else as yet, though he constantly walks the streets looking for work.</p><p>The little family has had to retrench.  The neighborhood maternity service delivered the last baby without charge, and furnished the layette, also.  There has been no possibility of saving, except the small amounts paid weekly for insurance.</p><p>The rent has lapsed from time to time during the last two years, but the landlord has always known John and Mary and does not press them, believing that they will pay when they can.  The St. Vincent de Paul Society is helping them regularly, and St. Margaret&apos;s Daughters have paid their rent twice.</p><p>The grocer at the corner carries them in bad months knowing that he will get something as soon as a job comes along.</p><p>Mary could go back to the cigar factory but cannot bear to leave her children either at the day nursery or with her over-burdened mother.  The neighbors run in with a special dish or a bowl of soup, &ldquo;to help Mary out.&rdquo;  One neighbor leaves a pint of milk every day for the children, and Mary&apos;s people lend a hand with a little money when they can spare it.</p><p>Mary and John have not moved, because the only possible thing that would be cheaper than their little house would be space in a rooming house.  &ldquo;I hope we shall never come to that,&rdquo; said Mary.  John&apos;s Aunt Julia, who works in the mill, has the front room that had been the living room.  This helps, for she pays room rent and for such meals as she takes with them.  The noise of the children on <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110065">065</controlpgno><printpgno>14</printpgno></pageinfo>Sundays disturbs Aunt Julia, and this is an added worry for Mary.</p><p>Mary looks thin, worn and tired.  She has lost some of her teeth.  Her clothes have grown very shabby and one of her sisters is sharing her wardrobe with her.  John is shabby, too.  He looks depressed and discouraged.  The children are pale.  The nurse says they are not getting enough milk.  None of the children is gaining as he should.  The Well Baby Clinic is helping Mary to keep the baby fit.</p><p>John seems to have sunk into a state of passive endurance, varied by periods of great depression.  Referring to their previous circumstances, he said, &ldquo;When I look back on those days, and I see what we have come to, I tell you it makes me sick.  Nothing but worry and debts and discouragement.  And when I look at the kids I just get wild.&rdquo;  He looks unceasingly for work, but without much hope.  He feels keenly his responsibility toward those to whom he owes money.  Whenever any work comes his way, he promptly pays something on his debts.</p><p>During periods of depression he talks of the &ldquo;river,&rdquo;&mdash;of how much better off Mary and the children would be without him.  When the cloud becomes very black, John gets drunk.  &ldquo;It lets me forget,&rdquo; he says.</p><p>Mary is worried about the children.  She is tense, nervous, tired and sometimes resorts to &ldquo;nagging.&rdquo;  She takes no recreation.  John is very patient with Mary&apos;s &ldquo;nagging,&rdquo; and says, &ldquo;I don&apos;t blame her one bit.  But what wouldn&apos;t I give to hear Mary singing about the house like she used to!&rdquo;</p><p>&ldquo;I just can&apos;t seem to care about anything any more,&rdquo; said Mary.  &ldquo;I am tired all the time.  It doesn&apos;t seem to matter whether the house is clean or not.  I am glad the children are too young to understand.  I sometimes wonder what we will do if things keep on like this.&rdquo;</p><p>This home has lost its atmosphere of happy security and the very real affection between John and Mary is suffering a severe strain.  Mary&apos;s health is in serious danger of breaking, and John&apos;s morale is impaired.  In telling his story John <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110066">066</controlpgno><printpgno>15</printpgno></pageinfo>said, &ldquo;Now with Mary half-sick all the time and no steady work, it seems as though nothing mattered.  We don&apos;t make any more plans.  We don&apos;t have much hope left.&rdquo;</p><p>The effect of this atmosphere of the home on the children as they grow up can only be surmised.</p></div><div><head>CASE 5<hsep>Roxbury Neighborhood House<lb>MORAN<hsep>Boston, Mass.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 42);</hi> <hi rend="smallcaps">Irish</hi> <hi rend="italics">(W. 38)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">5 ranging from 4&half; to 17 yrs.</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Sheet-Metal Worker<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">deceneralization</hi></hi></p><p>The Morans are a family of seven.  Mrs. Moran came over from Ireland twenty years ago, and after a year of domestic service married Mr. Moran, who is American by birth.  The children range in age from 4&half; to 17 years,&mdash;three boys and two girls.</p><p>Married life started out well enough.  Mr. Moran was a sheet-metal worker, earning $35 a week.  The home was small but comfortable, the children well-clothed and well-fed.  Both parents were healthy, and although the man &ldquo;took a wee nip now and again,&rdquo; he did not drink to excess, and was a good-natured and decent father.  The worst worries of the Morans when they were first known to the settlement at the beginning of their married career were due to childhood diseases and the natural exigencies of everyday life.</p><p>For fourteen years, Mr. Moran was a sheet-metal worker in a foundry in his own city neighborhood,&mdash;one of the main industries of the locality at the time.  There were four fair-sized foundries and two smaller ones.  Mr. Moran worked in one of the larger ones, and held the same job fourteen years.  But gradually the neighborhood changed, and industrial conditions moved four of these foundries, one by one, further away from the city limits to smaller outlying towns.  Mr. Moran did not follow his foundry when <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110067">067</controlpgno><printpgno>16</printpgno></pageinfo>it moved.  For family reasons it seemed better not to.  The older children were getting on well in their school districts and Mrs. Moran&apos;s only relative in this country, an elderly aunt, was living near them and would have been unable to go with them to a new community.  The aunt was in failing health and they did not feel that they could leave her.  In making their decision they had not anticipated any such dearth of employment as that which immediately struck them.</p><p>This all took place five years ago.  Since that time Mr. Moran has had no steady job.  He has worked as a laborer for different construction contractors on a definite job.  Then as soon as a job was finished, he would have great difficulty in securing the next one.  Since January, 1927, he has worked ten months in all, so that a weekly wage of $35 dropped to a distributed weekly wage of little over $10.</p><p>There were no savings.  Unemployment struck them while the family was still growing in numbers as well as in years, and they had saved only through insurance.</p><p>After a year it became necessary for Mrs. Moran to go to work.  Not wishing to leave her children in the daytime she took a job of night cleaning in an office building at $11 a week.  Even though she was a healthy woman, this work has pulled her down to the limit of her endurance.</p><p>The eldest child, Mary, has had occasional work obtained through the settlement or the school vocational department.  Mary is a senior in high school and stands well in her classes.  Work for young girls has been, however, very hard to obtain and the little that Mary has earned has gone into much needed new clothing.</p><p>During the last year it has been necessary to apply to the city for aid, as the only regular income was the mother&apos;s $11.  The city has helped them with $10 in grocery orders, and an income which with employment might have been $35 plus extras, with the mother at home attending to her fair share of the burdens, has been, instead, a meager $21, <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110068">068</controlpgno><printpgno>17</printpgno></pageinfo>with the mother doing a double job, with not enough food, not enough clothes, and not enough recreation.</p><p>The home is very bare.  The piano which was almost paid for had to go back to the instalment house.  Half the parlor furniture went the same way.  It was impossible to replace worn-out furnishings and gradually the home became just a shelter from the elements, containing the barest of essentials, clean, well-kept, but dreary except for the sunshine which poured in their southern exposure.  There has been no question of moving into poorer quarters as they were already in the poorest, but the dream of ten years back&mdash;the little house in a much more desirable district&mdash;has been abandoned so long as to be well-nigh forgotten.</p><p>The home consequences for this family have been much more physical than psychological.  The family as well as the home has suffered depletion.</p><p>Mrs. Moran, who is 5 feet 5 inches tall, weighs a bare 100 pounds.  Eleanor (10), Adam (12) and Richard (5) are seriously underweight from malnutrition.  Adam is undersized as well.  Mary and Frank have not had the strain on their earliest years and seem physically well, though Mary is very thin.</p><p>Three months ago the crisis came&mdash;it had long been dreaded&mdash;and Mrs. Moran became ill, and was ordered by the hospital to take a complete rest flat on her back for one month, and to follow that by very light work for an indefinite period until she was told that she could assume full duties once more.  The trouble was due to strain from lifting too heavy pails of water in her cleaning job.  Her physique finally wore down under the strain.  After two months of rest, with her strength re&euml;nforced, Mrs. Moran went back to work.  &ldquo;I just had to,&rdquo; she said.</p><p>The direct psychological effect has been on the father.  For two and one-half or three years  he has grown discouraged and demoralized by lack of work, loss of self-respect, lack of regular routine, lack of food and the sight of his overworked wife and underfed children.  He goes out three <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110069">069</controlpgno><printpgno>18</printpgno></pageinfo>days a week to work in the woodyard.  The other three working days he goes out to look for work, to re&euml;nforce his waning spirit with a good drink, and above all to be away from home, and the scene of his failure.  He returns only in time to drop into bed.  On Sundays he accompanies the family to church.</p><p>Mrs. Moran has shouldered the burden.  She no longer consults her husband, she no longer blames him.  She sees unemployment all around her.  She does not nag.  Mary has a nice spirit toward the home.  She is young and full of hope.  This June she will graduate and she hopes for a good job.  Frank is said to be lazy.</p><p>The little ones are rather subdued and suppressed.  Sometimes Mrs. Moran&apos;s tongue gets sharp and they feel the  impact.  At other times she is over-indulgent because she has no &ldquo;tone&rdquo; left.</p><p>Mary and Frank being now near working age, the Morans feel that they will be able to pull through if the children can get jobs.</p></div><div><head>CASE 6<hsep>Rus House<lb>RILEY<hsep>New York City, N. Y.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Irish descent) (M. 34; W. 32)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">12, 10, 8, 6</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Laborer<lb>Unemployment Report Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">seasonal slackness, depression</hi></hi></p><p>This is the story of the Riley family, an Irish-American family consisting of four children, ranging in age from 6 to 12 years.</p><p>Thomas Riley was a laborer in a wreckage firm, earning $28.50 a week.  He worked for the same firm about five years.  During slack periods, he sometimes worked as a dock laborer, but always returned to the firm when the slack period was over.  He was well liked by his employers. <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110070">070</controlpgno><printpgno>19</printpgno></pageinfo>While he had no special training for his job, he was ingenious and clever at figuring out better ways of wrecking.</p><p>Mrs. Riley comes from a family who were &ldquo;comfortably off&rdquo; in the days when there were more Irish than any other nationality in this district.  Her grandmother owned a tenement on Henry Street and &ldquo;made more money running it than any landlord who has owned it since,&rdquo; Mrs. Riley states with pride.  But when Maggie refused to better herself by marrying the man her grandmother selected for her and ran off with Tom Riley instead, the grandmother said, &ldquo;All right then,&mdash;but don&apos;t be coming to me and crying when your children are starving and you&apos;re needing shoes.&rdquo;</p><p>&ldquo;As it turned out,&rdquo; Mrs. Riley says, &ldquo;Tom didn&apos;t better himself so much by marrying me!  I&apos;m telling you, I turned out to be nothing but a walking hospital!  Besides the four children, I&apos;ve had as many miscarriages, and two operations and influenza and goodness knows what all!  My grandmother paid the hospital bills as long as she lived, and when she died she left me a little money, but with Tom only earning $28.50 at best, that money didn&apos;t last long.  I took on this job of being janitress of these two buildings so that the rent of these rooms would be less.  Both the owner and his agent have been grand to us.  I don&apos;t know what would be happening to us now if they hadn&apos;t always liked us.  I&apos;ve worked hard all right, but I&apos;ve always kept my children looking nice and I&apos;ve always tried to give them the best food I could.  As long as the money came in at all regularly, I thought I could see my way ahead to keeping them in school and giving them a good education.  My oldest boy is very bright, you know.  I&apos;d like him to go as far as I can push him.&rdquo;</p><p>The wreckage firm failed and went out of business about three months ago.  One of the partners told Mr. Riley that their expenses had long been greater than their income and they couldn&apos;t compete with other large firms.</p><p>Since then, Mr. Riley has scoured the town for job.  He <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110071">071</controlpgno><printpgno>20</printpgno></pageinfo>tried to get work on the docks again, but hundreds of men were there before him and he had let his membership in the dock-laborers&rsquo; union lapse.</p><p>After three months of knocking about, doing errands, following up advertisements in papers and hanging around many agencies, he has been able to earn about $50.  Mrs. Riley has begged her landlord to let her husband do odd jobs of painting in the two tenements to reduce the rent.</p><p>The Rileys had no savings.  They ran into debt and fell behind in the payments on their furniture and insurance.  For a while, Mrs. Riley rather went to pieces and rushed about trying to get help.  Then she made some frantic attempts to get a job herself.  She felt she could not take a full-time job because of the children.  Finally, she got work in a thriving, well-run cafeteria down from eleven to three.  She was paid $9 a week,&mdash;and she did wonders with that $9!  One week she would make a payment on the insurance, the next, on the furniture.  She had the greatest enthusiasm for her work.  She loved the way the cafeteria was managed&mdash;&ldquo;everybody working hard every minute, but nobody being put upon or yelled at or made to feel like a slave.&rdquo;  In a burst of confidence in her ability to earn, she somehow managed to get a loan from the Morris Plan and pay back some money she had borrowed from a neighbor.  Then suddenly The Green Line cut down on the number of people employed and five or six of the newest comers were dismissed,&mdash;Mrs. Riley among them.  In spite of this blow, Mrs. Riley insists that The Green Line is a grand place.  Since then, she has worked at the sandwich counter at the five-and-ten, and at several obscure eating places near the docks.  She received less pay and had longer hours and had to endure many humiliations.  For instance, she had learned several little airs and graces at The Green Line and once, when she asked a group of laborers if they wanted <hi rend="italics">&ldquo;tomahto&rdquo;</hi> sandwiches, they roared at her and one of them said, &ldquo;Will you listen to the broard, puttin&rsquo; on airs!&rdquo;</p><p>She continued to work until a few weeks ago.  Then 8-year-old <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110072">072</controlpgno><printpgno>21</printpgno></pageinfo>Rosie, who had been looking pale and thin all winter, contracted a heavy cold and cough and Mrs. Riley had to stay home to take care of her.</p><p>The Rileys have not been able to keep up their normal standards.  The children are not dressed so well, though they usually look clean.  The family has had to cut down on food and all the children look undernourished.  Rosie&apos;s illness seems to be directly traceable to &ldquo;poverty and makeshifts resulting from unemployment.&rdquo;  The family could not possibly attend to defective teeth or minor operations.</p><p>Mr. Riley has become bitter and nervous and irritable.  He scarcely eats any food at all.  He rushes out of the house at five in the morning and usually comes back disheartened in the middle of the afternoon.  He can not face the problems of bills.</p><p>Mrs. Riley is of a nervous, excitable type, so that it was most interesting to see her actually gain in poise and self-assurance while she was working for The Green Line.  Even now, after Rosie&apos;s illness and the desperate condition of the family finances, there is an eagerness in Mrs. Riley&apos;s eyes when she tries to explain what that experience meant to her.</p></div><div><head>CASE 7<hsep>Hull House<lb>PAVLOWSHI<hsep>Chicago, Ill.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Pol. parentage) (M. 32; W.<lb>about 31)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">4 chn</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Mine-Worker; Worker at Misc. Jobs<lb>Unemployment Reported Due To:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>Two years ago, Mr. and Mrs. Pavlowski and their two children came to Chicago from Pennsylvania.  A sturdy, tall young Pole with frank blue eyes and an engaging smile, he came to this city to seek work less arduous than that in a coal mine and a life with more opportunity than could be found in a small mining community.  For eighteen years <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110073">073</controlpgno><printpgno>22</printpgno></pageinfo>(since he was 12 years old), Mr. Pavlowski had worked in the mines.  His parents had come over from Poland and settled in the coal fields.  The dust and unhealthy conditions within the mine soon made the father ill and he died.  The stepfather was harsh and forced the small Alex, at 12 years, to work in the mines.  His life was indeed wretched.  He feared and dreaded the dangerous, dark and evil-smelling mine, yet he feared the cruel words and lash of his stepfather more.  There never was an oppotunity for school; so Alex grew up without learning to read or write.</p><p>During a strike in the mines two years ago, Pavlowski came to Chicago.  Things went well for a time.  They found themselves a flat and started to buy furniture.  They spent too much, no doubt, but he was young and strong, he had a job and he could hold it, so why not be confortable!  Thus his thoughts ran.</p><p>Soon another baby come.  Well, that was not so bad; he had a good job and, after all, three children were not so many.  He could give them many of the opportunities he had missed.  But the coming of the fourth baby loomed as a problem.  It was a little over a year ago and the company began laying off men.  One day the boss came to him and said, &ldquo;I&apos;m sorry, but I guess we will have to let you go.  I know it&apos;s tough, but there isn&apos;t enough work.&rdquo;</p><p>Continuing the story, Mr. Pavlowski said, &ldquo;I was out of work for three weeks; then I got a job loading ammonia trucks.  It paid about $2 less a week, but I was glad to get it.  It didn&apos;t last but about two months and then the same story, &lsquo;not enough work.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p><p>Then began the daily disheartining tramp for a job.  Every morning at six and sometimes earlier he was out.  His was always a very meagre breakfast, often only a piece of bread, and later there was not even enough of that for him and the &ldquo;kids,&rdquo; so he went without.  This was in winter.  Once in a while, he picked up a job shoveling snow or cleaning snow from the streets.  This helped a little with food, but not nearly enough.  The children began to lose <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110074">074</controlpgno><printpgno>23</printpgno></pageinfo>weight and soon looked pale.  His wife was not well and became more and more nervous under the strain.  The rent was past due two months and the landlady knocked each morning at the door demanding payment; the &ldquo;gas-man&rdquo; knocked; the &ldquo;electric-man&rdquo; came; the furniture collector followed.  A knock became symbolical of their distress.  Then everything fell at once.  First came a five-day notice; then the gas was shut off; then the electricity; then came a telegram demanding a payment on the furniture; then the insurance lapsed.  The groceryman, when he found out that Pavlowski had no work, refused further credit.  When a  notice came from the Renter&apos;s Court, they decided that something must be done, for try the best he could, Pavlowski could find no job.</p><p>His wife then said that she would try to work.  She got a job scrubbing&mdash;this frail, nervous woman weighing scarcely a hundred pounds.  Her wages were so scant that they were almost a mockery.  She was thoroughly disheartened when she heard of the neigborhood settlement a few blocks away.  Her husband and she decided that they could not handle the situation themselves; so she went to call upon the head worker.  They had waited until their supplies were exhausted and some sort of help was a necessity.  They received temporary assistance and were referred to the relief society.</p><p>When the visitor arrived at the home it took very little discernment to see how the retrechments had affected the family.  The little money that had come in had been spent on food and this had been of poor quality, things that filled an empty space rather than nourished a healthy body.  There was no coal and the house was cold and damp.  Candles stood upon the table in lieu of electric lights; the gas had been shut off.  The children were all ill with heavy colds.  Added to this, they were soon to be evicted and there was no money to pay the old rent or the new.  There was only one thing to do and that was to give them finacial relief and assist Mr. Pavlowski in finding a job.</p><p>He came to the district office the next day and every day <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110075">075</controlpgno><printpgno>24</printpgno></pageinfo>thereafter for two weeks.  Each day he set off with a letter to some employer known to the agency or to someone he had thought of.  At last he found a job.  On the strength of this he borrowed enough money to move into cheaper quarters.  But no sooner was he working than the furniture company and the collecting agency for the grocer wrote letters theatening to garnishee his wages.  These matters, however, were attended to on his first pay-day.  On his second, the boss said, &ldquo;I&apos;m sorry, Pavlowski, but there isn&apos;t enough work to keep all you fellows going.  We are trying to keep the old ones, so I guess we&apos;ll have to let you go.&rdquo;</p><p>Another month of unemployment followed.  The last pay was zealously guarded, but it would not last; so they had to ask for more help.  The children were run down and in that condition were susceptible to disease.  All but one became ill with measles.  Before the baby recovered from these, he got pneumonia.  There were many anxious days before it was sure that he would pull through.</p><p>Although he frequently was thoroughly discouraged, Mr. Pavlowski continued an honest search for work and diligently followed any clue that was given him.  He at last found a place by chance.  Of this he says, &ldquo;The woman, she got me this.  She went down to ask the gas company not to shut off the gas again because I didn&apos;t have a job.  There was a fellow standing there and he heard her.  He wrote a name down on a card and told the woman to tell me to go there and I would be put on.  She went with me because I couldn&apos;t even read the names of the streets and I never would have found the place.  Well, I got the job.  It&apos;s loading rubber and believe me it&apos;s hard.  They keep you on the jump every minute.  But I&apos;m not kickin&apos;; I&apos;ll do anything they tell me just so they keep me.  I guess I&apos;m lucky, too.  Some of those fellows only get 28 cents an hour; I get 50.  I guess the man that hired me must have had a family because I told him I had four kids and had been out of work half the time last year.&rdquo;</p><p>During the last year when this unemployment hit the <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110076">076</controlpgno><printpgno>25</printpgno></pageinfo>family, there had been no chance to attend to anything except the search for work.  Only one child was old enough to go to school and since he was only in kindergarten, he was not of much help in bringing his family into closer contact with the community.  As to their health, the mother said, &ldquo;Sure, I knew the children weren&apos;t well and I was sick, too; I never felt good, but we could not afford a doctor.&rdquo;  She laughed when asked if she ever went to a club.  &ldquo;No, I never could do that.  I got all these kids to take care of and I never could afford to go to a club anyway.&rdquo;</p><p>Fortunately, it was possible to enroll Mrs. Pavlowski in a Mothers&rsquo; Club, to register the four children with the Infant Welfare Society and to get the mother to go to a dispensary for an examination.  It was an opportunity for the family, but the infant nurse says that the children are so run-down and so underweight that it will take a long time to regain what they lost last year.  The reports from the dispensary say that the mother is very nervous, fatigued and run-down; &ldquo;it is too bad she did not have attention earlier.&rdquo;</p><p>Yes, it is too bad, but as Mrs. Pavlowski says, &ldquo;Sure, I knew I didn&apos;t feel well, but what can you do when you got four kids and there isn&apos;t a job for your man?&rdquo;</p></div><div><head>CASE 8<hsep>University House<lb>MATTHEW WHITE<hsep>Philadelphia, Pa.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi>  <hi rend="italics">(Irish parentage) (M. 34; W. 35)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">6 ranging from 2 to 12 yrs.</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Truck- and Taxi-Driver<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression, seasonal slackness</hi></hi></p><p>Mrs. White stopped peeling onions for the children&apos;s lunch long enough to say emphatically, &ldquo;If my story can help to keep somebody else from going through what I&apos;ve been through, I&apos;m glad enough to tell it.</p><p>&ldquo;Yes, there&apos;s six children.  Joan&apos;s the youngest, and she&apos;s <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110077">077</controlpgno><printpgno>26</printpgno></pageinfo>two, and Joseph is the oldest and he&apos;s twelve.  I stopped school when I was a year younger than Joseph, so of course I can&apos;t write much and their father can&apos;t either.</p><p>&ldquo;He has always been a driver.  When we married in 1915 he was earning $12 a week and had been working for a firm which delivered coke.  He was with them for six years and then the firm moved out of the city.  He was laid off the 23rd of April and the baby was born in May.  He didn&apos;t get any work until August.  Then he worked for a traction company at $9 a week for one month.  I had typoid fever and the baby died.  He stayed home to be with me for two days and he lost his job because of that.  Then he took sick and I went back to the mill where I had worked before I was married.  As soon as he got out of the hospital he got another job with a taxi company at $15 a week.  He worked six years there.  The men struck for higher wages and he lost his job.  Then he was out for eighteen months, but this time it was because nobody would take on any of the strikers.  There had been some damage to the taxicab company at the time of the strike.</p><p>&ldquo;During this time I went to work again in January and worked till July, and in August our Billy was born.  This time I had a harder job and had to lift heavy boxes; so it&apos;s a wonder Billy ever lived.</p><p>&ldquo;Finally Mat got a job with the Sun Oil Company driving a delivery truck at $25 a week.  He stayed here five years and then had an accident and lost his job and was out four or five months, when he got a job with the Bulletin which he left to take one at the Union Paving Company at $25 a week and he&apos;s been there three years.  He only works in the summer with this company, as they deliver hot tar and they can&apos;t do it in the cold weather.  He was out of work all last winter and all this winter so far.  He does his best to get winter jobs, but hasn&apos;t been able to.  I think we would have starved if I hadn&apos;t been able to get a job cleaning offices.</p><p>&ldquo;When we were first married we started to buy our house.  My <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110078">078</controlpgno><printpgno>27</printpgno></pageinfo>mother, sister and brother live in part of it and they pay half our mortgage, $96 every six months, and part of the taxes, for the rent of the house.  My mother is a real old woman, as you know, and she keeps house for my brother and sister, and it&apos;s separate from us.  My mother helps out when we actually haven&apos;t anything to eat, but last winter both my sister and brother were out of work.  He is a laborer and she works in a factory and there wasn&apos;t a cent coming into the house.  They walked the streets looking for work, but it was a bad spell, as you know.  That was when I came to you last winter about the baby&apos;s milk.  I hated to do it, but I watched those children starving until I felt I could go out and steal it.  I didn&apos;t care what happened to me so long as they got it.  This was the time I couldn&apos;t get work myself.  You remember I worked two weeks and then took sick and then worked two weeks more and took sick again and couldn&apos;t get another job.</p><p>&ldquo;My sister&apos;s work is kind of seasonal, because she works with Hires Soft Drink Company and they work generally from March until September; then she tries to get something else through the winter, but she couldn&apos;t last winter.</p><p>&ldquo;No, I didn&apos;t have any savings to see me through.  You see the $25 he was earning was only on good days, so it didn&apos;t generally mean that much, and with six children, no matter how careful you try, you don&apos;t get far ahead on less than $25.  But I can always manage when the money is regular.</p><p>&ldquo;I didn&apos;t run into debt because the minute the money stopped coming in I stopped the milk and bread and I never did keep a &lsquo;store book.&rsquo;  Of course the insurance went on just the same and the electricity, but I wouldn&apos;t let the family turn on lights enough to run the bill up very much.  I just kept 15 watts in and was pretty cranky and kept them sitting in the dark most of the time!</p><p>&ldquo;Our gas is a twenty-five cents meter and we didn&apos;t have it unless we had the quarter!</p><p>&ldquo;Well, as to the Children&apos;s health, Billy seems to be the <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110079">079</controlpgno><printpgno>28</printpgno></pageinfo>only one that stands up when he doesn&apos;t get enough to eat.  He always looks kind of fat and well.  Harry has been the worst one, but Joan, who was born a healthy baby, nine and a half pounds, went down to four and a half pounds when she was six months old and that was what made me come to you about getting milk.  I just saw Harry and Joan starving to death before my eyes.  Then the first time I ever got a card with &lsquo;malnutrition&rsquo; written on it from the school was after their father lost his $25 job and took one at $21; and then last winter both Margaret and Brother got &lsquo;malnutrition&rsquo; written on their cards again.</p><p>&ldquo;As to having doctors and dentists, of course we can come over to the &lsquo;Club&rsquo; [settlement] whether we have money or not, so being out of work doesn&apos;t affect us much that way.</p><p>&ldquo;Now of course we are just living on what I make.  The children seldom get any meat, perhaps on Sunday if I can manage it, and never any desserts.</p><p>&ldquo;One of the worst things about it is that their father doesn&apos;t drink or &lsquo;carry on&rsquo; when he is working steady.  You wouldn&apos;t want to see a better man.  He gives no trouble at all; just comes in, gets his supper, reads the paper, and goes to bed, or perhaps out to the movies if there is something good.  But when he hasn&apos;t got any work he is out with the gang all day and I never know when he is coming in at night, maybe not until morning and drunk.  I often say, &lsquo;If your friends would give you bread for your children instead of drink, it would be a lot better.&rsquo;  He is awfully ashamed when he isn&apos;t working; he don&apos;t want to see anybody coming in who might know about it and he stays out a lot, and I know he don&apos;t come home often at noon because he wants to leave what food there is for the children.  He quit drinking for six months last year, because I told him what Harry said about him when Harry was in the hospital.  He is only four, but would you believe it, when I came in to visit him he said, &lsquo;Say, Mama, is my daddy drunk yet?&rsquo;  I said, &lsquo;Harry, what did you say that for?&rsquo;  He said, &lsquo;Because I don&apos;t want my daddy to drink.  I want him to get a job.&rsquo;  I felt awful <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110080">080</controlpgno><printpgno>29</printpgno></pageinfo>bad the other day when I heard him say to his father, &lsquo;You dirty bum you, why don&apos;t you get out and get to work?&rsquo;</p><p>&ldquo;I don&apos;t know where he&apos;s heard things like that, but never from our house, because we don&apos;t say that.</p><p>&ldquo;Of course I do scold a lot because I&apos;m cross when I&apos;m worried.  I go out to work at four in the morning and when I get back at nine <hi rend="italics">he</hi> is still in bed and the children dirty and my mother cross from trying to manage them.  I do say a lot of things I guess I shouldn&apos;t, but I don&apos;t eat before I go out and when I get back I would like to sit down and get something to eat and not clean up the little ones first.</p><p>&ldquo;You know how old my mother is and she can&apos;t manage by herself.  I guess I take it out on everybody.  I hardly know myself because there&apos;s no ugly words in our house when he is working and things are going all right.  I can always manage when the money is regular.&rdquo;</p></div><div><head>CASE 9<hsep>Dodge Community House<lb>SCHNABEL<hsep>Detroit, Mich.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Ger.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 39; W. 37)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">16, 6, 4</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Laborer; Inspector; Waiter<lb>Unemployment Reported Due To:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression, seasonal slackness</hi></hi></p><p>The Schnabels have three children,&mdash;Olga, 16; Viola, 6; and Elsie, 4.  The parents were both born in a rural district in Germany.  Mr. Schnabel came to the United States in 1904, at the age of 14, and Mrs. Schnabel came in 1921, and both now have their citizenship papers.</p><p>Mr. Schnabel finished the equivalent to our eighth grade in the public school in Germany.  He has worked in factories at various kinds of &ldquo;labor jobs&rdquo; and later progressed to an inspector&apos;s job.  At intervals, when unable to secure employment in factories, Mr. Schnabel has worked in restaurants as a waiter.  At present, they are living in extremely crowded quarters, in a small house, without a basement, which Mr. <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110081">081</controlpgno><printpgno>30</printpgno></pageinfo>Schnabel built, with assistance, on the rear of a lot.  It is the family&apos;s ambition to live in moderately comfortable circumstances, in a house with at least five rooms and a basement, and to have some music for the children.  They would like just enough money left to have a little recreation, such as going to the club and dancing with their friends, and have a social gathering, once in a while, at home.</p><p>The employment record of Mr. Schnabel is somewhat varied.</p><p>At the age of fourteen, he came to Detroit and worked for a butcher, delivering meat, earning $3 a week plus living expenses.  Later he was employed at the Detroit Stove Works as a helper, earning $7 a week for one and one-half years.  Upon his return to the United States after a six months&rsquo; visit to his parents in Germany, he located in Pittsburgh, and was employed at a bottling works, earning $18 a week for two and one-half years.  He was &ldquo;anxious to travel,&rdquo; so went to New York City and worked as a waiter in a restaurant for two years.  Returning to Detroit, he was employed as a helper at the Dodge Brothers Corporation for $10 to $11 a week, and worked quite steadily for one and one-half years.  He was laid off during slack times, and for six months was unable to find employment, although, he said, &ldquo;I went out every morning early and walked to all the factories, every day receiving the same reply that no help was needed.&rdquo;  He was finally taken on as a grinder at the Stude-baker plant for $20 a week and, with overtime, his pay often amounted to $25 a week.  After eight months of steady work, he was let go because of slack time.  After six months of going through the same experience as the previous year, he was employed at the Michigan Stamping Works as a punch press operator for seven months at $25 a week, but was laid off because of the war.  He then found employment as a waiter, earning $30 a week.  After the war, he returned to Dodge Brothers as an assembler and stayed one year.  At this time, from ill health, which resulted in an operation, he was out of work for six months.  &ldquo;In order to earn big money,&rdquo; he <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110082">082</controlpgno><printpgno>31</printpgno></pageinfo>hired out as a polisher on a night job, earning $11 a night, $66 a week, for one year.  At this time the factory sold out and Mr. Schnabel was again forced to look for another job.  After two months of searching, he was employed at the Detroit Steel Products as an inspector in the Sash Department, earning $27 a week, for three years.  Since then, over a period of four years, he has had a gradual increase in wages and up to the present time is earning $35 a week.  Each year for the past seven years, however, he has lost from two to three months out of the year, because of slack work at the factory.</p><p>The family have always resorted to their savings in times of unemployment.  Because of Mrs. Schnabel&apos;s thrift in managing the household and the far-sightedness of both parents, they have never run into debt.  They have not bought what they could not pay for.  &ldquo;We would rather do without things than to use up all of the savings.&rdquo;  Mrs. Schnabel wanted to work to supplement the income, but because of the smaller children, she could not leave home.  The older daughter has been earning her own living since the age of fourteen, doing housework for other families.  The family has not asked for assistance from any agency, except as part-pay patients in our clinic.</p><p>With their irregular and small income, the family have never been able to reach a really comfortable standard of living in regard to their living quarters and home furnishings.  They have been able to wear only the most practical kind of clothing.  There is no evidence of undernourishment, however.  They are not financially able to pay full prices for the corrective work necessary,&mdash;such as defective teeth and minor operations.</p><p>The Schnabels have not contracted debts of any kind.  Inasmuch as their principle is to live within their means, they have courageously accepted the situation as presented, but are still hoping for better times.  Olga, who is self-supporting, does not seem to mind a great deal having to give up school, for she is domestically inclined.  The home atmosphere is congenial and pleasant.  The mother, however, feels <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110083">083</controlpgno><printpgno>32</printpgno></pageinfo>keenly not being financially able to entertain her friends and attend the club meetings.  In fact, both parents miss the association with their clubs and friends, which they cannot afford.</p><p>&ldquo;If we could have a house with five rooms and a basement, and not have to worry about old age, we would be satisfied&rdquo;&mdash;is the statement made by Mr. Schnabel.  For eight years, they have been trying to enlarge the small house in which they live.</p></div><div><head>CASE 10<hsep>Kingsley House<lb>HANDEL<hsep>Pittsburgh, Pa.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> (<hi rend="italics">Ger. parentage</hi>) (<hi rend="italics">M. 34; W. 34</hi>)<lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">5 yrs. old</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Calenderer in Rubber Factory; Later<lb>Janitor<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression (after giving up job)</hi></hi></p><p>Mr. and Mrs. Handel are of German parentage, both in the neighborhood of thirty-four, both and raised in Pittsburgh.  They were married seven years ago and have one child, a boy, who will be six in the fall.  They have been known to the settlement one year, during most of which Mr. Handel has worked there as janitor.</p><p>Mr. Handel, the only breadwinner, attended a German-Catholic school until he was fifteen and then went to work.  For a year or so he did odd jobs&mdash;learned much about carpentry from his father, worked as helper in a fish store and so forth.  Then he went to Akron, Ohio, to stay with a married sister, was apprenticed as a machinist and later transferred to the shops of the Goodrich Rubber Company.  From that time on calendering in the manufacture of rubber became his trade and with the exception of an interlude for his service in the army during the World War he worked for fifteen years in the Goodrich and Goodyear Rubber Companies.  Here wages were good and he attained fair skill.  From $6 to $8 a day was to be counted on except when times <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110084">084</controlpgno><printpgno>33</printpgno></pageinfo>were slack, and sometimes overtime and piece-work brought his wages to $90 a week.  This more than cared for the weeks during the summers when hundreds of men were laid off.</p><p>The following is their story as Mr. Handel tells it.</p><p>&ldquo;How did I happen to get into the fix I was in when I first come here?  Well, it was this way.  You see we&apos;d been living in Akron.  Yes, I&apos;d been working there in the rubber plants ten years before we was married, making good money too&mdash;$6 to $8 a day and not much time lost in lay-offs.  Sometimes I&apos;d make as high as $90 in a week.  Them was the days we put money in the bank,&mdash;always the missus managed $35 a month and once in a while as much as $50.  Things looked good for us in them days.  We had a swell little apartment, four rooms with heat, gas, electricity and a bathroom&mdash;all for $22&mdash;the likes of which couldn&apos;t be had in Pittsburgh for $50 or $60.  And just one block away was the lake.  How we used to love that lake!  Me and the missus both learned to swim in it and when our little boy was born the missus would take him down there on the shore in the sunshine and you could fair <hi rend="italics">see</hi> him grow.  One of my pals at the rubber works had a car and him and his wife used to take us out driving &lsquo;round the lake evenings, or maybe we&apos;d go down to the amusement park for a good time, or take in a movie.  If the missus hadn&apos;t a got the eczema on her in Akron and took to worrying about it and wanting her folks back here in Pittsburgh, I guess we&apos;d still be there, putting money in the bank and enjoying a bit of civilization.  But it seemed like nothing the doctors did would help her and she just naturally couldn&apos;t stand the itch.  So back we come to Pittsburgh, where both of us was born and raised.  I figgered with a thirteen-year work record behind me there&apos;d be no trouble of <hi rend="italics">me</hi> getting a job in a big city like Pittsburgh.  But right there&apos;s where I got fooled.  There <hi rend="italics">weren&apos;t</hi> no jobs in Pittsburgh&mdash;no regular jobs, that is.  Of course, sometimes I&apos;d get work&mdash;good work I thought would last, like that time the Standard Floor Company hired me.  Me and a lot of others got took on at the same time.  But <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110085">085</controlpgno><printpgno>34</printpgno></pageinfo>would you believe it?  In two weeks we was all laid off again, not for anything we done but because <hi rend="italics">they</hi> run out of work.  And that&apos;s the way it is in this town and the way I had it for a year and a half.  And there was hundreds of men just like me&mdash;dying to work&mdash;willing to do anything&mdash;took on as though for a permanent job and then laid off without any warning or any pay.  Sometimes it would be for a day or two&mdash;like when a cool spell would come and the ice company I was working in turned off forty men till it got hot again.  A lot they cared that those forty men had to pay rent and eat whether people bought ice or not!  If you had a job like that you didn&apos;t dare give it up to look for another, for you might find it even worse.</p><p>&ldquo;Of course even them jobs was better than nothing.  To my dying day I&apos;ll never forget the weeks when I couldn&apos;t find <hi rend="italics">no</hi> work&mdash;not even for a day.  I remember one night when I&apos;d been out of work a whole month and the rent was four months due, one of my friends told me he heard they was hiring men over to Spang Chalfants&mdash;six miles away.  I didn&apos;t even have the price of a car check and I&apos;d borrowed all I had the nerve to&mdash;and more&mdash;from my relatives.  So I got up the next morning before five o&apos;clock and walked all the way over there across the river without any breakfast&mdash;only to be told at the mill that they hadn&apos;t taken on a man in three months.  I pretty near jumped off the bridge on my way home that day.  If it hadn&apos;t been for the wife and kid I guess I would have.</p><p>&ldquo;How did we live all that time?  Like pigs&mdash;only with not so much to eat.  Do you know that little lane in the Hollow under the Meadow Street bridge?  Perhaps you&apos;ve never got down that far.  You can&apos;t drive a car down there for the mud and you&apos;re apt to lose your rubbers in half-a-dozen places, the walking&apos;s so bad.  Well, up that lane in back of Monte&apos;s house there&apos;s a shack&mdash;not much better than a shed, with two rooms, nothing else&mdash;no heat, no gas, no electricity and <hi rend="italics">no water.</hi>  For four months we lived there&mdash;if you can call it living.  An oil lamp and an oil stove was all we had for <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110086">086</controlpgno><printpgno>35</printpgno></pageinfo>light and heat.  We had to use an outside &lsquo;privy&rsquo; toilet and get all our water from a sink in our neighbor&apos;s cellar.  We was there through the winter and spring and I&apos;ve never known such dampness.  It was there my Paul got pneumonia.  He&apos;d been getting thinner and thinner since we moved back to Pittsburgh&mdash;I suppose because we couldn&apos;t give him milk and the right food.  He got a bad cough that stuck to him all winter and then one specially bad wet spell it went right into pneumonia.  I pretty near went crazy to see him lying there so still and hot and me with no money to get a doctor.  If my wife&apos;s cousin hadn&apos;t told us then about the settlement I don&apos;t know what we&apos;d &lsquo;a&rsquo; done.  We&apos;d never had to ask for charity before and I didn&apos;t know nothing about the public health nurses or the city doctor.</p><p>&ldquo;Well, I guess you know the rest.  Maybe Paul&apos;s illness was for the best after all, for soon after he was getting better, the settlement gave me my job as janitor.  That was a year ago and things has been getting better ever since.  In another year I&apos;ll probably get clear o&rsquo; debt&mdash;I owed $500 at one time&mdash;and then I can begin to think about getting out of the Hollow and into a decent neighborhood.  Of course a hundred a month ain&apos;t much compared to what I made in Akron and when the kid gets bigger it&apos;ll seem less and less.  If he ever gets a little brother or sister like he ought to have it&apos;ll sure go fast.  As it is now we don&apos;t go places much, only once in a long while to a movie.  But then for eighteen months we never went <hi rend="italics">no</hi> where.</p><p>&ldquo;I don&apos;t know what the future&apos;ll hold for us.  If I stick to this job we&apos;ll get along, but we&apos;ll never advance after a certain point.  But how can I face another time like them eighteen months with nothing steady to tie to and debt and starvation always just around the corner?&rdquo;</p><p>It is hardly necessary to supplement Mr. Handel&apos;s story; but we would like to mention our feeling as to the future for this family as we see it.</p><p>At present their child is being brought up in the worst mud-hole in Pittsburgh.  Smoke, dirt and dampness greatly <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110087">087</controlpgno><printpgno>36</printpgno></pageinfo>impede his physical development and the depressing surroundings must undoubtedly leave their mark.  A move to higher ground is contemplated when the debts are paid, but his most impressionable years are being spent in a very undesirable physical environment.</p><p>As the child grows older the drain on the family budget will, of course, increase.  Mr. Handel will have to face squarely the conflict which is even now in evidence&mdash;to choose whether to remain in steady, low-paid employment or chance again the devastation of unemployment for short periods of high wages.  The fear instilled into him by those eighteen months has gone deep, however, and he is more than likely to say &ldquo;stay put&rdquo;  and keep his family&apos;s development curtailed within narrow limits.  His experience has hit hard at his courage to face the future.</p></div><div><head>CASE 11<hsep>Family Service Society<lb>REUTER<hsep>New Orleans, La.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Ger. parentage) (M. 36; W. 31)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">7 ranging from 8 yrs. to 6 mos.</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Bag Factory<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>The first task to which Hilda set herself when she married Herman Reuter was to teach him to read and write.  They were young and earnest and determined to make good.  Herman had had to go to work before he could learn a trade, but in fifteen years at the bag factory he had worked himself up to the position of sorter, earning $18 a week.  In some hands $18 might not be productive of much comfort but in Hilda&apos;s it worked wonders.  Their home was clean, their furniture was good and they had been able to achieve something near their ideal of right living.  Besides this, incredible though it may seem, they had several hundred dollars in the bank and they prided themselves on being respectable susbtantial people.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110088">088</controlpgno><printpgno>37</printpgno></pageinfo><p>Then there came a decrease in the demand for bags, and all of the bag factories in the city operated one or two days a week.  Herman tried to find employment in other bag factories, but the same conditions existed everywhere.  He tried other factories and other work,&mdash;carpentry and a long-shoreman&apos;s job.  With the exception of a few days as long-shoreman, he has failed to find steady employment in any of these fields during a two-year search.</p><p>Instead of $18, at times he has made only $3 a week and has worked about one-third of the time during 1927 and 1928.</p><p>After Herman began to work irregularly, the family spent its savings and then the real struggle began.  They have never been able to pay tne rent when due and are in constant fear of being evicted.  They have planned several times to move to smaller quarters, but as the landlord trusts them and they have not had the funds with which to move, they have stayed in the same house.  Their insurance policies have lapsed.  At last Hilda and Herman have run into debt.  Their gas and electricity have been turned off.  Hilda, although half sick and with seven small children, has attempted to do outside housework.  Often there has been nothing to eat in the house.</p><p>Herman&apos;s health has begun to fail, and although he is not stong enough he insists upon doing longshore work when he can find nothing else.  He walks the streets in all kinds of weather, hoping that he may find an odd job of some sort.  He never rides on the street cars, but walks even when he is working.</p><p>He goes to the factory day after day, hoping that he will get a few hours&rsquo; work.  He has talked to his employer many times, explaining the home situation and asking again and again for any work that might be done.  He shows eagerness to find other types of work and is willing to do anything.  When requesting work or aid he tells his story with simple dignity without becoming emotional or over-emphasizing the suffering of the family.  He meets his bill collectors himself, <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110089">089</controlpgno><printpgno>38</printpgno></pageinfo>not leaving them to Hilda, and explains the situation to them and tells them that he is willing to do anything that he can to get work.  He reminds them that when he was steadily employed he always paid his debts with promptness.</p><p>Hilda has shown much courage and co&ouml;peration.  She sympathizes with her husband, encourages him to look for work, and does not blame him when he is unable to find it.  She economizes to an almost unbelievable degree and at the same time she keeps the house neat and attractive.  But in spite of her determination the strain is telling on her.  She is losing control of her emotions and says she feels so bewildered that she can&apos;t think logically.</p><p>The children make her nervous and the eldest child has become a serious behavior problem.  He lies, runs away from home, beats the other children in the neighborhood and misbehaves in school.  He has gone from one school to another but has been unable to make a satisfactory adjustment although many methods of treatmet have been attempted.  It has been impossible to discover the cause of this child&apos;s conduct, but it is quite probable that the strained home situation and Hilda&apos;s changed attitude have aggravated his condition.</p><p>The family is now receiving help from a religious society and from our agency.  Unless conditions improve, Hilda and Herman are considering placing the children in an institution.</p></div><div><head>CASE 12<hsep>Irene Kaufmann Settlement<lb>DEMACIO<hsep>Pittsburgh, Pa.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Assyr. descent) (M. 40; W. 38)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">3 ranging from 3 mos. to 8 yrs.</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Asst. Pipe-Cutter; Then Laborer<lb>Unemployment Reported Due To:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">mechanization</hi></hi></p><p>The DeMacio family consists of the father, mother and three children, whose ages range from three months to eight <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110090">090</controlpgno><printpgno>39</printpgno></pageinfo>years.  The parents are American-born, Assyrian descent, and prior to their marriage, Mrs. DeMacio lived in the settlement district for about fourteen years.  She was always interested in the settlement and its activities.</p><p>Before his marriage, Mr. DeMacio was employed as assistant to a pipe-cutter in one of the mills, and earned $40 per week.  His wife, a high school graduate, was employed by the city at $18.50 per week.  After their marriage, the husband had managed to save enough of his earnings to purchase a modest home of six rooms and bath on a side street for $6,000, of which $3,000 was paid in cash and $3,000 carried on a first and second mortgage.  Mrs. DeMacio gave up her employment and devoted all her time to her home, which was comfortably furnished.  The family occupied the three rooms on the first floor and rented out the three rooms on the second floor for $25 per month.  With the rent and the husband&apos;s earnings, the family was able to maintain itself comfortably.  For recreation the couple frequented concerts and good plays.</p><p>About eighteen months after their marriage, Mr. DeMacio lost the job he had held for five years, owing to the fact that modern machinery was installed in this particular department, thereby reducing the number of men.  Three men were now able to do the same amount of work that ten men did before.  He was out of regular employment for about six months.  However, occasionally he managed to secure a day&apos;s work in his neighborhood.  About this time, the first child was born.  With the rental and an extra day&apos;s work, the family managed to meet its living expenses, but not the interest, taxes, insurance, light and heat.  Later, Mr. DeMacio secured two months&rsquo; employment at laboring work, earning $4 per day.  Doing outside work, he was often obliged to lay off for a day or two in winter owing to bad weather conditions.  The earnings of these two months met part of their accumulated bills, but then Mr. DeMacio found himself out of employment again.</p><p>The mother now decided to place her child in a nearby <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110091">091</controlpgno><printpgno>40</printpgno></pageinfo>day nursery and go out canvassing for women&apos;s apparel, taking orders.  The father secured work for a few days at a time, but not steady work, although he was willing to do anything that was offered to him and at any wage.  After several months&rsquo; canvassing, however, Mrs. DeMacio&apos;s physical condition necessitated her remaining at home.  The family then decided to try the grocery business.  In order to secure enough money for the initial outlay, they borrowed all they could on their life insurance.  Mrs. DeMacio pawned her diamond engagement ring, and sold the living-room furniture.</p><p>Their former standard of living was &ldquo;shot to pieces.&rdquo;  The living room was used for the grocery store and the family lived in two rear rooms of their house.  Taxes and interest on the mortgage were again in arrears.  The mother&apos;s health was beginning to show the financial strain and worry.  She contracted pneumonia and was admitted to the hospital for several weeks and a few months later a second child was born.  For these extra expenses, plus the interest and taxes, the mortgage was raised to $4,500.  The grocery store was not a financial success owing to the lack of care and the fact that it was on a side street with competition around the corner, so creditors closed the store.  One year later, the mortgagors foreclosed on the property and the family lost everything they had, including furniture&mdash;the latter on a judgment.</p><p>About this time, Mr. DeMacio secured what seemed a steady laboring job, and the family moved into rented quarters in a cheap neighborhood, paying $20 for two rooms.  Necessary furniture was secured from an instalment house and for seven months the family was apparently slowly recovering from the financial crisis,&mdash;when Mr. DeMacio was laid off.  The mother again took up canvassing, stating that she could &ldquo;make enough for the table for the children.&rdquo;  A few weeks later a third child was born.</p><p>When they were unable to meet the payments on the furniture and to pay the rent, the instalment house seized the <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110092">092</controlpgno><printpgno>41</printpgno></pageinfo>furniture belonging to them, leaving only mattresses, broken chairs and a hot plate in the house.  A distant relative advanced $75 for their rehabilitation and secured employment for the father.  The mother placed all the children, including the new baby, in a day nursery and again resumed canvassing for two days a week.</p><p>Mr. DeMacio is now depressed and discouraged from poverty and insufficient nourishment.  He is physically below normal weight.  He has lost all interest in the home, feels that no effort is worth while and life is not worth living.  Mrs. DeMacio frankly stated that were it not for the children, she would leave and never return to this city,&mdash;perhaps elsewhere it would be better.  She is run down, nervous and irritable, and says that they have frequent quarrels in the home although her husband is doing all he can.</p><p>Opportunities for development have been curtailed.  In Mrs. DeMacio&apos;s words,&mdash;&ldquo;I haven&apos;t had money for a newspaper for two years.  We had to give up all our recreation, not even to go to a movie and you know how we both like good music.  I often wonder will we ever be able to get back to our own home, or will we get old and have nothing at all to show for our struggle.&rdquo;</p></div><div><head>CASE 13<hsep>Ellis Memorial<lb>PETTI<hsep>Boston, Mass.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Fr. parentage) (M.34);</hi> <hi rend="smallcaps">Engl.</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">(W. 32)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">13, 12, 9, 7, 3</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Plumher<lb>Unemployment Reported Due To:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>Mrs. Petti was born in Nova Scotia of English parents.  She was a woman of more than average intelligence, was very thin and frail, and her special hobby was an active working membership in the Ladies&rsquo; Auxiliary of a well-known fraternal organization.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110093">093</controlpgno><printpgno>42</printpgno></pageinfo><p>Mr. Petti was born in Massachusetts of French parentage.  He was a steady, sober, reliable man, but less alert mentally than his wife.  He was a plumber by occupation and his wages were $42 weekly.  Out of this he kept from $3 to $5 weekly, for fares, lunches and smokes.  There was no other family income.</p><p>The four children of school age went to the public schools.  They were bright children and got along well in school, although the two younger ones were delicate.</p><p>The family lived in five rooms on the ground floor of a modern three-family house in good residential section of the city.  The home was nicely furnished and included a radio and piano.  Mrs. Petti, although not stronger, always kept her home neat and orderly.  The rent was $35 monthly.  Mr. Petti also had a small car.</p><p>Mr. Petti at one time had been in business for himself as a master plumber, but because of his inability to compete with larger companies was forced out of business, and had to seek employment.  But at this time he had no difficulty in finding work because of his known ability and reputation as a good workman.  He was engaged by one of the largest plumbing concerns in the city, first at a salary of $35 weekly, and later this was increased to $42.  He was often sent out on the more difficult jobs and frequently as a foreman; his reputation with his employers was excellent.</p><p>But with a general business depression, trade became very slack and Petti&apos;s fellow-employees were laid off in groups of threes and fours.  At last it came his turn and he was laid off in the middle of one week and paid $20 which was due him up to that time. This was the first time in more than three years that he had returned home with less than $38.</p><p>Then for more than eight months, he was unable to secure employment.  During this period he was occasionally engaged by neighbors to do small plumbing jobs.  His income from these averaged from $4 to $6 weekly.  Some weeks he had nothing to do.</p><p>Up to the time Mr. Petti was laid off, Mrs. Petti had <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110094">094</controlpgno><printpgno>43</printpgno></pageinfo>been able to save about $200.  This fund was soon exhausted.  It then became necessary to dispose of some of the household articles; the automobile was sold first and later the piano.</p><p>As he was unable to pay his rent, the family was ordered out after an arrearage of two months.  In the meantime, seeking other quarters, he found an old small wooden house in an undeveloped section of the city.  This house had been vacant for a long time and needed considerable repairs.  As Mr. Petti was quite a handy man he made an agreement with the owner to make the necessary repairs himself on condition that he would be allowed two months&rsquo; rent at the rate of $18 monthly.  The landlord agreed to this and the family moved in while the repairs were being made.</p><p>On the arrival of the first rent day, which was the end of their second month&apos;s stay, the family was unable to pay the rent and Mr. Petti&apos;s mother loaned him the necessary amount.  From that time on Mr. Petti&apos;s mother and other relatives actually supported the family, and later, the mother-in-law took the two younger children to live with her.  The local  O. P. W. and Soldier&apos;s Relief Department were appealed to, but they took the stand that relatives were aiding and that they should continue to do so.  Later Mrs. Petti appealed to her lodge and was allowed $5 a week for a period of ten weeks.</p><p>At first Mr. Petti hesitated to accept aid, but necessity compelled him to.  As time went on he accepted it as a matter of course and became dependent upon it.  His strong  self-reliant manner gradually gave way to dependency, despondency and later to complete discouragement.</p><p>Mrs. Petti, although never strong, neglected herself in order that the three children who were with her might have proper nourishment. One day she was compelled to go to bed as a result of a hemorrhage from the lungs.  The City Doctor was sent for and diagnosed her condition as tuberculosis.  The County Tuberculosis Society was appealed to and a nurse was sent daily to the home.  Two of the remaining <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110095">095</controlpgno><printpgno>44</printpgno></pageinfo>three children were later taken by Mr. Petti&apos;s parents, the older one being left to help his mother.</p><p>Mr. Petti at last became entirely indiffirent to conditions at home and his mental faculties seemed to have become completely dulled.  He commenced to visit more often the homes of people in the neighborhood where there was mine, and he finally took to drinking.</p><p>As a result there were frequent quarrels at home between Mr. Petti and his wife and in many of these the boy took part.  The latter was puzzled at first about his father&apos;s actions, but as time went on, he began to lose all respect for his father and actually ran to hide at the latter&apos;s appearance in the home.</p><p>Mr. Petti commenced to talk to himself and several nights his wife and child were awakened by his shricks.  He seemed to be possessed with the idea that there were burglars in the house.  One day, he was seen by some neighbors jumping from roof to roof in the district.  The police were notified; the father was apprehended and immediately committed to the Psychopathic Hospital, where he died in three days.  The medical examiner stated his death was due to exhaustion brought on by delirium tremens.</p></div><div><head>CASE 14<hsep>Chicago Commons<lb>POPOWSKI<hsep>Chicago, Ill.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Austr.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. &amp; W. about 35)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">6 ranging from 4 mos. to 10 yrs.</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Laborer<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression, seasonal slackness</hi></hi></p><p>The Popowskis came to the United States from a small village in Galicia (Austria), when they were about twenty.  Soon after their arrival in Chicago, about fifteen years ago, Mr. Popowski secured work in a coal yard, where he worked for three years until the company went out of business.  For <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110096">096</controlpgno><printpgno>45</printpgno></pageinfo>the next two years he worked at various unskilled jobs, never making more than $25 or $26 a week.  He never learned English, although he says he wanted to go to night school but was always so tired at night from his work that he went to bed shortly after supper.</p><p>Six years ago he was out of work for nine months, having been laid off from the factory where he had been employed as a coal passer, because during the warmer months only a small shift was retained.  During this period his wife went to work on a farm on the outskirts of the city, leaving the oldest of her six children, a girl of ten, in charge of the four-months-old baby.  Though she left home at four in the morning and did not return until seven in the evening, she was not able to make enough to keep the family from debt and getting behind with the rent.  During the summer Mrs. Popowski has for several years worked on the farms to supplement her husband&apos;s small and often irregular earnings.</p><p>About five years ago Mr. Popowski was employed as a laborer by the railroad, where he has worked until the present time, making at first $3.30 a day and later $3.50.  But often there is employment for only three or four days a week so that his pay check has sometimes been under $15.  This has been particularly true in the last eighteen months.  The family has discontinued buying milk.  The death of a baby recently is in all probability due to insufficient food and the exhaustion of the mother from farm labor before the baby&apos;s birth.  The youngest child developed rickets recently and was sent to the Crippled Children&apos;s Hospital.</p><p>Mrs. Popowski says her husband drank occasionally when they were first married but only in the last year or two has he been drunk.  And now he drinks almost daily and worries and quarrels with her and the children.  At other times he sits and broods over his inability to get another job and the debts they have incurred because of his small <hi rend="italics">income.  She has just had a serious illness and fears she will</hi> not be well enough to go to work on the farm this summer.  The children have become terribly afraid of their father and <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110097">097</controlpgno><printpgno>46</printpgno></pageinfo>one of the boys has been sleeping away from home because of the way his father acts at home and the oldest child is extremely nervous.  Her mother believes that her father&apos;s yelling at her has caused this.</p><p>The whole family looks undernourished and nervous and where five years ago there was domestic harmony, today there is friction and fear, all,&mdash;Mrs. Popowski is sure,&mdash;because her husband can not get a steady job where he can make a big enough wage to adequately support his children.</p></div><div><head>CASE 15<hsep>The Lighthouse<lb>GRAHAM<hsep>Philadelphia, Pa.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> (<hi rend="italics">W. 32</hi>)<lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">9,6</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Textile-Worker<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">business depression</hi></hi></p><p>Mrs. Graham was the sole support of her two children,&mdash;a son, 9, and a daughter, 6.</p><p>We first knew this family when Mrs. Graham placed her two children in the day nursery.  At this time she was making an average of $35 to $36 a week, which placed her among the most highly-paid women workers of the community.</p><p>We found her to be rather delicate in health, but intelligent and capable and eager to give her children every advantage possible.  She had started to buy a little six-room house through a Building and Loan Association and was without any difficulty meeting her expenses.  The house was plainly furnished but always neat and clean and there was a pleasant home atmosphere.  The children were rather delicate, especially the daughter, and it was sometimes necessary for Mrs. Graham to lose time from her work on this account, but even so she was able to get along comfortably and keep out of debt.</p><p>One of the largest Turkish towel factories in the neighborhood <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110098">098</controlpgno><printpgno>47</printpgno></pageinfo>had moved, about that time, to the south in order to reduce to minimum the cost of production.  In the early summer of 1927 textile work in Philadelphia began to be irregular.  The orders came in so slowly that one would be completed before another had arrived.  Mrs. Graham began to lose a day now and then.  The depression increase and soon she was losing one and two and three days a week.  She began to find it increasingly difficult to meet her obligations and to continue living in the comfortable way to which she had grown accustomed, but the climax was reached when two of her four looms were taken from her.  This cut in half the money she had received for those days when there was work.  These two looms, together with others, are now standing idle and where there were formerly sixteen weavers employed there are now but four.  Mrs. Graham tells me that she would have been laid off altogether had not a generous young man in the room asked to go in her place because he was single and she had a family to support.</p><p>Mrs. Graham soon fell behind in her Building and Loan payments, taxes, water rents, etc., and was in danger of losing the house.  She was obliged to mortgage it, and the interest increased her burden.  Finally, to avert disaster, she decided upon the plan of renting the house, keeping just one room for herself and children and getting her breakfast and supper with the tenant.  She finally found a tenant willing to make this arrangement and was happy in the thought that she could now clear off her indebtedness, but unfortunately the famaily turned out to be of such character that she was obliged to ask them to leave and she was, again, thrown on her own resources.  Subsequently, however, she did secure a young couple who were willing to rent her upper story and who did remain several months, during which time she kept from going any further in debt and partly cleared off the old debt, but they have now gone and she has not been able to rent the rooms to anyone else.  She is falling behind again and is losing heart.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110099">099</controlpgno><printpgno>48</printpgno></pageinfo><p>Some relief in the nature of food, clothing and coal has been given by the settlement.</p><p>Standards were necessarily lowered.  There was over-crowding,&mdash;the nine-year-old boy occupying a room with his mother and sister.  Clothing became very shabby and Mrs. Graham was compelled to spend as little for food as she could possibly get along with.  Fortunately, the children, who were delicate, procured most of their meals in the day nursery and therefore did not suffer from lack of food.  The mother, who is of a nervous emotional temperament, admitted to the visitor that she often did not eat enough but maintained it was because she had &ldquo;lost her appetite.&rdquo;</p><p>It was found necessary, despite the nursery care, to place the little girl at the Children&apos;s Seashore House for part of the summer.</p><p>Mrs. Graham has faced her situation with a great deal of fortitude.  She does not ever mention giving up, although she sees no prospect of increased prosperity during the coming summer.  She is moody at times and when talking over the situation with the visitor, weeps frequently.  She dislikes the crowding and is less interested in keeping the house neat and tidy.  She is somewhat less companionable with the children; the boy does not find the interest at home that he formerly found and is more apt to be away when the visitor calls.  He also dislikes the crowding and is moody and silent.  There is not the old pleasant atmosphere.</p><p>The depression has had a more disastrous effect upon Mrs. Graham than upon the children, who are too young to feel the consequences keenly.  They are protected to a certain degree by the day nursery from experiencing any physical harm.  Mrs. Graham&apos;s nervous energy is being completely used up and her children&apos;s future opportunities for an adequate education are in jeopardy.  Mrs. Graham was happy and content under the old conditions; physically she was strong enough to work a full day and her mind was at peace; she slept well at night and had no fears for the <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110100">100</controlpgno><printpgno>49</printpgno></pageinfo>future.  But that is all changed now.  Her physical health shows signs of breaking under the mental strain.</p></div><div><head>CASE 16<hsep>Family Service Society<lb>MONTEREY<hsep>New Orleans, La.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Lat. Amer.</hi> (<hi rend="italics">M. 52</hi>); <hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> (<hi rend="italics">W. died 1927</hi>)<lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">18, 13, 9, 7</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Painter and Carpenter, Later Boiler-Scaler</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">Eldess son also boiler-scaler</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression and mechanization</hi></hi></p><p>Mr. Monterey is 52 years old and was born in Central America of Spanish parentage.  Mrs. Monterey was born in one of the country districts of Louisiana.  She died in the summer of 1927.  There are three boys, aged 18, 9 and 7, and one girl, 13.</p><p>The family first came to our attention in August, 1927.  At that time both Mr. Monterey and his son were working irregularly for a boiler concern.</p><p>The father had worked for several years as a boiler-scaler and prior to that had been a painter, carpenter&apos;s helper and sailor.  Rudolpho, the eldest son, had completed the grammar grades and studied the trade of boiler-scaler under his father.</p><p>Before unemployment, the family lived in comfortable surroundings and although they were not able to afford luxuries, Mr. and Mrs. Monterey and the children were not deprived of any of the necessities.  Because the parents did not approve of street play for the children and the seeking of amusements away from home, they endeavored to make the home as pleasant as possible and encouraged the children to invite their little friends to visit them.  They often gave little parties at which the friends were present.</p><p>The father and Rudolpho became unemployed at the time <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110101">101</controlpgno><printpgno>50</printpgno></pageinfo>of the general business depression.  The firm for which they were working laid off over half of the workmen.  This concern still gives day&apos;s work to the Montereys whenever possible, since the foreman considers them excellent workmen.</p><p>The installation of machinery in Mr. Monterey&apos;s line of work has also been a cause of his unemployment.  He has been without steady work for almost two years.  The day&apos;s work which he and his son secure now and then in one of the ship-building yards pays from $3.30 to $3.80 a day, but it is extremely irregular.  The father and son applied from place to place for employment, always taking their working clothes with them in the event that they might secure work.</p><p>During the period when they were both regularly employed the family income was between $40 and $50 a week.  They earn now as little as $3 or $4 a week and many weeks not even this much.</p><p>In telling his story, Mr. Monterey said:  &ldquo;In the past eight months I was only able to get two days&rsquo; work a month.  Then I got a job filling at the West End, at the rate of 40 cents an hour.  I used to work twelve and thirteen hours a day.  I worked forty days steady work and made $196, which was barely enough to cover my debts.  From that date in August until the present date, I have not had a steady job.&rdquo;</p><p>This period of unemployment has had serious effects upon the family&apos;s financial arrangements.  The family became burdened with rent and a grocery bill.  In an effort to meet these debts, Mr. Monterey pawned articles of clothing, sold almost all of their furniture and moved from place to place in search of cheaper rent.</p><p>The family is now living in a somewhat undesirable neighborhood near the river.  Mr. Monterey does not feel that the present location is a good one, but it is only $7 a month and within walking distance of several of the big ship yards and he hopes that his children, who have not presented problems in the past, will not be influenced by the many undesirable forces in their present environment.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110102">102</controlpgno><printpgno>51</printpgno></pageinfo><p>The family has been forced to drop all insurance policies.  About a month ago, the 13-year-old girl had to stop school, although she is making an effort to study at home as much as possible.</p><p>Mr. Monterey was given a small amount of relief at one period during his unemployment.  He requested this money as a loan because he does not like to ask for charity.</p><p>The family has not been able to keep up their usual standards of health.  The children&apos;s diets are not sufficiently varied to insure proper growth.  Two of the children are undernourished and quite delicate.  They also do not have adequate clothing.  The children have had no winter coats or sweaters and in cold weather have gone to school without such clothing.  The little girl, America, is obliged to wash several times a week in order to keep the family in clean clothing and underwear since their supply is so limited.</p><p>The rooms contain practically nothing but the necessary beds.  A short time ago when neither father nor son had work for weeks, the two little boys went to the market where they picked up scraps of meat and cast-off vegetables for the family&apos;s food.</p><p>Mr. Monterey has faced the family&apos;s predicament with a great deal of courage.  He has made valiant efforts to meet some of his debts and tries diligently to secure work.  He seems to be reaching the breaking point, however, and has begun to feel that his situation is almost hopeless and eventually he will be forced to break up his home and place the children in an asylum.  Such thoughts greatly upset him and he states that he is almost afraid to think of the future.</p><p>America, who has forced to stop school, does not seem bitter or antagonistic.  She is studying at home, so that she will be able to keep up with her class, as far as possible.  It was one of her great ambitions, as well as that of her father, that she might at least complete the grade school.</p><p>Unemployment has practically curtailed the family&apos;s opportunities for securing relaxation and recreation.  There is no money for books or shows.  The victrola, which was one <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110103">103</controlpgno><printpgno>52</printpgno></pageinfo>of the children&apos;s chief forms of recreation, has been sold.  All of the children, especially the daughter, are fond of music.  The little girl had hoped to be able to take violin lessons from one of her father&apos;s friends, and the lessons were to be free.  America has, however, since abandoned the hope of this because she now knows that her father cannot afford to buy her the instrument.</p></div><div><head>CASE 17<hsep>Irene Kaufman House<lb>SILVERMAN<hsep>Pittsburgh, Pa.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi>  <hi rend="italics">(Jewish) (M. 25; W. 23)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">2, 1</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Dispatcher in Department Store<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression, mechanization, negro competition</hi></hi></p><p>As a young girl, Sarah Silverman (now 23) was known to us through our dancing and sewing classes.  She was recognized as one of the ablest as well as one of the best dressed girls of the neighborhood and only the bravest boys of the house dared ask her &ldquo;out.&rdquo;  Soon after high school graduation, Sarah obtained employment in a high-grade department store where her native abilities were given an opportunity for full play and where she soon became buyer for her department.  Sarah then began receiving men callers in her now Americanized and modernized home and soon the wedding bells rang for her and Harry.</p><p>Harry (now 25) was in charge of all transportation vehicles in the same department store, a big heavy-set fellow, who, with only a public school education and a natural bent for mechanics, was commanding a good salary and had already saved enough to furnish a modest home.</p><p>The couple rented a three-room apartment in a middle-class neighborhood.  Sarah left her position and within a year Beatrice was born.  The increasing cost of living, plus the <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110104">104</controlpgno><printpgno>53</printpgno></pageinfo>expense of hospitalization, made it very difficult for the Silvermans to settle their accounts, but Sarah&apos;s father, who himself was having a hard time making a living from his old-fashioned tailor shop, presented the baby with $100 and thus the Silvermans were enable to clear themselves for a time.</p><p>Four months after the baby&apos;s advent an efficiency expert was called in to reorganize the company&apos;s varied departments and as a result Harry, who had worked there twelve years, lost his job.  For five months he walked the streets, finding only occasional day&apos;s work as a butcher&apos;s helper or huckster in the produce yards.</p><p>The grocery bill accumulated; the milkman threatened to cut off the supply, and it was only with her father&apos;s help that Sarah managed to pay her rent and gas bill.  The insurance lapsed, and a few of the things they were buying on the instalment plan were lost.  The family lived mostly in one room, and this was cluttered up as it had never been before.  Only dire necessities for the table were bought, and Sarah made and remade old clothes.  Harry was growing more generally abusive and intolerant and had it not been for the fact that Sarah was pregnant again she would have left him.  When he first lost his job he was very eager to go about in search of employment, but as day after day brought him no results he became very discouraged.  Sarah became quite nervous worrying over the bills and there were serious quarrels between them.</p><p>Jacob was born in their own apartment with only a neighbor in attendance in order to save expenses.  Harry, who had now obtained a job as taxicab driver, was working between twelve and sixteen hours a day, and rarely saw his family.  But Harry&apos;s job was doomed to be a short one, for he met with an accident, through no fault of his, which cost him his job.  And now the hunt began all over again.  His inability to procure work of any kind brought the family to the most strained circumstances and brought Sarah&apos;s father <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110105">105</controlpgno><printpgno>54</printpgno></pageinfo>into the settlement office to complain most bitterly of his daughter&apos;s pride which did not allow her to seek aid.</p><p>The children were constantly ill, and Sarah was advised that they were not getting proper food.  Sarah has not allowed herself a single luxury for a year and would not even allow herself to be taken to a movie.  She stated that if things kept on as they had been she could see no reason for living, she would break up her home, find some place for the children and become independent herself.  She realizes that her husband&apos;s unemployment is not his fault, but she says she cannot help him.</p><p>Through a local employment bureau Harry was assisted in obtaining employment in a store and at the present time the family is slowly beginning to pay off their accumulated debts, and the domestic situation between Sarah and Harry has become less tense and strained.  Harry, however, is fearful that his job may be short-lived.</p></div><div><head>CASE 18<hsep>King Philip House<lb>AMAY<hsep>Fall River, Mass.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Fr. Can.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 42);</hi> <hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(W. 38)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">13, 11, 10, 7, 6, 4&half;, 2&half;</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Truck-Driver; Milkman; Now Minor<lb>Worker in Mill<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>&ldquo;When we got married, almost fifteen years ago, my husband had a good job and $300 or $400 in the bank.  When we had three children, we was getting on fine and had $3,000 in the bank.  Now, we have seven children.  We are broke.  We haven&apos;t got a cent, and we don&apos;t see no better times ahead.&rdquo;</p><p>As Mrs. Amay spoke, the tears kept coming.  This family has been known to the settlement since the first baby was <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110106">106</controlpgno><printpgno>55</printpgno></pageinfo>born.  The two oldest girls are registered in sewing and cooking classes and the oldest is in the Music Club.</p><p>Continuing, the mother explained, &ldquo;My husband was delivering for a baking company when we got married.  It was the first company in the city to wrap its bread.  He was getting $30 a week and 2 per cent commission.  Sometimes, during the war, he brought home $65.  It was a good job.  After the war, the 2 per cent was cut off.  Business was not so good.  The baker let three of his own brothers go.  Then his own son learned to drive the truck.  Then he cut my husband down to $25 a week.  Then he had to let him go.  He was the last man dropped and he had worked in the place sixteen years.</p><p>&ldquo;While my husband was working for the baking company we bought a little store and paid $95 for the stock.  We added $150 worth of stock but did not have to pay for thirty days, so didn&apos;t have to take any money from the bank.  We paid $7 a month for a little tenement in the back.  From the store we lived.  We took the money from the drawer to pay all expenses and every week when my husband brought home his pay, I went right down town and put it all in bank.  We made $1,000 in 11 months, but the cellar was damp and the doctor told us it was not a fit place to live.  He made us move.</p><p>&ldquo;We went to look for a tenement.  Everywhere we went and they found we had three kids they didn&apos;t want us.  Finally, we found a little old tenement with four rooms for $2 a week.  We stayed there three years.  We had $3,000 in the bank.  We asked a contractor if we could build a little house for this much.  He said we could and we borrowed $3,000 from the bank and the bank holds the mortgage.</p><p>&ldquo;We decided that it would pay to build a garage for rent.  My husband got the gravel, sand, and cement.  A man let him take a machine and after a day&apos;s work he would come home and make cement blocks.  In the spring he made the foundation and built the walls.  He bought second-hand doors which took three weeks&rsquo; pay.  He borrowed from the <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110107">107</controlpgno><printpgno>56</printpgno></pageinfo>bank the money to buy the big wood and paper for the roof of the garage.</p><p>&ldquo;After he lost his job with the baking company, he went into business for himself.  He had made friends on the route.  He knew the customers and for the first year he made good.  The second year business was not so good.  Customers who had always paid cash asked for credit.  They had always traded with him and he couldn&apos;t refuse.  They couldn&apos;t pay because they were out of work.  The next year was worse.  More customers were out of work or working only part time and others moved away.  Seven people owed us $100 for bread.  He was not collecting enough each week to pay his bills.</p><p>&ldquo;He sold out his business for $100 and went to work for a milkman.  He delivered milk and did a lot of other work.  His hours was long and the work hard.  He got $25 a week and was promised more.  When he asked for a raise, after seven months, he lost his job and it was given to a man who would work for $20.</p><p>&ldquo;When he was working on the garage he injured himself lifting the heavy logs.  The doctor told him he would have to go under an operation.  All the time he kept getting worse.  When he lost his job with the milkman I made him go and see the doctor again.  The doctor told him he must have an operation and the quicker the better.  So he went to the hospital.  He was there twenty days and was not able to work for almost three months.</p><p>&ldquo;And I didn&apos;t tell you about my being in the hospital.  When my sixth baby was born, we had lived in the new house just two months.  Four weeks later I went under an operation for appendicitis.  I was in the hospital thirteen days and every morning and every night my husband brought the baby to me to nurse.  Two weeks after I got home a mad dog killed thirty-two chickens and thirteen rabbits.  The damage was $65 and the State allowed us $45.</p><p>&ldquo;Between my first three babies I worked sometimes in <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110108">108</controlpgno><printpgno>57</printpgno></pageinfo>the mill.  I am a weaver and could make good pay, and my mother would mind the kids.  When my husband was having hard luck in business I went into the mill again and my money paid the expenses for a while.  I wasn&apos;t feeling good and the doctor at the mill sent me to the hospital for examination.  For two months I went for treatment and then had an operation.  I was in the hospital twenty-one days and this bill was covered by the sick benefit in the mill.  The doctor wouldn&apos;t let me go to work again and says I ought soon to go under another operation, but how can I?</p><p>&ldquo;Right after Christmas my husband got a job in the mill.  It doesn&apos;t amount to anything hardly.  If he works a full week all he gets is $18 and he has never worked a full week.  One week he brought home $16, but no other time over $12 or $13.  We can&apos;t live on that.  This morning my milk didn&apos;t come from the Catholic Charities and I think the time has run out.  I don&apos;t know what we are coming to &mdash;what we are going to do.&rdquo;</p><p>Through a district nurse, who called at this home just for a friendly word, this mother first told her story of need.  This was just before Thanksgiving, 1928.  &ldquo;We had never asked help from no one.  We could not bear to let anyone, even our own people&mdash;and they couldn&apos;t help us anyway&mdash;know of our trouble.  But when the children needed food we had to tell someone.  The nurse came in and found me crying and so I told her.  She sent me to the Catholic Charities and they have been good to us.  They gave us $6 a week for quite a while.  They sent me to the city and the city gave us an order for $6 worth of groceries every week.  The children had no money to buy books; so the priest came to see us.  At Christmas time he gave us several dollars.  The nurse told me to talk to you&mdash;you know what the settlement has done since&mdash;we would have had nothing but potatoes but for the Thanksgiving dinner you sent.  And, you sent that big Christmas dinner, too, and got shoes and rubbers for all the children and gave us things to make over <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110109">109</controlpgno><printpgno>58</printpgno></pageinfo>for clothes.  People have been kind.  I don&apos;t know what we could have done all winter without this help.</p><p>&ldquo;We owe the hospital $175 for the time my husband was there.  We owe a $100 store bill.  We owe a hardware bill of $54, and still owe $18 for gravel. The garages have not paid because in winter the street is so bad no one wants to drive their cars in and in summer they had as soon keep them in the street.  Three or four families in our neighborhood who had cars have moved away because they had no work.</p><p>&ldquo;Our gas bill went so long that they told us unless we paid they would shut it off, so we had to take money for that.  We have spent hardly a nickel for clothes ever since we were married.  My mother gave me a lot of things that I made over for the children.  Friends have given me things and in this way I have always kept the children clothed.  Then, the woman who runs a fruit store used to give me fruit which she could not sell, and I would put up half for her and half for us.  Then she would get a piece of goods and say, &lsquo;Make a dress for your girl and one for mine.&rsquo;  This has all helped.</p><p>&ldquo;Just the other day, I asked the doctor if I could go to work.  He said, &lsquo;No, you are not fit even to do the work you do.&rsquo;  Just the same, if I can get a job, I will have to.  What can we do&mdash;we can&apos;t let the children starve!  My husband is getting all discouraged.  He always has worked.  He wants to work.  I am willing to work.  We don&apos;t want to owe nobody nothing.  We want to pay our bills.&rdquo;</p><p>We would like to supplement Mrs. Amay&apos;s story by a few observations which she has not mentioned here.  The parents are looking forward to the oldest girl&apos;s fourteenth birthday so that she may get a &ldquo;school card&rdquo; and go to work.  In the home, while there is fairly good co&ouml;peration, both parents are more or less irritable.  Neither of them is in good health, and both are very anxious over the financial situation.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110110">110</controlpgno><printpgno>59</printpgno></pageinfo><p>The oldest child had been taking violin lessons for about a year.  With the reduced income, the mother told the teacher that the lessons must be discontinued.</p><p>(<hi rend="italics">Note:</hi>  Since this record was received, word has come of the death of Mrs. Amay, leaving a week-old son.  The 14-year-old girl is caring for the baby and four of the other children, and the others have been placed in an institution.)</p></div><div><head>CASE 19<hsep>Kingsley House<lb>BROUSSARD<hsep>New Orleans, La.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Fr. descent) (M. 49; W. 45)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">22, 20, 18, 16, 14, 12, 10, 8<lb>6, 4</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Manager of Sugar Plantation; Later<lb>Mill Foreman<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">business vicissitudes (failure of plantation)</hi></hi></p><p>Gustave Broussard is an Acadian descendent of French peasants who came to Louisiana from Canada.  Amelia, his wife, is the daughter of a Frenchman and a Spanish woman who came to Louisiana and married here.</p><p>There are ten children:<lb><list><item><p>Henri<hsep>22 years</p></item><item><p>Sylvestre<hsep>20 years</p></item><item><p>Maurice<hsep>18 years</p></item><item><p>Hortense<hsep>16 years</p></item><item><p>Joseph<hsep>14 years</p></item><item><p>Eug&eacute;nie<hsep>12 years</p></item><item><p>Hermine<hsep>10 years</p></item><item><p>Elsie<hsep>8 years</p></item><item><p>Susanne<hsep>6 years</p></item><item><p>&Eacute;tienne<hsep>4 years</p></item></list></p><p>Mr. Broussard was foreman of the dye room in a big mill when the settlement first made the acquaintance of the family.  The two eldest sons were also working in the same mill.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110111">111</controlpgno><printpgno>60</printpgno></pageinfo><p>The third son had just earned enough money to buy an outfit and pay his way to a religious academy in Missouri, where he went to study for the priesthood.  He is of no expense to the family while there.</p><p>The younger children are all at school, save the baby &Eacute;tienne.</p><p>Hortense finishes high school in June and is very ambitious to go to normal school and become a teacher.</p><p>Joseph will finish high school next year.  He hopes to get work this summer.</p><p>Their home, a tiny little house, for which they pay $25 per month, is very inadequate for so big a family.</p><p>Mr. Broussard, when he first married, was overseer on a big sugar plantation.  He supervised and controlled the several hundred men and women employed on the plantation.  After four years, he became the manager and held this position until 1921.  So for 20 years he was in the employ of one man.</p><p>As manager of the plantation he received in cash $125 a month, but there were many perquisites.  He had the use, free of rent, of a big comfortable house, set in the midst of moss-hung live oaks.  He had the use of two riding horses, five fine cows, all of the feed that he needed for the stock, including his chickens, geese, pigs and ducks.  He was granted a gardener and yardman.  With the opportunity thus afforded to raise almost all of his food Mr. Broussard considered that he received the equivalent of a salary of $250 a month.</p><p>The family had two cars, a Hudson and a Ford.  The latter was used by the children in going to school and also by the family for errands of various sorts.</p><p>The children had a wholesome life doing such chores, out of school time, as feeding the chickens and pigs, picking up the eggs, etc.  They had many pets and a row boat which they used on the Bayou.</p><p>Mr. and Mrs. Broussard shared their competence with less fortunate neighbors.  It was their habit to send their surplus milk, eggs, and vegetables to families where there <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110112">112</controlpgno><printpgno>61</printpgno></pageinfo>were many children and a small family income.  It never occurred to them to sell any of their farm products.</p><p>In 1921 the plantation failed.  The cane borer had been making greater and greater inroads on the sugar yield.  The owner of the plantation had embarked on a tremendous program of expansion, involving the purchase of the adjoining plantations and large investments in machinery.</p><p>When the crash came, everything went under the hammer.  Mr. Broussard found himself without a job.  He had $6,000 in savings.  He moved to another town, and with a friend as a partner, opened an automobile store.  They invested heavily in expensive cars.</p><p>After two years, the business failed.  A subsequent law suit wiped out practically all of what remained of the $6,000 savings.  The Broussards found themselves well-nigh penniless when they arrived in the city and took possession of the little house in the settlement neighborhood.</p><p>Mr. Broussard secured the position of foreman of the dye room at the mill.  His two oldest boys also secured work there.  Mr. Broussard held this position only a few months.  He was the last foreman to be taken on and when it was necessary to retrench he was the one to be let out.  The mill superintendent gave him a very fine recommendation, but it availed him little.  He has had only a few temporary jobs and his earnings have been <hi rend="italics">very</hi> small and irregular.</p><p>The oldest boy left the mill after a year for a better job with a house that sells automobile parts.  He gets $21.50 a week.  The younger son is still at the mill, where he gets $10 a week.  These two boys bring home every cent of their earnings.</p><p>The change from the free, comfortable life of the plantation to the small cramped house in a crowded city neighborhood is a tragedy to the older Broussards.  The younger children are less conscious of the change and its meaning.</p><p>Mrs. Broussard, a very tiny creature, has gone down from <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110113">113</controlpgno><printpgno>62</printpgno></pageinfo>120 to 89 pounds.  She does all of the housework, including the laundry, with the help of the older children who are not at work.  She turns and makes over, dyes and freshens up, clothing handed down from older to younger children.</p><p>The children are always clean and tidy.  One never sees a hole in the stockings or an unmended rent in clothing.  No relief has been asked by this family.</p><p>The family standards have been lowered as to kind and quantity of food and clothing.</p><p>Their quarters are crowded; they get no recreation save what the settlement and the school offer.</p><p>Mrs. Broussard looks very thin and worn.  The younger children are pasty looking, as though they did not get right kind of food.</p><p>When one of the workers at the settlement took over some things where the material was good and suggested that Mrs. Broussard make them over for the children, she was overjoyed.  &ldquo;Now,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;that will give me a little more money to spend for food.  I won&apos;t have to buy the dress for sister that she needs so badly and I can make a coat out of this skirt for Susanne.  I will dye some of these things and you must come and see what I make of them.  The boys must look well when they go out.  They bring in the money and I just can&apos;t see them wanting things that they should have, but with so many children we can&apos;t stretch their money all the way to cover food, clothes and rent for all of us.&rdquo;</p><p>Mr. Broussard is terribly discouraged.  He is beginning to feel that because he is no longer a young man he will not be given a chance to prove that he is an excellent worker.  He says:  &ldquo;Look at my boys; they are fine boys, I say it with pride!  But they can&apos;t give to a job what I can give, yet they get jobs and I am passed up.&rdquo;</p><p>Mrs. Broussard is very devoted to her husband, but she is beginning to wonder if he really is trying as he should to get work.  She can&apos;t understand how a man who has held <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110114">114</controlpgno><printpgno>63</printpgno></pageinfo>the position that he held should be so long without work.  She is worried about the boys&rsquo; having to assume the entire burden of the family.  She feels that they will soon be wanting to start out for themselves&mdash;perhaps marry, and she feels keenly the burden that is being laid upon them.  The older boys, however, are very loyal.  They want to keep things going and to help Hortense fulfill her ambition to go to normal school.  Mr. and Mrs. Broussard are not sure that it is right to accept this from them.  If Hortense got a job this summer she could assume a part of the financial responsibility.  Hortense says if only she can qualify as a teacher, she can make more and be a bigger help to the family than if she does not get this extra preparation.</p><p>There is a very fine feeling of family pride and mutual respect that has been builded into this family.</p><p>It is this feeling that is proving a bulwark against untoward conditions, against the temptations to slip down ever so little in one&apos;s standards of decency and personal conduct.  They are all struggling to live up to what they feel should be their standard of life and personal conduct.</p><p>Undoubtedly unemployment has made it much harder for the children of this family to have opportunities for development.</p><p>They cannot take advantage of much in the way of community benefit.  They have only a very limited amount of recreation or relaxation.  Their efforts are all bent on keeping up some appearance of decency and well-being and on living up to their family standard.</p><p>Speaking of their future hopes, Mrs. Broussard said:  &ldquo;We both pin our hopes on the children.  They are good children.  We know that they will do their part as they grow older.  But we want them to have some life of their own.  If these two older boys, and after a while Hortense, and Joseph, get and keep good jobs, we are going to get along&mdash;but oh, my poor husband!  He just can&apos;t see them doing what he ought to do.  We both want them to have some young life, <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110115">115</controlpgno><printpgno>64</printpgno></pageinfo>their own life.  They just cannot if they are faced with the responsibility of providing for all of these little ones!</p></div><div><head>CASE 20<hsep>East Side House<lb>WALTHER<hsep>New York City, N. Y.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Hungar.</hi>  <hi rend="italics">(M. 35, W. 30)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">1 son aged 5</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Army Officer in Hungary, Misc. Unskilled<lb>Worker in America<lb>Wife:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">nurse&apos;s training in Bohemia; nursing<lb>&amp;sewing in America</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression, oversupply of unskilled labor</hi></hi></p><p>Henry Walther, reared on a farm in Hungary, had risen, while still a young man, to the rank of colonel in the Hungarian Army.  In his own words, he said, &ldquo;I had a body-servant to clean off my spots and brush my &lsquo;hohe Stiefel&rsquo;, and nothing to do but boss my men.&rdquo;  He speaks four languages fluently, and English brokenly.  After the war, Hungary became part of Czecho-Slovakia.  A new army was organized in which the erstwhile colonel would become a mere lieutenant.  He talked things over with the Bohemian girl to whom he was engaged, and they decided that if a new start must be made, it should be made in America.</p><p>Their present home is a small three-room flat in a poor tenement-building, brightened with spotless white curtains and shining oil-cloth, furnished with a few precious and well-chosen possessions, all of which are kept in a state of absolute perfection.  There is a five-year old son, Emil, a handsome dark-eyed child who clicks his heels and bends nearly double when his mother tells him to say &ldquo;how-do-you-do.&rdquo;  The Walthers have at last achieved success in a simple way, but it is still insecure, and they have passed through hardship and suffering.  Mr. Walther says, &ldquo;If anyone had told me, ten years ago, that I would ever do what I do this day, I would not believe him.&rdquo;</p><p>Arriving in America in 1922, they went to Cleveland, <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110116">116</controlpgno><printpgno>65</printpgno></pageinfo>Ohio, where Mr. Walther secured employment with a battery company.  A few months later 35 per cent of the employees, including Mr. Walther, were laid off, and as he could find no other work in Cleveland, the pair drifted into Pennsylvania, trying their luck in several small towns where he took anything that offered, driving a grocer&apos;s wagon, picking apples, etc.  In March, 1923, they came to New York.  Here Mr. Walther&apos;s first job was with a packing house where he stayed for two years at $19-$20 per week, until an illness lasting two months cost him his job.  There followed four months without work.  Then came a better year, as superintendent of a small moving picture company, at $30 per week, but this company went out of business.  The following ten months were the most difficult time of all for the Walthers.  Mr. Walther (to quote his own words) &ldquo;would find a queue of 300 men waiting for every job for which I applied.&rdquo;  He was willing to take anything; for a few weeks he did have a job as bus boy in a restaurant in Brooklyn earning only a few dollars.</p><p>As soon as it appeared that no job was in prospect, the family moved at once into poorer quarters where the rental was nearly cut in two.  Mrs. Walther, who had been doing part-time work in order to help make ends meet, now undertook a full-time position.  She had worked on underwear at home and has assisted in the settlement day nursery where she could be with or near her boy.  Now she went on 12-hour night duty at a hospital making use of two years&rsquo; training she had had in Prague; in this way she was able to keep up her home and take care of her son during the day.  Several months of this were followed by a nervous breakdown and a month in a hospital.  Both parents believed in protecting the boy, whatever the cost to themselves; he is the only member of the family who shows no sign of having suffered privation.</p><p>Last June relief came in the form of employment for Mr. Walther as head porter in an office building at $25 per week.  Mrs. Walther has part-time work nursing an invalid. <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110117">117</controlpgno><printpgno>66</printpgno></pageinfo>They have repaid a relief loan made by the settlement and are slowly paying off small debts to friends.  Both attend English classes at the settlement; Mr. Walther is about to become a citizen.  They are ambitious, willing to work, and anxious to get on.  But as Mr. Walther says, &ldquo;you never can tell when the building will be sold and everybody thrown out.&rdquo;  A ghost which will not be laid!</p></div><div><head>CASE 21<hsep>Highland Park Community Center<lb>DEMASSI-LOMBETTI<hsep>Detroit, Mich.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Ital.</hi>  (<hi rend="italics">M., Paul Lombetti, cousin of DeMassi;<lb>W., widow of DeMassi</hi>)<lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">of DeMassi&mdash;ages in 1924, 12, 9<lb>8, 6, 3, 6 mos.</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Laborer</hi> (<hi rend="italics">DeMassi</hi>)<lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Automobile Factory Worker</hi> (<hi rend="italics">Lombetti</hi>)<lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">general depression</hi></hi></p><p>This is a history of the DeMassi-Lombetti family,&mdash;a Sicilian family, unschooled and unskilled, who came to this country in 1912, coming to Detroit from Chicago in 1920.  DeMassi, a laborer, expected to procure more lucrative employment at the Ford factory.  He worked fairly steadily until 1921, when he became ill of tuberculosis, and died in 1924, leaving his widow, 41 years of age, and six children:  a boy of 12; girl of 9, one of 8; boy of 6, girl of 3 and an infant of six months.  The oldest boy was born in Italy, but the remaining children were born in this country.  At the time of DeMassi&apos;s death, the family had acquired an equity of $500 in a home which they were buying on a land contract of $7,200.  Three months after DeMassi passed away, Paul Lombetti, a cousin, married the widow,&mdash;believing it to be his duty to care for his deceased relative&apos;s family.  Paul was ten years the widow&apos;s junior, and also an unskilled laborer.</p><p>At this time he was a Dodge factory employee and things <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110118">118</controlpgno><printpgno>67</printpgno></pageinfo>went fairly well for nearly a year after the marriage.  Then he was laid off and was idle for several months, then taken on for half-time, and then for an intermittent spell given a day&apos;s work now and then.  He was obliged to ask for odd jobs in order that the family might eat. In the latter part of 1926 and first part of 1927, the general depression, especially in the auto factories, the chief industry of Detroit, brought calamity to this family.  Excerpts from our records give some idea of their situation:<lb><list><item><p>&ldquo;July 28, 1926&mdash;Dismissed from Dodge plant, his department closing down.  Wrote Dodge Bros. asking for his reinstatement in another department.</p></item><item><p>Aug. 1&mdash;No work yet&mdash;gave him letter to Ford&apos;s.</p></item><item><p>Aug. 11&mdash;Still no work&mdash;gave him letter to Chevrolet Company.</p></item><item><p>Aug. 16&mdash;Gave him letter to Chrysler Company.</p></item><item><p>Sept. 1&mdash;Gave him letter to Dept. of Public Works.</p></item><item><p>Oct. 4&mdash;Children in&mdash;cannot go to school for lack of shoes, clothing&mdash;everything needed.</p></item><item><p>Oct. 12&mdash;Mother in asking for clothing and shoes.</p></item><item><p>Oct. 13&mdash;Gave new shoes to three children.</p></item><item><p>Nov. 4&mdash;No work yet&mdash;gave letter to Fisher Body Company.  Florentino (oldest boy) to get work after school in neighborhood grocery&mdash;wages to apply on their grocery bill.</p></item><item><p>Oct. 5&mdash;Turned down everywhere&mdash;family morale completely broken&mdash;home bare and drab&mdash;man becoming abusive.&rdquo;</p></item></list></p><p>The home is now months in arrears of principal and interest and taxes.  The pressure of the grantor is causing much concern, and foreclosure is threatened.  The upper flat (rented at $35 a month, which had heretofore helped to meet the monthly payment of $55, is now vacant.  This family, also affected by unemployment, moved out owing <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110119">119</controlpgno><printpgno>68</printpgno></pageinfo>several months&rsquo; rent.  As the house is now in very bad repair, it is difficult to find a tenant.  The family owes several grocery accounts and their credit has been cut off in one or two places.  No savings had ever been accumulated because all of the wages had to be taken for the necessities, even when on full-time employment.  The mother, needing both physical and mental treatment, had been entered at the Ann Arbor University Hospital for thirty-five days&rsquo; observation.  The St. Vincent de Paul Society was caring for the children during her absence from home.  Upon her return from the hospital she was better physically, and somewhat improved mentally.  All her teeth had been removed during her stay there and the recommendation made that new teeth be procured for her; meanwhile she should be given special diet as prescribed by the hospital.  With the very meagre relief being given by the city, it was impossible to nourish the family properly.  During all this time the settlement has been providing clothing, shoes and many other comforts, Christmas cheer, warm underwear and bedding, but insufficient funds have made it impossible to furnish the real needs of this family.  Lombetti, during all this time, has been a good worker, when work was obtainable.</p><p>Former standards in this family were impossible to attain.  A request for new teeth for the mother was turned down by the city since it had no funds for this purpose.  The home was becoming more and more bare of furnishings and there was a terrible lack of proper nourishment.  Constant quarrelling, lack of co&ouml;peration and a general breaking down of moral standards were apparent.  To feed this large family only $8 per week was available&mdash;the allowance of the public charities.  The children go to school after a breakfast of a heel of dry bread and black coffee and return in the middle of the day to the most frugal meal&mdash;and at night see the father returning despondent, worn out from walking from place to place seeking employment&mdash;to a meal of potatoes or macaroni, dry bread and again black coffee.  The mother, dragging herself around, the diet prescribed by the <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110120">120</controlpgno><printpgno>69</printpgno></pageinfo>hospital quite impossible to obtain, and with her troubled mental attitude, was always ready to attack her husband as a &ldquo;poor provider.&rdquo;</p><p>The wage-earner&apos;s attitude towards his family problems during this period was at first one of careful solicitude.  He made every effort to meet the situation courageously.  He had a very buoyant disposition and seemed to feel that just as soon as he got work he would be able to discharge all his indebtedness.  His records show no complaint ever being made of his work and he seemed willing to undertake anything offered to him.  Gradually, all this changed and he would sit for two or three hours waiting patiently for &ldquo;something to turn up.&rdquo;  He would come to this office and complain that the world was against him,&mdash;that no one took any interest in him any longer.</p><p>The attitude of the entire family followed along this same line.  The mother&apos;s attitude entirely changed, and she became abusive toward her husband,&mdash;and he toward her.  The children no longer showed any respect for their parents and were rude and disobedient.  We knew of no bootlegging, or gambling&mdash;but in juvenile delinquency, two of the boys, within the past two years, have come under the ban of the law.  Florentino, the oldest child, is now confined in an industrial school for driving away an auto&mdash;his excuse being that he wanted to see the world.  Bernie, a boy of nine, a truant from school and given to pilfering, is now on probation to the Juvenile Court.  No trouble of this sort occurred in this family up to two and a half years ago.</p><p>With the wolf at the door and creditors threatening, no chance for development, recreation, or social contact could be had.</p><p>An echo comes from the industrial school at Manchester,&mdash;the boy writes his mother, &ldquo;Be brave, Mother, and tell the kids to be brave.  I am to be taught a trade&mdash;something I always wanted to do&mdash;and then I&apos;ll come out and help support the family.&rdquo;</p><p>Since this record was made up, the following information <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110121">121</controlpgno><printpgno>70</printpgno></pageinfo>has been secured.  The family is to be evicted within the week and the children placed by order of Juvenile Court in the hands of St. Vincent de Paul Society.  The mother is to go to an infirmary.  In August there will emerge from Manchester a boy of 17 years, who will find the home gone, his mother away and his sisters and brother scattered.</p></div><div><head>CASE 22<hsep>University House<lb>JENKINS<hsep>Philadelphia, Pa.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Irish parentage) (M. 20; W. 28)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">7, 5, 6 mas. (twins)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Rooper<lb>Unemployment Reporting Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Mrs. Jenkins, as we sat making arrangements for special treatment for the baby at the hospital, &ldquo;my husband has only been out of work for a month this year.  He&apos;s a roofer and they laid off a lot of men where he works, &lsquo;cause there wasn&apos;t work enough.  A month ain&apos;t so long, I know, but still when you have four of &lsquo;em to feed you get behind quick.  There&apos;s the two boys, seven and five, besides the babies to take care of, and boys do eat.  We had some money, about $60 in the bank, left from the insurance of my little girl, who died last June.  This lasted me until now.  I haven&apos;t any bills except a milk bill for one week for the babies&rsquo; milk.  You know it&apos;s hard to get credit at a store when they know your man ain&apos;t workin&rsquo; and you can&apos;t blame &lsquo;em.  They&apos;ve got to take care of themselves.  Still, Frank seen his boss yesterday and he said he&apos;d take him back this week and keep him on account of him being such a steady worker.  If he hadn&apos;t, I guess we&apos;d had to go back and live with my mother-in-law again, same&apos;s we did last year.</p><p>&ldquo;When he came home and told me he had got a promise of his job back, I was so pleased I could hardly believe it.  I says to him, &lsquo;Now we can give the children an Easter basket.&rsquo;  He says, &lsquo;I&apos;m glad too, but if I hadn&apos;t been working <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110122">122</controlpgno><printpgno>71</printpgno></pageinfo>they&apos;d had to done without.&rsquo;  He does love them children.  Goes right to the babies&rsquo; crib when he first comes in and then plays with the boys just like another kid, but he won&apos;t run into debt, even for them.</p><p>&ldquo;This year was lucky compared to last year.  Last year Frank had rheumatism; so when they didn&apos;t have enough work to keep every one busy, he was one of the first to be laid off.  He was out four months.  Things got so bad then we went to live with his mother.  She was good to me all right and gave me everything for the children, and her husband, he gave us shoes for all the children, and him only a stepfather, too.</p><p>&ldquo;But living with someone else ain&apos;t the same as having your own little home, even if they are good and kind to you.  I hope I never have to give up my home again.  And Frank, when he&apos;s out of work, gets so irritable,&mdash;won&apos;t cat and can&apos;t sleep and is on pins and needles all the time.  He travels around mornings hunting for work, and hates like everything to come home and say he couldn&apos;t find any.</p><p>&ldquo;He loves them kids and plays with them all the time, except when he&apos;s out of work.  Then he won&apos;t play with them, but just says all the time.  &lsquo;Don&apos;t bother me, don&apos;t bother me.&rsquo;  And of course the kids don&apos;t undertstand why he&apos;s so different.</p><p>&ldquo;Last year my little girl died of measles and pneumonia.  The doctor said that she was too weak to stand against it.  I couldn&apos;t help feeling that if he&apos;d been working all winter she&apos;d have been stronger and maybe not died.  But of course you never know about them things.</p><p>&ldquo;Maybe if Frank and I had had more education we might have got along better.  I only went to the fourth grade and then left to go to work and Frank he went through grammar school.  I only wish I had the chance to go back again!  My little boy is going through high school, I can tell you!  He&apos;s going to get the chance I didn&apos;t have and Frank feels the way I do about it.  If only someone had told us then what an education meant,&mdash;but perhaps we wouldn&apos;t &lsquo;a&rsquo; listened.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110123">123</controlpgno><printpgno>72</printpgno></pageinfo><p>&ldquo;Before I was married I worked in the mill, and last year when he was out of work I worked there again because my mother-in-law watched the children for me.  If I can find someone to watch them for me this year I&apos;ll go back again, because I want to get something put away so&apos;s we won&apos;t have to worry so if he gets out of work next winter.  But my mother-in-law is in Jersey now so she can&apos;t watch them and you can&apos;t trust everyone.  Of course, the twins, they are a care, but Jimmie, the second boy, is the worst.  He&apos;s always on the street and I would be worried all the time for fear he might get run over.  Tom, the older one, is in school, so he can&apos;t help watch Jimmie.  But I got to think of some way.</p><p>&ldquo;When we was just married we had a bigger house, but when the money stopped coming in regular we had to move into this one and it&apos;s all right.  Of course it ain&apos;t fixed so pretty, but we can&apos;t buy any more furniture and we won&apos;t run bills.  We have a radio and at night Frank and I just sit and listen to the radio and talk.  He&apos;s good to me, Frank is, and I never have to worry about him getting into trouble.  He never drinks or goes out with bad company.  He&apos;d rather stay here with me and the children.&rdquo;</p></div><div><head>CASE 23<hsep> Kingsley House<lb>LAFORGE<hsep> New Orleans, La.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Fr. descent) (M. 49, W; 43)</hi><lb> <hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">8 ranging from 5 mos. to 16 yrs.</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Maintenance Man; Worker at Odd<lb>Jobs; Carpenter; Watchman<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>Emile and Louise Laforge have eight children.  The oldest is 16, the youngest is 5 months old.  Louise, the eldest, went to work in September of this year as a helper in a dentist&apos;s office, and receives $8 a week.  Inez, the next child, is still in school.  The others are Paul, Edward, Claire, Lloyd, Beatrice and Felicie.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110124">124</controlpgno><printpgno>73</printpgno></pageinfo><p>Mr. Laforge is now working for the Sewerage and Water Board.  He had been a maintenance man for a big plant for ten years.  His employers valued him highly even though he was somewhat temperamental and not always easy to get along with.  He is a very skillful workman, and made a fair living for his family.</p><p>The family is a happy-go-lucky lot.  They overflow out of the little house into the streets.  The children practically <hi rend="italics">live</hi> in the settlement playground.</p><p>The mother is a good manager,&mdash;thrifty and industrious.  The children are bright, and the entire family, with its Latin heritage, gives a gay colorful tone to life in the home and neighborhood.</p><p>The immediate cause of Mr. Laforge&apos;s being dropped was as follows:  The manager had objected to something that Mr. Laforge had done, or had not done.  Mr. Laforge flew up, and said they could get someone else if they did not like his work.  The proprietor took him at his word.  Mr. Laforge was without a job.  He did not care, and said that he could easily find another job, possibly a better one.  After two weeks he was not so certain.  After a month he came to the settlement for advice.</p><p>One of the workers at the settlement phoned the plant where he had worked for so long, and asked if they would not consider taking Mr. Laforge back.  &ldquo;We would gladly,&rdquo; said the manager, &ldquo;if times were better.  Laforge is a good workman.  We thought a lot of him in spite of his tendency to &lsquo;fly off the handle.&rsquo;  But we have just doubled up two positions.  The machinist is now doing his job and Laforge&apos;s also.  We are sorry.  We&apos;ll give Laforge a recommendation.&rdquo;</p><p>The recommendation did not help any.  For one entire year Laforge walked the streets, catching at anything that came his way.  He went out to the river and worked as a day laborer in the freight sheds.  He did odd jobs of carpentry.  He took on a job as watchman for the time that it lasted, which was only two months.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110125">125</controlpgno><printpgno>74</printpgno></pageinfo><p>During the year he was without work at least two-thirds of the time.</p><p>The family was in debt before many months had passed and their small savings were soon used up.  Mr. Laforge had sisters and Mrs. Laforge, too, had relatives who helped out.</p><p>Louise, eager to get work, was very happy when she found a job in a dentist&apos;s office.</p><p>Mrs. Laforge made a little money nursing in the family of one of her relatives where there was serious illness.  This job came just four months before the birth of the baby, Felicie, and involved day and night duty.  While she was out on this job, thirteen-year-old Inez mothered the family,&mdash;cooking, cleaning, and even doing most of the laundry.  Louise helped at night after her work was done.</p><p>The family did not apply for help.  They did not move, for they could not very easily have fitted into a smaller house, and besides, the rent was very cheap,&mdash;$20 a month.</p><p>Most of the children looked astonishingly well when one knew the economic condition of the home.  Thirteen-year-old Inez, however, was terribly thin and anemic-looking when the settlement summer camp opened.  The doctor who examined children for camp recommended that she have more than one trip, and that it would be well if she could stay in the country all summer.  The settlement camp took not only Inez but Paul, Edward, Claire and Lloyd for two trips,&mdash;practically a month.</p><p>Mrs. Laforge looked wretched during her pregnancy and her family and friends were much worried about her.</p><p>Mr. Laforge was overwhelmed with the sense of his own foolishness in throwing up his job.  He said that he felt sure they would not have let him go if he had not lost his temper and resigned.  He was untiring in his effort to find work.  He was most unwilling to have Louise go to work.  He had wanted her to go to high school.  He felt a keen mortification at having to depend on her at all.  He began drinking when his discouragement became very great.</p><p>Louise does not feel keenly as yet about missing the <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110126">126</controlpgno><printpgno>75</printpgno></pageinfo>chance to go to high school.  She is thrilled at being able to bring home her wages.  She feels the importance of being a part of the big working world.  Now Inez talks of trying to get a job as soon as she is fourteen.</p><p>Fortunately for the Laforges, the position at the Sewerage and Water Board materialized for the father just as there were symptoms of a serious breakdown in morale.  Without this life-saver we can readily see how slowly but surely the family standard would have been lowered and a general disintegration of values set in.</p><p>Louise, a very pretty, high-spirited girl, could not have been expected to go on indefinitely with no chance for the usual, normal pleasures that girls of her age look forward to.  The children at school had become so shabby that it would have been next to impossible to keep them going if the unemployment had lasted much longer.  Mr. Laforge would have probably degenerated into a disappointed, disillusioned drunkard.</p><p>Instead a different outcome has resulted.  For example, Mrs. Laforge looked almost pretty with a happy glow in her face and a light in her eyes that she has not had for more than a year.  The children have new clothes.  Louise actually blooms.  She is so gay and carefree; all of her delinquent dues in her club at the settlement are paid up, and she has started coming to the settlement dances.  The family is planning some all day excursions to the parks, and talks hopefully of what they are going to do with the future.</p></div><div><head>CASE 24<hsep>North Toledo Community House<lb>THOMPSON<hsep>Toledo, Ohio</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Negro) (M. 56; W. 45)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">23, 13, 10, 8, 1</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Porter; Cook; Waiter<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">seasonal slackness</hi></hi></p><p>Mr. and Mrs. Thompson are well-educated American Negroes.  The oldest boy married about three years ago and <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110127">127</controlpgno><printpgno>76</printpgno></pageinfo>has a home of his own, so the father has his wife and four children to support.  When first known to the Community House, he was a porter at one of the best hotels and buying his own home.</p><p>Unmployment first came to the family when Mr. Thompson found work as a porter too hard for him and tried work on the lakes, which was seasonal.  He is a cook as well as a good waiter.  However, after the work on the lakes was over, he tried to get back as a porter, but there was no vacancy.  After being unemployed for some time, he secured temporary work with the city.  His health became poor, and his children were sick, one after the other.  When well enough to work, he found irregular work as waiter, porter, etc.  His bills, becoming larger and larger, forced him to let his house go for the mortgage and move into a rented house.  He and his son then went into the auto-lacquering business.  Winter came and they failed.  He then did occasional day&apos;s work for several months until securing a night-watchman job at $48 a month, which he holds today.</p><p>Unemployment and illness used up the family&apos;s savings, put them into debt, and made them lose the payments on the house which they were buying.  The wife did day&apos;s work when it was possible, but with the coming of the baby, it was not then possible for her to go out to work.  She did plain sewing and washing at home when she could get  them.  The family has been forced twice to move into poorer quarters.  Comparatively little relief has been given them.</p><p>Apparently they clung to their good standards of living,&mdash;although the children are underweight and two show symptoms of tuberculosis.  The visiting nurse has supplied milk tickets and cared for them when necessary, and the children were taken to the county hospital when seriously ill.  They are always clean and neatly dressed.</p><p>Mr. Thompson feels quite depressed while out of work, and discouraged with the kind of work secured.  Both he and Mrs. Thompson have a strong religious faith and are most self-respecting and self-reliant people.  Neither the children <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110128">128</controlpgno><printpgno>77</printpgno></pageinfo>nor their parents complain.  There is great admiration for their parents on the part of the children and the mother and father seem to be able to create a real home atmosphere for them.</p><p>The Community House has given the girl a music scholarhip which entitles her to a weekly piano lesson (they own their piano).  She is also a Girl Scout and has other privileges at the Community House.  The older boy is also privileged to join in the activities of the Community House.  The younger boy (a cripple) goes to cripple school and is called for and brought home daily.</p><p>Mr. Thompson&apos;s present job as night-watchman only pays $48 a month, but he hopes it will be permanent, for it is steady.  They are hoping that as soon as they get their pack debts paid, they will be able to move back into a better neighborhood.</p></div><div><head>CASE 25<hsep>Family Welfare Society<lb>BERTLEY<hsep>Atlanta, Ga.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Irish parentage) (M. 40; W. 34)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi> <hi rend="italics">12, 11, 8, 1&half;</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Carpenter, Painter</hi> <hi rend="italics">(winters);</hi> <hi rend="smallcaps">Farmer</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">summers</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">business vicissitudes (crop failure), depression</hi></hi></p><p>The Bertleys were a very happy family while they lived on a farm near a little South Georgia town.  During the summer and fall, the children played out of doors, and grew plump and rosy.  Mr. Bertley, who was up and coming, raised all that the family needed for food, and had plenty left over to stock his wagon with beans, cabbages, corn tomatoes, peaches, and watermelons, and drive them into the little town.  Proceeds from the sale of these commodities bought necessary clothing.  In the winter,  Mr. Bertley worked as a carpenter in the town with his wife&apos;s father.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110129">129</controlpgno><printpgno>78</printpgno></pageinfo><p>In 1919, there was a failure of crops, and carpentry work in town also became very scarce.  Mrs. Bertley&apos;s people decided to move to Atlanta, and the Bertleys went with them.</p><p>From then on, Mr. Bertley has been unemployed during part of every winter in Atlanta, but he has usually managed to get odd jobs enough to pay his current expenses with only occasional relief from this agency.  During the past winter, however, he has had to have assistance regularly with groceries.  This has been due to a general business depression, and to the number of unemployed carpenters and painters drifting back from Florida and willing to work for almost nothing.  Mr. Bertley has had several unfortunate experiences of contracting for a job, and then finding it had been given to a man underbid him.  In order to get work at all, he is now painting at 30 cents an hour instead of 60 cents, which he has received until this winter.</p><p>Last summer Mr. Bertley bought enough coal for the winter, and also a hog, which he killed about Christmas time.  That helped provide meat and lard for nearly two months.  Their insurance agent has been paying the premiums on their policies as he knows he will be repaid when work is more plentiful.  Several months ago Mr. Bertley pawned his watch and has not been able to reclaim it.  The family moved during the fall to a little unpaved street on the very edge of town.  Even here they have been unable to pay rent for several months, and have been permitted to remain only because the property is involved in a lawsuit, and no one can claim rental.  Several times their water has been turned off for non-payment of the bill.  This agency and the city have helped with groceries, and we have also provided clothes, medical care, medicine, and other incidental relief.  Relatives have also helped with groceries, at such times as they themselves were employed.  As Mrs. Bertley&apos;s health is very bad, and her baby is still too small to leave, she has not been able to get outside work and help her husband.</p><p>Mrs. Bertley estimated that the family grocery bill, when <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110130">130</controlpgno><printpgno>79</printpgno></pageinfo>her husband is employed, averages $10 a week.  This buys milk, vegetables and fruit regularly, and fresh meat occasionally.  During this past winter she has managed on less than $5 a week for groceries.  As a consequence the family generally ate only two meals a day, consisting largely of corn bread and salt meat, and dried beans.  They have been unable to buy any clothing and have had to keep the children out of school at times, until this agency or the school could provide shoes.</p><p>Mrs. Bertley has been frail ever since we have known her.  She has always opposed clinics and had a private doctor until they became unable even to have prescriptions filled.  This winter she had influenza, and did not regain her strength.  She had several fainting spells, and when we finally got her to a doctor he said she was not getting nearly enough to eat.  She also had to submit to having necessary dental work done at a clinic.  The baby has had one sickness after another.  The specialist who examined him said his main trouble was lack of sufficient nourishment.</p><p>Mr. Bertley&apos;s general attitude throughout the winter has been courageous.  Occasionally, however, he has been very discouraged, and unable to understand why a man with a good record, no bad habits, and a strong desire to work, could not find employment.  He has found for himself such odd jobs as he has had, and always knows where work is going on and goes for it.  During the few times he has had to ask help in other winters, his manner has been independent.  This winter he has been almost too humble and grateful.</p><p>Mrs. Bertley is always reticent, but during these trying times her expression has become rather sullen, and her manner resentful.  But the worst result has been the effect upon the older daughter.  Rose has had to be out of school one day a week to help with the family laundry.  The day following she is generally too weary to make the effort to go to school.  Consequently, her attendance has become very irregular.  This has left her too much time to loaf in the neighborhood, where she made friends with several <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110131">131</controlpgno><printpgno>80</printpgno></pageinfo>older and notoriously bad girls, which resulted in her being brought into Juvenile Court on a charge of incorrigibility.  Her mother&apos;s general listlessness irritates Rose, and she has become very impudent to her.  The younger children have adopted this manner to a certain extent, and help to make their mother&apos;s existence more miserable.</p><p>In better times the parents have enjoyed taking their children for picnics in public parks, or to walk in the woods.  Now the family has so little energy that it is almost too much effort to go out.  The uppermost thought in the minds of Mr. and Mrs. Bertley has become a dread of winter and unemployment.  Mrs. Bertley says, &ldquo;If he makes only $15 a week this summer, we&apos;ll save $5 for the winter.  We can&apos;t go through another winter like this.&rdquo;</p></div><div><head>CASE 26<hsep>Lincoln House<lb>TIORSI<hsep>Boston, Mass.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Ital.</hi> (<hi rend="italics">M. 54; W. 55</hi>)<lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">21, 15</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Hand-Laster<lb>Unemployment Reported Due To:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">mechanization</hi></hi></p><p>Mr. and Mr. Tiorsi&apos;s family is rather grown up, consisting of Gabriel, 21, and Emily, 15.  Mrs. Tiorsi&apos;s sister, who is tailoress, lives with them and is a great help.</p><p>The father, the chief breadwinner, is a hand-laster in a shoe factory, and has had a good record.  During the twenty-four years that he has lived in America, he has worked twelve years at the Watson Shoe Company.  Previously he worked two years at a time in three different factories, always at the same kind of job, and earning from $18 to $40 a week.  Before the war there was plenty of work, and during the war he earned well, but since that time his special kind of work has been getting less and less, because of more machinery having been put in.  A few years ago he <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110132">132</controlpgno><printpgno>81</printpgno></pageinfo>came home one week with only $3 in his pay envelope, and that week he tried to commit suicide.  Getting over this episode took some time, but he returned to work and worked until last May, when the factory where he had been employed off and on for twelve years moved to a distant place.</p><p>Gabriel left school after the third year in high school in order to help the family.  He is a waiter, earning $9 a week.  Emily, however, is still in school.</p><p>The mother&apos;s sister helps financially, specially with clothes and glasses for Emily.  She has taken from her savings to help in time of distress, so they therefore have no debts, nor have they received relief from any society.</p><p>When wages were good, this family began to buy a house, so that their rent is free, but they are still paying interest on the mortgage, insurance, water, taxes, and therefore have not been able to save.  Mrs. Tiorsi has taken in extra work at home, doing bead work, which is very trying to her eyes.</p><p>The father, as mentioned before, was so worried over his loss of work and steady decrease in wages that he became melancholy and tried to commit suicide, and was sent to the Psychopathic Hospital for ten days&rsquo; observation.  During the last nine months, he has been very much discouraged and irritable, but the family has all tried to make the best of things.  They have done with less, they say, and &ldquo;pulled in their belts.&rdquo;</p><p>The mother needs to have her glasses changed and her teeth attended to, but lack of funds prevents her.</p><p>The father has done fairly well, under the circumstances, with the background he has had and the lack of education.  He has helped to do the work at home and has spent many hours hunting for work.</p><p>Before Mr. Tiorsi tried to commit suicide, the family had been somewhat censorious, but since that time they have realized that his irritability and melancholia came from mental anguish, and they have shown more fortitude and patience with him.  There now seems to be harmony and co&ouml;peration in the family.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110133">133</controlpgno><printpgno>82</printpgno></pageinfo><p>Gabriel is the only one who has left school and gone to work.  He has been unable to go on to night school because he is not very strong.  Emily has continued to use the settlement house for her recreation and is very much interested in her church.</p><p>The total lack of work on the father&apos;s part during the last nine months has made them all nervous.  Mr. Tiorsi has now, through the settlement worker, applied for a place in the Shoemakers&rsquo; School to learn how to run the special machine in which he is interested,&mdash;the &ldquo;pulling machine.&rdquo;</p></div><div><head>CASE 27<hsep>Hudson Guild<lb>UTRECHT<hsep>New York City, N. Y.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Dalmatian</hi> (<hi rend="italics">W. 46</hi>)<lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">23, 14, 12</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Machine Operator<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression, change of style</hi></hi></p><p>The Utrecht family consists of the mother, aged 46; Ethel, 23; a son, 14; and another son, 12.  The father died thirteen years ago.  The father and mother came from Dalmatia.  Ethel was born there and the two boys were born in this country.  The mother and Ethel are the breadwinners.  Since the father&apos;s death the mother has worked as a machine operator at hemstitching and Ethel as a telephone operator.</p><p>The mother had never worked in the &ldquo;old country&rdquo; and had learned her trade here on the job.  Since starting work in 1922 she has worked most of the time for two firms.</p><p>In Dalmatia both the father&apos;s and mother&apos;s families were in comfortable circumstances, although not wealthy.  They had attractive homes&mdash;&ldquo;nice places that you could be proud of,&rdquo; according to the mother.  The mother&apos;s previous home here had been in a poor tenement in an atmosphere which had been most unsatisfying to her.  She had hated the noisiness <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110134">134</controlpgno><printpgno>83</printpgno></pageinfo>and ignorance of the other tenants, and the dirt and smells.  By December, 1926, she had managed to save up enough money to move to a five-room flat in Brooklyn, with dining room, living room, two bedrooms and bath, in a fairly good section where there was light and air.  She also bought furniture which seemed to her attractive and of satisfactory standards, and every effort had been made to make the home pleasant.  The mother felt that she owed it to Ethel to give her the proper setting so that she might have a chance to marry well.</p><p>The machine hemstitching seemed to have suffered a general depression by June, 1927.  Work was very slack.  It was partly a seasonal matter, and also a matter of change of style.</p><p>Mrs. Utrecht, at the time she came to us, was earning only $5 to $10 a week because of part-time work, instead of $20 to $25, which she had been accustomed to earning.  At times there would be several weeks when there was no work for her.  She tried finding employment in other shops but was unsuccessful.  She felt that her age was against her&mdash;the preference being given to the younger girl.</p><p>The family was pressed into using up what little savings they had and Ethel, who was now engaged to be married, had to stop putting money aside for her trousseau and the furnishings for her home.  This was a great blow to the family pride, for the mother considered it a disgrace to have the girl marry &ldquo;without anything.&rdquo;  The family attempted to meet the situation by taking in lodgers, but were unsuccessful in finding anyone.  It was finally necessary to appeal to the Bureau of Charities when a dispossess had been issued.  The Family Society felt that the mother should move to a less expensive apartment, but as she was totally unwilling to give up the better standards for which she had waited so long, there was considerable difficulty in straightening out the situation.</p><p>A trouble of long standing which the mother had with her leg was aggravated by the necessity of tramping about <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110135">135</controlpgno><printpgno>84</printpgno></pageinfo>in search of work.  The mother became very despondent and depressed over her failure to get work and over the fear that she might be obliged to give up her attractive home and her plans for having the older boy go through high school.  She found it very difficult also to face the naggings in regard to payment of rent and other bills, and could not understand why the Family Society would not give much help as long as she remained in her apartment.</p><p>Ethel was much upset because her mother felt it was her duty to delay her marriage until the family was better off; her fianc&eacute; was very indignant at this and insisted that they should stick to their original plan.</p><p>The rather severe behavior problems of the younger boy, which consisted of truancy, staying away from home, quarreling with the older brother, disobeying the mother and sister and answering them back, were all greatly increased by the tense atmosphere in the home and particularly by the mother&apos;s worry and irritability.</p><p>The older boy, always a quiet and responsible boy, took a great deal of the worry upon his own shoulders and withdrew more and more from activities with boys his own age.  He was torn between the desire to go on with his schooling and the feeling that his help was needed.</p></div><div><head>CASE 28<hsep>College Statement<lb>CASANO<hsep>Philadelphia, Pa.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Ital. parentage) (M. 29, W. 26)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">5, 16 mos.</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">&ldquo;Laboring Jobs&rdquo;; Sometimes Factory Jobs<lb>Unemployment Reported Due To:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>The Casano family consists of Mr. and Mrs. Casano and their two children, a boy of 5 and a baby only 16 months old.</p><p>Rocco Casano has been known to the settlement about ten <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110136">136</controlpgno><printpgno>85</printpgno></pageinfo>years.  He went to the 7th grade in school and has had no schooling since.  Consequently &ldquo;laboring jobs&rdquo; come to him more often than factory jobs.</p><p>&ldquo;My wife is sick and needs medicine I can&apos;t buy.  I have been out of work for over a month.  I&apos;ve been all over and can&apos;t find a job.  Already I owe $50, and I&apos;m disgusted.&rdquo;  Thus began Rocco Casano, a strong, well-knit young man of 29.  &ldquo;I came over here to see if you knew of anything and because I am afraid of myself.  I used to come over here a lot as a boy and I figured it would be good to come over and talk to you.  I am twenty-nine years out of jail and I never want to do anything to get in it, but sometimes I feel desperate.  I get plenty of chances to go wrong, but I don&apos;t want to.  When I can&apos;t break even on expenses I get down.  Year before last I was out of work for months and got $300 in debt.  Then I got a job and paid every penny off; so of course I haven&apos;t anything ahead.  That pull was terrible!</p><p>&ldquo;I know what hard sledding is.  My father died when I was 9 and I went to work at 11 in a glass factory to help support my mother and little brother.  At 13, I was working on the railroad and at 16 did a man&apos;s work.  I have a wonderful kid, 5 years old.  I don&apos;t want him to go through what I&apos;ve had.  I think I can  make something of him if I can give him a chance.  Gee! I can&apos;t even give him enough to eat now.  All I can take is a point  of milk a day&mdash;a pint of milk for him and the baby, too.  It costs us $5 a week to eat when I am working, and my wife&apos;s a good manager and can squeeze every cent of a nickel.  When I am not working, we try to do on less.  Thank God! the corner grocer trusts us, else I don&apos;t know what we&apos;d do.</p><p>&ldquo;Excuse me for coming over and bothering  you.  I hate to have to ask anything of anybody. But I felt desperate and afraid of myself and figured you wouldn&apos;t mind if I came and talked to you.  Thank you a lot for letting me talk.  Good-bye, I feel better than when I came in.&rdquo;</p><p>And then Rocco shook hands and went home to his sick <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110137">137</controlpgno><printpgno>86</printpgno></pageinfo>wife for whom he cannot buy medicine, and to his little boys to whom sufficient food cannot be given.</p></div><div><head>CASE 29<hsep>Hartford Social Settlement<lb>LA PENTA<hsep>Hartford, Conn.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Ital. parentage) (M. 26; W. 26)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">1 young child</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Unskilled Factory Worker<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>The story of Mike and Mary La Penta and their efforts to establish their home and family is a hard one.  Mike&apos;s father died when Mike was fifteen, and he had to leave school to support his mother and his six brothers and sisters.  Later, upon the mother&apos;s  remarriage  (to a widower with six children), Mike married Mary, Mary, too, had left school to keep house for her widowed father and three younger children.</p><p>Mike and Mary had great plans.  They moved to a good district, bought furniture on the installment plan, and both worked until the new baby was imminent.  The baby was healthy and well cared for and all was going well in their attractive comfortable little home when Mike&apos;s work became slack.  Mike was an unskilled factory laborer who had worked on piece-work in various factories.  One went out of business, and in the others he was laid off during slack times,&mdash;usually without any advance notice.  Then this winter he was out for seven months.</p><p>Mike and Mary had no savings and their furniture was not entirely paid for.  Another baby was on the way.  Mike&apos;s stepfather (with his six and Mike&apos;s mother&apos;s five to support) helped some, but the other sons resented this.  Then Mary went to stay for weeks at a time with her father, who was not young and who only worked occasionally as a common day laborer.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110138">138</controlpgno><printpgno>87</printpgno></pageinfo><p>A great depression&mdash;almost brutality&mdash;came over Mike, and a whining depression settled upon Mary, who was worried and pregnant.  Although Mike at first was full of courage, he began to lose faith in himself.  One night in desperation he jumped on a truck going to a distant city upon an illegal errand, not daring to notify Mary, but he was seen by friends.  Mary, thinking he had left her, was taken ill.  When Mike finally sent word and returned, Mary&apos;s family was estranged.  The second baby died at birth and Mary was very ill.</p><p>Mike, although now working, has become addicted to spasmodic drinking.  He is fighting hard, however, to conquer this, for he and Mary still hope some day to establish their little &ldquo;American home.&rdquo;</p></div><div><head>CASE 30<hsep>Elizabeth Peabody House<lb>ORLOFF<hsep>Boston, Mass.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Rus.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 41; W. 39)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">17, 16, 15, 13, 12, 10, 3</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Shob Factory Hand; Then Rubber<lb>Factory Hand<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>Mr. Orloff came to America in 1912, from Russia, where he had worked with his father in a small shop making shoes to order.  A relative, also a shoemaker, had preceded him and had found work in a shoe factory in Salem, Massachusetts.  It was therefore natural that Mr. Orloff should go to Salem.  Up to the outbreak of the war, he earned from $30 to $36 per week.  Work became dull at that time; so the family moved to the West End of Boston.  In 1915, Mr. Orloff obtained work in a rubber factory, earning as much as $40 per week.  He is an intelligent man who seems to have obtained a fairly good education in Russia.  His wife is also intelligent and an excellent mother.  Out of the $40 per week money was set aside for the future education of the children. <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110139">139</controlpgno><printpgno>88</printpgno></pageinfo>&ldquo;Of course, they must go to college,&rdquo; the man would say.  &ldquo;The boys anyway, and by and by I can get a shop for myself.&rdquo;  By 1920, they were carrying a $1,000 life insurance policy and had $1,500 in the bank.  In 1920, there was a crisis in rubber situation in the country.  At that time hundreds of employees were dropped.  Mr. Orloff was given three days a week.  The family situation became tense.  He tried to get a full-time job but could find none.  He occasionally supplemented his three days a week working in the local markets, but the pay was small,&mdash;$2 to $2.50 per day.  From 1920 to 1923, Mr. Orloff&apos;s average income was about $25 per week.  Sam worked after school and Saturdays in a shoe shine parlor for about $4 per week.  The father insisted that the children stay in school and the family used their savings to make this possible.  From 1923 to 1926, although he would often work at the factory for successive weeks, there were many &ldquo;off&rdquo; weeks.  Meanwhile in 1926, another baby came and his wife&apos;s health has been poor ever since.</p><p>In 1927, Mr. and Mrs. Orloff decided to let one of their rooms for $2 per week.  About this time, Mr. Orloff developed a cough.  The diagnosis was tuberculosis and the doctor advised him to leave the rubber factory.  This was a hard blow; he had been working steadily for about six months at somewhere near his original pay ($35 per week) and the family had been much more hopeful than for several years.  At this time, savings of only $700 were left of the former $1,500.  The parents clung to this, for their ideal was still a family of educated children.</p><p>The settlement obtained work for Mr. Orloff as an assistant chore man on an estate on the South Shore at $20 per week and maintenance.  His wife then began to show signs of increased poor health.  An examination proved tuberculosis in her case, too, and she was sent to a tuberculosis camp.  Sam obtained a job in a men&apos;s clothing store at $12 per week and Etta, then 14, had to leave school to look after the younger children.  The income per week at this time (1927) was: Mr. Orloff, $20, Sam, $12, room rent, $2, a <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110140">140</controlpgno><printpgno>89</printpgno></pageinfo>total of $34, but their room was often vacant.  The rent was $30 per month.  Hence, the income when the room was rented amounted to $136 per month, which left $106 for this family of nine to live on.</p><p>In 1928 when Sam had influenza the doctors feared for his lungs.  Both Mr. and Mrs. Orloff were at a state sanatorium; so Sam was sent to the country by the settlement.  Maria (15) went to work in a candy factory at $9.50 per week.  The savings by now had been reduced to $325.</p><p>In 1929, Mr. and Mrs. Orloff were still at the sanatorium.  Sam (17) is working at $14 per week; Etta (16) is the homemaker; Maria, at the candy factory, earns $10 per week; Victor (13), as a newsboy, earns $8 to $10 per week.  Since a lodger is uncertain they have moved into a five-room tenement at $22 per month.  The home is well run by Etta, but Maria and Victor show the lack of having parental oversight and care.  Sam and Etta frequently come to the settlement to ask for help in guiding their brothers and sisters.  Recently, they had to withdraw $50 from the $325 in the bank in 1928 for clothes, so only $275 is left.</p><p>The labor market seems to be the basic cause of the difficulty in this family.  No financial assistance has been given except free medical care.  From a hopeful future, the group has been plunged into an acute situation by uncertain, irregular employment and the consequent worry over it.</p></div><div><head>CASE 31<hsep>Ellis Memorial<lb>HANLON<hsep>Boston, Mass.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Irish parentage) (D. 50; M. 54)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Wire Frame Hat Workers<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">market changes, mechanization, approachingold age</hi></hi></p><p>Miss Delia and Miss Margaret Hanlon are sisters, American born of Irish parentage.  Both left school at 14 and went <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110141">141</controlpgno><printpgno>90</printpgno></pageinfo>to work in a factory.  They are people of high standards.  They took part in the social life of the neighborhood and entertained their friends in their home.  Miss Delia used to sing in the Roman Catholic Church Choir and with some other musical neighbors often had musical evenings in her own home.  Since the mother&apos;s death they have lived alone, but always in one of the best tenements in the district.  They were expert wire frame hat workers and at the time of their final lay-off, Miss Delia earned $22 and Miss Margaret, $18 per week.</p><p>First came frequent short &ldquo;vacations&rdquo; without pay; then Miss Margaret was told that the new machines were making them need fewer workers and that &ldquo;little girls at $12 per week could learn to run them in a day.&rdquo;  Later Miss Delia got the same news, and also that wire frames are no longer being used.  The final lay-off was in August, 1927.</p><p>Miss Delia got work stitching (November, 1927) in another factory for $22 per week which lasted ten weeks.  Then she got work stitching curtains in an upholsterer&apos;s ($18) in July and that lasted thirteen weeks.  Then she substituted dusting in a china store ($12) for three hours a day.  That lasted five weeks,&mdash;so since August. 1927&mdash;seventy-eight weeks&mdash;she had had twenty-eight weeks&rsquo; work and earned $428.  Normally she was laid off four weeks in the fifty-two.</p><p>Miss Margaret has earned a little money now and then sewing at home and for four months had a job cleaning at the Massachusetts General Hospital earning $12 a week.  She was well liked but was not able to work fast enough to get the rooms ready in time; so was laid off in favor of a spryer person.  She was used to six week&apos;s lay-off in a year.</p><p>The two sisters have lost almost $2,000 in wages in  eighteen months.  For the first six or eight months they were brave and full of hope and courage, but repeated rebuffs as to needing younger people have strained, if not broken, their spirits.</p><p>They had always saved and were laying by for old age <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110142">142</controlpgno><printpgno>91</printpgno></pageinfo>expecting it to come &ldquo;some time in their sixties.&rdquo;  They are now using this money up.  They have taken a lodger in their flat to reduce the rent and are sharing a room.</p><p>Miss Delia has hunted employment offices and followed up scores of advertisements, always to be told that they want &ldquo;young women.&rdquo;</p><p>As far as appearances go their home has the same standard as ever, but they are in constant fear of living longer than their money lasts.  They feel that their nephews and nieces fear they may become a burden upon them.  They are not able to afford any entertainments or treats and even hesitate to use carfare.</p><p>Miss Margaret was becoming a little &ldquo;hard of hearing&rdquo; and this has progressed rapidly of late.  The family doctor thinks this has been much more rapid on account of worry than would have been normal.</p><p>Miss Delia, from being one of the jolliest people imaginable, is &ldquo;looking for slights.&rdquo;</p><p>Miss Margaret and Miss Delia Hanlon by hard work and industry reached middle age in comfortable circumstances and looked forward to enjoying an independent old age free from financial worry.  Changes in the style in hats and labor-saving machinery, by throwing them out of work at a time when they were not young enough in flexibility to learn some other trade and also at a time of widespread unemployment, have changed all their prospects.</p></div><div><head>CASE 32<hsep>Neighborhood House<lb>SHERMAN<hsep>Louisville, Ky.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi>  (<hi rend="italics">M. 45, W. 39</hi>)<lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">14, 11, 9</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Broom-Maker<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression and mechanization</hi></hi></p><p>What a contrast the Sherman&apos;s rooms presented to the others one encountered up the flight of dark, smelly stairs <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110143">143</controlpgno><printpgno>92</printpgno></pageinfo>and along the dirty hall!  The two bare rooms were beautifully clean, the beds spotless, and the curtains stiff and white.  The floors had been scrubbed to the last degree.  Mrs. Sherman was lying thin and white on the bed.  Such a change in her appearance since she was last seen on the settlement&apos;s playground during the summer!</p><p>&ldquo;It&apos;s about the children I wanted to see you,&rdquo; Mrs. Sherman sighed, as she sent Pete out to play.  &ldquo;I wouldn&apos;t &lsquo;a&rsquo; sent for you but ... I heard the children talking about you and I thought I&apos;d ask you about getting some Christmas for them.  You see, Mr. Sherman hasn&apos;t worked, oh, for a long time now, and since I&apos;ve been sick, I just can&apos;t keep up with my scrubbing, though the other ladies helped me with my work for a long time.  Now I&apos;m so bad that I had to give up the job.  It&apos;s been so different since we came to Louisville&mdash;we&apos;ve had an awful time&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p><p>Then Mrs. Sherman told her story, probably more to relieve her mind than for any other reason.  The Shermans were married in Arkansas where Mr. Sherman held a good job in a broom factory.  Their home, a three-room cottage with a large plot of ground around it, was furnished them as a part of Sherman&apos;s salary.  Mrs. Sherman raised a garden and chickens.  Here the children were born and reared for several years.  Mr. Sherman was well pleased with his work and his employer seemed fond of him.  They had a Ford in which they took week-end excursions into the neighboring country along with other families in the community.  &ldquo;If you&apos;ll look in that Bible, you&apos;ll find some pictures of us and the kiddies on some of our trips.  See that one of me and Lee in the broom corn.  I had on a pink dress he liked so much.  He wanted a picture of me with it on,&mdash;said he wanted to keep it.  Goodness knows, he never says anything like that now!  All we do is fuss, fuss, fuss.  First it&apos;s because I can&apos;t manage on the $10 a week I make, then it&apos;s &lsquo;cause he don&apos;t get no work.  Next it&apos;s because the children are getting so bad&mdash;which isn&apos;t no wonder when you think of how little <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110144">144</controlpgno><printpgno>93</printpgno></pageinfo>they get to eat and with no one to look after them while I work.&rdquo;</p><p>In 1921, the broom factory where Sherman worked closed down.  It was a small concern unable to compete with the larger factories backed by large capital making possible modern, labor-saving machinery.  Sherman lost his job.  For many months he sought employment in neighboring towns as a broom-maker, but no new hands were being taken on.  In fact, most of the places were being forced to close.  They had a small savings account which with economy would carry them through several months, so Mr. Sherman refused to accept jobs he thought unworthy of him&mdash;jobs that paid a mere pittance compared to what he had made at the broom factory.  Outside of broom-making, Sherman knew no other way of making a living.  He had had only a common school education.  The broom-making had been learned through an apprenticeship of many years.  Pride kept Sherman from permitting his wife to go to work in a restaurant, as she offered to do.  As the months passed and the grocery bill grew, the Shermans decided to come to Kentucky, where they thought work was plentiful.  Mrs. Sherman&apos;s people lived here; they would pay them a visit and look for work at the same time.</p><p>&ldquo;I hated to part with my furniture; I didn&apos;t know when I&apos;d ever get as nice again, but we had to sell it all, even my folding bed.  Then we came in the Ford to visit my people.  Lee looked for work, but he couldn&apos;t find none and after we had stayed on for several weeks, my folks got to asking so many questions&mdash;oh, well, I guess we wore our welcome out.  Anyways, we decided to take a couple of furnished rooms down here and not tell them where we had gone.  They would have worried seeing us live down here.  Lee got several small jobs, but every time he&apos;d land one, something would happen; the place would either close down or start laying off men.  So I had to go to work,&mdash;scrubbing was all I could find.  The only part I hated was having to leave the children alone so much.&rdquo;</p><p>Sherman seemed not to strive so hard to find work after <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110145">145</controlpgno><printpgno>94</printpgno></pageinfo>he found he could get nothing that approximated his job as broom-maker in Arkansas.  In his youth he had travelled extensively and now he sought other unemployed men with whom he discussed his experiences as a boy.  He had lost his ambition.</p><p>In the poorly heated, cheap rooms, the children caught cold.  Soon the colds developed into pneumonia.  Mrs. Sherman became ill and had to give up her work.  Here the Family Service, summoned by the landlady, stepped in and tided the family over until sickness had departed from the family group.  There was a $60 grocery bill and several months&rsquo; back rent due when Sherman was able to get a job as carpenter.  Mrs. Sherman was again able to resume her scrubbing.  Things went fairly well with the Shermans until Lee was again &ldquo;laid off.&rdquo;  This time it was labor union trouble.  At the same time Mrs. Sherman was suffering from what was thought to be appendicitis, but which turned out to be pelvic trouble, brought on by her heavy work.  As she could not afford an operation, she began taking treatments, continuing with her work.</p><p>&ldquo;I don&apos;t know what would become of the children if it wasn&apos;t for Neighborhood House.  Mr. Wells down there means all the world to Pete, who is getting to be such a problem.  His father pays no attention to him and he won&apos;t pay no attention to me.  But he spends a lot of time at Neighborhood and I know where he is then.  Ida wanted me to come down and see the play she was in the other day, but I had to work.  Pete has started smoking I know and the school is complaining about him.  But what can you expect of a boy who&apos;s got nobody to look after him?  He wanted to go to the church entertainment the other day, but he didn&apos;t have an overcoat, so he wouldn&apos;t go.  If only Lee could get a steady job and I didn&apos;t have to work&mdash;&rdquo;</p><p>Mrs. Sherman&apos;s children are a bright, attractive and promising brood.  But the few odd jobs Mr. Sherman has been securing the past few months are not sufficient to keep up the little family; bills are still piling up, and Mrs. Sherman&apos;s <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110146">146</controlpgno><printpgno>95</printpgno></pageinfo>illness is becoming worse.  The father and mother are always on the point of separation, the children being the only bonds that keep them together now.  There is no promising future for the youngsters or the older Shermans unless Mr. Sherman secures a steady, well-paid job in the very near future before all the self-respect he has is sapped.</p></div><div><head>CASE 33<hsep>Kingsley House<lb>DANUTO<hsep>Pittsburgh, Pa.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Ital.</hi> (<hi rend="italics">M. 10, W. 29</hi>)<lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">11, 10, 8, 6</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Miner:  Fireman in Power Plant;<lb>Cementer:  Factory Laborer<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">mechanization, seasonal work and depression</hi></hi></p><p>Mr. and Mrs. Danuto are both Italian by birth but came to this country  when he was 14 and she was 11.  They have four girls:  Mary, 11; Josephine, 10; Lucy, 8, and Lydia, 6.  The family has regularly attended Kingsley House for three years,&mdash;the mother and children being active members although the father has never joined.</p><p>Mr. Danuto is the only breadwinner,&mdash;a cementer by trade but now working in a chocolate factory.  He took up cementing five years ago when the installation of machinery took his job and a change in trade became imperative.  Until this big change occured, work had been fairly plentiful and living fairly easy.  At the time of his marriage, Mr. Danuto was earning good pay at the Westinghouse Electric and Manufacturing Company.  During a strike there, a visit to some relatives in a mining town resulted in his becoming a coal-miner.  A year later when the first baby was born, he gave up mining because of its great dangers and found a job as a fireman in the community power plant.  Here he worked steadily for seven years, earning $42 a week.</p><p>At no time did he receive definite training for his jobs.  He had attended school in Italy until he was 14 years of age, <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110147">147</controlpgno><printpgno>96</printpgno></pageinfo>but in this country an unfortunate experience with a teacher early discouraged his further attendance in our public schools.</p><p>When Mr. Danuto worked in the mines and later at the power plant, we has able to buy good furniture for their five-room house, and also a Ford car.  These were bought on the instalment plan.  Electricity for light and power was furnished free by the power plant to the homes of the workers, for use at night, except on Mondays and Saturdays when it could be used for cleaning and washing.  Prices at the mines were high, but Mrs.  Danuto wanted to have an attractive home of which the family could be proud.  The car was the family&apos;s one means of recreation since in the small mining town there were no amusement places.  Mrs. Danuto at first felt the loneliness of the strange town, but she did not complain much, since she was able to have the things she wanted for the house and for herself.</p><p>When the installation of machinery threw Danuto out of work, the family moved back to the city.  Here a definite effort was made by the father to take up a new trade,&mdash;cementing.  For five years he worked  at this whenever he could find jobs, acquiring what skill he attained by watching his fellow-workmen.  A trade which for the unskilled laborer is at best only seasonal was further affected by the general business depression.  Work was never steady&mdash;and often entirely lacking for months at a time.  When wages came in at all they were good,&mdash;from $1.25 at $1.30 an hour.  The uncertainty of employment, however, and the resulting desperation, have finally forced Mr. Danuto to take anything he can get and he considers himself fortunate to be employed this winter in a chocolate factory at the greatly reduced wage of 45 cents an hour.</p><p>The family had no savings because all the money earned had been spent on their furniture and on the car.  They could not finish paying for the car and so lost it.  It cost them $50 to move to the city, and to pay this, they were forced to sell some of their furniture.  Mr. Danuto could not get work immediately and consequently they ran into <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110148">148</controlpgno><printpgno>97</printpgno></pageinfo>debt.  Bills accumulated at the stores and they fell behind in their rent.  They did not have to pawn anything, but the stove, which was partly paid for, was taken back and they lost the $50 they had already paid on it.  They moved from a four-room house to one with three rooms, thus saving $6 a month on rent.  Mrs.  Danuto was on the point of trying to get work several times during the months when Mr. Danuto was laid off, but each time Mr. Danuto himself would get a place which they hoped would prove permanent.  They have received no financial aid through social agencies except for the children&apos;s tonsillectomies from social service departments of hospitals.  Relatives have helped with clothes.</p><p>The family has not been able to keep up former standards.  Their furniture seems still to be good, but the furnishings leave much to be desired.  There are not enough cups and saucers to go around.  Coverings of beds and curtains at windows are kept clean, but the table cloth, though clean, is ragged.  They have not bought any linens for years.</p><p>Their diet is inadequate.  When there is no money, the children have no milk but drink coffee.  In a conversation with the settlement worker, Mary told of some of their troubles.  She said:  &ldquo;Sometimes we didn&apos;t have money to pay the store and we&apos;d have to ask the man to trust us for our bread and macaronis.  Miss Moore, do you like to ask people for trust?  I used to be ashamed, but my mother would say, &lsquo;Go down to the store, Mary, and tell them we&apos;ll pay when your father&apos;s working?  I hated to go, but I couldn&apos;t not, could I, for then we wouldn&apos;t have had anything to eat.  The nurse at school says Josephine and Lucy and I are too thin and Lucy&apos;s got big circles under her eyes all the time.  The nurse tells me I should stop drawing pictures all the time, and think about getting some flesh on my bones.  But honest, Miss Moore, we aren&apos;t hungry now like we used to be before my father got the job in the chocolate factory, and my father&apos;s awful good to us.  He never gets drunk and hits us like Angeline&apos;s father does them when he&apos;s not working.&rdquo;</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110149">149</controlpgno><printpgno>98</printpgno></pageinfo><p>The children have no warm clothes and wear light weight coats all winter, wearing sweaters under their dresses to keep warm.  Mrs. Danuto&apos;s sister and mother have given them clothes which were made over for them and a teacher at school has given them overshoes and stockings.  Mrs. Danuto is always neat and clean and the children are usually so.</p><p>The family is unable to buy a coal stove to heat the house, so they keep the gas oven burning all day.  There is a coal grate in one of the bedrooms which they use at night instead of the kitchen stove.  They buy coal by the bushel when they can afford it.</p><p>Mr. and Mrs. Danuto seem to be in good health.  The children, however, are all pale and look undernourished, except Lydia, the youngest.  Lucy, the third child, is especially pale and has, as Mary says, dark circles under her eyes.  Mary had her tonsils removed last year, and Lucy and Lydia this year, but only through the social service departments of the hospitals.  No other medical care has been received.</p><p>Mr. Danuto is very shy and disinclined to talk about his hard luck.  This is probably due to the resentment he feels against neighbors who have dubbed him &ldquo;lazy&rdquo; and &ldquo;lacking in initiative.&rdquo;  He is only too willing to work when the opportunity presents itself and still is ambitious enough to want to learn more about the cementing trade.  With the approach of spring he is again hopeful of changing back to his old job.  At times, however, he becomes greatly discouraged and seems not to care what happens.  He is beginning to take the accumulating bills as a matter of course and prefers to run into debt rather than ask for financial aid.</p><p>Mrs. Danuto has defended her husband when there was talk about his not wanting to get work and declared he would always work if he could get any.  She says that she herself has become easily angered and very nervous since Mr. Danuto has not been working steadily and before her marriage she was not like that.  She scolds the children often without <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110150">150</controlpgno><printpgno>99</printpgno></pageinfo>reason and then is sorry afterwards because she realizes it is not their fault.</p><p>The younger children do not seem to realize what their father&apos;s not working has meant to the family.  They know they cannot have a great many things that other children have, but it has made them only wistful.  Mary, however, seems to have felt the deprivation and it has made her assume a defensive attitude.  She has lost the wistful air she had a couple of years ago.  When Lucy was given overshoes and stockings by the teacher she was very much pleased, but Mary did not like it at all that people should be giving them clothing.  She came home from school one day and said that the school children were saying that they were begging.  Her mother told her it was better to have things given them than to steal.  Another thing that has hurt Mary is the fact that Adeline, who used to be her best friend, never comes near her now except to quarrel or make an unpleasant remark.  The children are devoted to their parents.  The atmosphere of the home seems pleasant.</p><p>It is difficult to say what the plans for the future might have been if Mr. Danuto had been working steadily.  Both husband and wife were pleasure-loving people and undoubtedly would have spent far more on recreation and amusement if they had had the money.  As it is now, the mother and children find their sole recreation and relaxation at the settlement, with an infrequent trip to the movies thrown in.  Cousins living downstairs share their radio with them.</p><p>The parents hope that no one of the family will become ill, since there is no money for doctors or hospitals.  As for old age, they dare not look so far ahead.</p><p>Neither parent is concerned about higher education for himself, but they speak with pride of Mary&apos;s entering Junior High School next fall and wish she might somewhere receive the special art lessons she craves.  All the children, however, will probably have to go to work as soon as they are old enough.</p><p>The great drawback to this home as a place of security for <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110151">151</controlpgno><printpgno>100</printpgno></pageinfo>the children is the hand-to-mouth existence.  There is no possibility at present of planning for the individual&apos;s development, and always the spectre of undernourishment stalks as a warning of possible illness.  In spite of the harmony and devotion now existing within the family, the continued lack of proper food and clothes and the normal pleasures of childhood will be an increasing hardship during adolescence and will probably bear down heavily upon the morale of the girls making their own adjustments to life.</p></div><div><head>CASE 34<hsep>Irene Kaufmann House<lb>MILLER<hsep>Pittsburgh, Pa.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> (<hi rend="italics">M. 28; W. 27</hi>)<lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">3 yrs., 6 mos.</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Salesman in Dept. Store<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>The Millers have two children ranging from six months to three years of age.  Mr. Miller was born and raised in our neighborhood and was a member of a club at the settlement for years before he was married.  He completed the first year at high school.  Mrs. Miller lived in Cleveland until her marriage four years ago.  Prior to that she worked in a store as a saleswoman earning about $15 per week.  Mr. Miller worked as a salesman in a department store and for one year for the United Cigar Stores with an average wage, including bonus, of about $30 per week.  After marriage, they invested their combined savings in furniture and necessities for a three-room apartment, paying $38 for rent including heat.  The family lived here for about eighteen months, and their first child was born here.  The wife was a good housekeeper and manager.</p><p>During a business depression, the department store curtailed expenses by giving all employees part-time work three days a week, but no employees were definitely laid off.  This depression lasted about two months until the spring season <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110152">152</controlpgno><printpgno>101</printpgno></pageinfo>opened up and work was again regular.  However, in the interim, Mr. Miller&apos;s earnings were insufficient to pay rent, light, insurance and other needs of the family.  After the spring season, the employees were again placed on a half-time basis and the family budget was again depleted to the extent that the living-room suit was sold to pay rent, light, etc.</p><p>They now moved into cheaper quarters,&mdash;two rooms at $25 per month.  Mrs. Miller tried to secure work but was unsuccessful.  Her husband managed to secure a few weeks&rsquo; temporary work in a garage, earning $25 per week.  In May, 1928, another baby was added to the family.  The family was now assisted with rent by the Family Welfare Association and Mr. Miller secured work with another firm.  After three months&rsquo; work, he was laid off again.</p><p>Mr. Miller now lost confidence in himself.  Conditions at home were such that he had to apply for relief again.  This he refused to do stating that he was a young man, able to work, and was ashamed to receive relief from any agency.  The landlord levied on household goods for the rent.  After the sale, the family moved into a furnished room at $15 per month.  He paid $2 down with the promise for the remainder within one week.  Mr. Miller then called at the settlement for advice and assistance for a regular job of any kind, and was referred to the Family Welfare Association for relief and to the Employment Bureau for employment.</p><p>The former standards of the family are entirely broken down.  The father and mother both stated that they have not attended a moving picture or any other kind of amusement for the past two years.  Last summer they occasionally went to the park and listened to the music and that is the extent of their recreation.  Their insurance has lapsed and neither of them has been able to add to their wardrobe since their marriage.</p><p>Mr. Miller now feels that he should never have married since he believes he is a failure and a poor provider for his wife and children.  The family looks undernourished.  Mrs. <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110153">153</controlpgno><printpgno>102</printpgno></pageinfo>Miller stated that she does not feel well, that she knows she does not have enough nourishment for the baby and that the children are not properly care for.  She decided she would like to place the children in a home where they would receive the proper nourishment and care, and she herself go to work.  However, this was not necessary since the Family Welfare Association is caring for the family.</p></div><div><head>CASE 35<hsep>Kingeley House<lb>CONTILLO<hsep>Pittsburgh, Pa.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Ital.</hi> (<hi rend="italics">M. 45, W. 38</hi>)<lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">14, 13, 10, 8, 6, 3, 1&half;</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Laborer<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">seasonal slackness depression</hi></hi></p><p>Mr. Contillo is one of nine children.  His whole family came to America in 1907.  Mrs. Contillo was also born in Italy, coming here in 1911.  In the sixteen years of their married life, the Contillos have had seven children:  John, 14; Concetta, 13; Antoinette, 10; Amelia, 8; Tony, 6; Jerry, 3; Philomena, 1&half;.  The children have become members of the settlement as soon as they were able to join activities.  Mrs. Contillo is regular is regular in her attendance at the Mothers&rsquo; Club, and comes to all special events to which she is invited.</p><p>Mr. Contillo has always been a laborer, working for whatever company advertised for workers.  A year and a half is the longest time that he has ever worked for any one company, but his periods between jobs were rarely more than a week.  Excepting the winter of 1921, Mr. Contillo had never lost more than a month during the winter because of the seasonal character of his work, until 1927, when he lost three months.  This past winter, 1928-29, he has had no steady work for five months, an only ten days of special work.  He blames his unemployment on the general business <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110154">154</controlpgno><printpgno>103</printpgno></pageinfo>depression saying that though 1921 was bad, in that skilled workers were laid off in great numbers, 1928-29 was the worst winter for ordinary laborers of any in the past twenty years.</p><p>Mrs. Contillo speaks glowingly of the days during the war and just after, when they bought most of the furniture which now graces their home, when they did not have to take in boarders and had meat every day.  They even made arrangements to buy a home, but the depression of 1921 changed this decision.  Ever since, the Contillos have been rather unstable because of the uncertainly of steady work and the depression which has become characteristic of Mr. Contillo when he is out of work.</p><p>Mr. Contillo&apos;s unemployment for the past five months has not yet seriously affected the family physically.  Though they had no savings they are managing nicely on credit.  Mrs. Contillo has taken in two skilled laborers as boarders, and though this has meant putting two beds in each bedroom, they still have a house to themselves and have not yet applied for relief to any social agency.  However, Mrs. Contillo is changing her menus to meet their straitened conditions.  The children, though still warmly, are not so attractively dressed.  Mrs. Contillo&apos;s brothers also give money, groceries and clothes to the family when Mrs. Contillo finds it necessary to ask for help from them.</p><p>Mrs. Contillo says that having no money this past winter except from the boarders has meant that everything is getting shabby, and that if they do not get new blankets and sheets soon the children will have to sleep in their clothes.</p><p>Because of a neighbor&apos;s death while receiving clinical care, Mrs. Contilo is fearful of clinics, and refuses to have the children&apos;s tonsils removed until she can have a doctor she knows.  There have been many other health problems in the home,&mdash;Amelia needing care for scabies and pediculosis frequently, but when Mrs. Contillo is told that these point to lack of care, she admits that with seven children, two boarders and a husband always drunk, it is difficult to care for everything. <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110155">155</controlpgno><printpgno>104</printpgno></pageinfo>She says she knows Amelia shouldn&apos;t sleep with the other children because she&apos;s always giving them things, but Mr. Contillo refuses to have her in their bed, so what can she do?</p><p>The greatest disaster resulting from Mr. Contillo&apos;s unemployment has been its effect on his point of view.  Before this last siege, he was cheerful, fond of children, content with Mrs. Contillo&apos;s management of the house and very neighborly.  The two factors, his unemployment and his neighborliness, have proved his undoing.  After looking everywhere for work, after the electrical company dismissed him in September, 1928, he was convinced by his friends and neighbors (who were suffering the same hardship) that there was no work to be had.  So he has become a steady drinker, though before he was never drunk except on holidays.  He has also been helping neighbors who are bootleggers, though he does not share in their profits.  Mrs. Contillo says that half the time he sits by the fire drunk; occasionally, he is violent toward the children and frequently threatens to kill the boarders, so she is afraid they may leave.</p><p>In the midst of the visitor&apos;s conversation, one of the boarders emerged half-dressed from his bedroom (formerly the Contillos&rsquo; parlor) to finish dressing in the kitchen and to translate Mrs. Contillo&apos;s Italian to the visitor.  Then he said, &ldquo;I know myself, when I ain&apos;t got work, I want to forget, too.  This is a bad place to live [meaning the United States] if a man ain&apos;t got a steady job&mdash;all them pool rooms and joints; why shouldn&apos;t he get drunk all the time?  No, he never was like this before, but he tried for six weeks and couldn&apos;t find nothing, so he got to believing his pals,&mdash;about there being no work.  He tried to kill himself once, but Mrs. Contillo don&apos;t know it.  Perhaps she&apos;d rather he did.  But he&apos;ll die soon enough if he keeps on drinking that poison.  It&apos;s tough on the family; that&apos;s why me and my pal stick here; they need our money to help out.  His being like that [a jerk of the thumb indicated Mr. Contillo, who was staring at the group, mouth open, his eyes glazed and unseeing] <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110156">156</controlpgno><printpgno>105</printpgno></pageinfo>that&apos;s enough to make Mrs. Contillo sore all the time.  She&apos;s always hitting the kids and yelling at him.  She was so happy before.  He&apos;s different from when I first came here.  Now his friends have fun getting him drunk like that, and then laugh at what he says.&rdquo;</p><p>When reproached with this situation, Mr. Contillo agrees that it is bad, but says that he looked for work for six weeks and he was a fool to look for so long a time, for there won&apos;t ever be any more work for laborers.</p><p>This attitude at first distressed the family.  Now they accept it and try to put him to bed whenever the boarders are home or friends call on the family.  Mrs. Contillo says she would have tried to get help from some agency but felt no organization would help her when they saw that her husband was drunk all the time.  She feels very bitterly the unfairness of his getting &ldquo;hooch&rdquo; so easily without money while she has such difficulty in persuading the grocer to give her credit.  The oldest boy is very slow mentally, and Mrs. Contillo feels he will be of no help; he even loses his paper money before he gets home!</p><p>She is having more and more difficulty in controlling the younger children, and is helpless in the face of Jerry&apos;s temper tantruma.  &ldquo;He makes me so nervous,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;some day I shall kill him.&rdquo;  The children are all conscious of their mother&apos;s anger toward their father and they seem very ashamed of him.  They are fond of the boarders, who take quite an interest in their home.  One of the children said she wished that her father would die so that her mother could marry the boarder, and they&apos;d have things nice!</p><p>The future is also a black part of the picture.  It seems improbable that Mr. Contillo will ever become a steady laborer again.  He speaks of joining some neighboring bootleggers and feels that if he does get in with them he can support his family more easily.  Mrs. Contillo has lost all her former contentment and sense of security.  She refuses to look at the future of her children, feeling that each one will have to go to work as soon as possible, even the girls&mdash;a prospect she <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110157">157</controlpgno><printpgno>106</printpgno></pageinfo>considers a terrible disgrace.  She admits that soon she will have to get &ldquo;charity&rdquo; and join the &ldquo;beggars.&rdquo;  She does not entirely blame Mr. Contillo, but she does blame their friends for having led him into such evil ways.  She is more hopeful than he of the possibility of his finding work in the spring, but she feels every winter will be a repetition of this one, now that he has lost hope.</p></div><div><head>CASE 36<hsep>Lincoln House<lb>DOHANEY<hsep>Boston, Mass.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Irish</hi> (<hi rend="italics">M. 27; W. 24</hi>)<lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">4, 2</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Carpenter by Trade; Misc. Makeshifts<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">seasonal slackness</hi></hi></p><p>This is the story of a delightful young Irish family by the name of Dohaney, the father, James, 27, and the mother, Dorothy, 24.  There are two young children, John, 4, and &ldquo;Sister,&rdquo; 2.</p><p>The father is the chief breadwinner and was last employed by the Boston Elevated, his wages being $27.50.  James has worked for the transfer company and the lumber company as tallyman and for the telephone company as stock man.  He is a carpenter by trade and a union man, so that when work is slack he can usually find work building.</p><p>James left school when he was 14 to help support a large family, but he went to night school up to the second year of high.  He has also attended the Telephone Night School and has taken every opportunity to improve himself.</p><p>James and Dorothy live in a little apartment of three rooms on a very poor and unattractive street to be near his family.  They are a devoted young couple.  Dorothy has an artificial hand and faces his incapacity with great courage and cheerfulness.  She takes great pride in keeping her house neat and in the care of her children.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110158">158</controlpgno><printpgno>107</printpgno></pageinfo><p>In November, just as James lost his job, the baby became ill and died.  This was a hard blow for them, for they were making plans to move to better quarters, but they faced the adversity with great courage together.</p><p>When James was first married, he had been working for two years for the telephone company as stock man.  The third year he was there, an efficiency manager came and James was laid off just before John, the first baby, was born.  He was out of work about two weeks and then found work with the elevated company in the Maintenance Department.  He has worked four years in this department and during that time he has been laid off every year because they seem to employ this method in the department.  When the money that has been apportioned is almost used up, about forty men are discharged and are not recalled until the budget is made up again.  Sometimes the men wait from February to May to be recalled.  James was always one of the last to be laid off, and during the years he has worked for the elevated company he has usually been able to find other work until this year.  He usually got building work, as he was a union man and could make from $30 to $40 a week if he worked over-time.  This year the only thing that he could get was two or three hours&rsquo; dishwashing averaging $4 a week.  He was out of work from November to the middle of February and tried desperately to find work and was willing to do anything.</p><p>Last year when James was laid off his wife was ill, and although he was out of work only two weeks on account of illness, he borrowed $100 from the Credit Union, of which all but $44 has been paid back weekly.  This year he has been out of work so long that the small savings which they had did not see them through, because just as James lost his job, the baby died, and what savings there were had to go to doctors, and there is a funeral bill yet to be paid.</p><p>In order to meet the rent, insurance, union dues and instalments on the furniture, Dorothy pawned her wedding ring for $100, and when she had only $13 of this left, the <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110159">159</controlpgno><printpgno>108</printpgno></pageinfo>settlement worker applied to the Family Welfare organization to help them out.  This brought great comfort to the family, until the settlement finally found work for James in a department store.</p><p>Dorothy tells me that it was very hard to get the medicines John needed when he was ill, and she had to cut down on fruit for him and also on meat for the family.  She is worried a great deal, although she has tried to keep up the courage of the family and not show her anxiety.</p><p>James has been nervous and irritable during this period many times.  He said he guessed he never would come back because the family would be just as well taken care of if the were not there.  Dorothy kept up her courage and only broke down herself after he was asleep.  They did not want to ask for help, but it became absolutely necessary.</p><p>When the relief society offered to buy a new artificial hand for Dorothy, James cried because he said he hated to have anyone do the thing he wanted to do so badly himself.</p><p>The worker does not feel that unemployment has curtailed this family&apos;s possibility of securing relaxation and recreation.  They both turn more often to the settlement house.  It would also seem that, in this family, with their adversity suffered together, the man and wife have been brought even more closely together than before.</p></div><div><head>CASE 37<hsep>Elizabeth Peabody House<lb>DESANTIS<hsep>Boston, Mass.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Ital.parentage) (M. 29, W. 27)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">5 yrs. old, another baby coming</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Printer<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">mechanization. women replacing men in<lb>non-union shops at smaller wages</hi></hi></p><p>Joseph and Clara DeSantis are of Italian parentage, born in the United States.  Clara, aged 5, is their only child, but another child is expected in May.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110160">160</controlpgno><printpgno>109</printpgno></pageinfo><p>Mr. DeSantis is a printer by trade, who worked steadily during the first five years of his married life.  A year ago, he lost his job and has only picked up a few odd days a week since.  He says that many printers are walking the streets as machines are &ldquo;turning men out of printers&rsquo; shops,&rdquo; and in non-union shops, women are taken on who will work for less money than men.  Mrs. DeSantis works in a restaurant for $15 a week.  This meets the rent of $24 a month and carries the insurance on the child and the mother.  There is also insurance on the father&apos;s life of $1,000.</p><p>Mr. DeSantis&rsquo; mother helps with clothing for the baby and the family frequently dines with her.  She cannot do more, however.  To get clothes for himself and wife, Mr.DeSantis has pawned his watch for $6 and a banjo for $15.  He says if he does not meet the interest on the money raised from the pawnbroker, both watch and banjo are &ldquo;gone forever.&rdquo;  Not long ago, Mr. DeSantis saw an &ldquo;ad&rdquo; which promised money could be made by selling toilet articles.  Taking all the cash he had, $32, he sent for the supply.  He had to pay $3 expressage and made only $12 in two weeks.  Cut price drug stores could sell cheaper than he could.  Mr. DeSantis says he was ashamed to go his friends and ask them to buy.</p><p>Mrs. DeSantis says that she thought Mr. DeSantis was &ldquo;well off&rdquo; when she married him and that she would be happy.  Now she is discouraged  and does not know what she will do when the baby comes, for she cannot work.  She says she takes no pleasure any more in anything.  Her pride will not permit her to go anywhere because she has no clothes &ldquo;fit to be seen in.&rdquo;  Three weeks ago, the settlement succeeded in getting Mr. DeSantis a job in a garage as &ldquo;checker&rdquo;, for $16 a week.  He wants to go back to the printers&rsquo; trade at $35 per week and seems discouraged and broken-spirited, and frightens his wife by saying he does not know why he lives.</p></div><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110161">161</controlpgno><printpgno>110</printpgno></pageinfo><div><head>CASE 38<hsep>College Settlement<lb>JERRY<hsep>Philadelphia, Pa.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Ital. parentage)<lb>18 yrs. old</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Unskilled Worker<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">slack business</hi></hi></p><p>&ldquo;Gee! I wish I was dead.&rdquo;  Thus Jerry, aged 18, in great dejection concluded a recital of his fruitless attempts to get a job.</p><p>Jerry is a likable boy.  From the time he entered the Settlement Kindergarten, all girth, grin and grime, to the present, he has been likeable.  This is why when his last home was broken up, a neighbor squeezed him into his three-room house where already he had seven children of his own.</p><p>Jerry has been out of work for four months, and has been dependent on his forest-father for food and clothing during that time.  Occasionally, he makes a little change on Sunday shining shoes.</p><p>In reply to &ldquo;where do you look for work?&rdquo;  came the answer:  &ldquo;All over.  I have a regular route.  I start out every morning at six o&apos;clock.  First, I go over to Jersey to the soup factory, a furniture factory and a printing place.  Every place you get  the same:  &lsquo;We&apos;re slack.  We don&apos;t need anyone!&rsquo;  Then I cross the river again and I go up Delaware Avenue as far as Girard and stop at all the factories and printing places; then I try the fruit and produce places along the dock.  Next I go up Race Street as far as Ninth and down Arch Street on both sides of the street to Sixth.  On my way back, I stop at the Curtis Publishing Company.  Then it is twelve o&apos;clock and I come home.  Everywhere there are lots of men asking for jobs.  Sometimes they just say, &lsquo;We don&apos;t need anyone.&rsquo;  The other day I answered an &lsquo;ad.&rsquo;  &lsquo;When I got there, there were forty people applying.  The man looked us over, picked out one and said, &lsquo;I&apos;ll take you and pay you $15 a week.&rsquo;  Another fellow in the crowd called out, &lsquo;I&apos;d <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110162">162</controlpgno><printpgno>111</printpgno></pageinfo>work for $10.&rsquo;  Then the man said, &lsquo;All right, I&apos;ll take you for $10&rsquo; and didn&apos;t hire the other fellow.</p><p>&ldquo;I don&apos;t know what I&apos;m going to do now.  My stepfather was drunk last night, and said a lot of things about having to keep me for nothing and he didn&apos;t believe I looked for a job.  So I went out of the house and walked the streets all night.  I&apos;m not going back.  I&apos;m not going anywhere till I can pay my board.  I wish I could have gone to high school.  Then maybe I could have found work,&mdash;but I didn&apos;t have the chance.&rdquo;</p><p>No, Jerry didn&apos;t have the chance with his father, long since in a drunkard&apos;s grave, and his handsome mother, whose morale was worn down to the breaking point before she died, with his haphazard existence with an older brother, and then a sister, until each home in turn was disrupted by marital troubles.  No, Jerry didn&apos;t have a chance.  Does he have a chance in the future?</p></div><div><head>CASE 39<hsep>Neighborhood House<lb>LEIGHTON<hsep>Louiville, Ky.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 37; 2.35)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">15, 12, 10, 8, 5, 2</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Factory Worker Firing Boilers<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>Mr. and Mrs. Leighton have six children:  Margaret, 15; Lillian, 12; James, 10; Frank, 8; Curtis, 5; and Dorothy, 2.  The father and mother have had common schooling, with no special training.</p><p>The father has been a factory worker, generally firing boilers.  When work was good, he made as much as $20 to $25 a week.  The family is from Texas.  Here Mr. Leighton worked steadily until December, 1928.  When he was laid off, he &ldquo;piled&rdquo; his family into a Ford and drove to Louisville, arriving here on Christmas Eve.  Not dressed for the cold weather here, his family suffered from colds.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110163">163</controlpgno><printpgno>112</printpgno></pageinfo><p>Mr. Leighton lost his position in Texas because of the business depression.  Arriving in Louisville, he secured a position as boiler firer at the Arctic Ice Company.  But the work proved to be only temporary.  Next he secured work at a box factory.  It, too, was only temporary.  His next job was at the Frog and Switch Company, a great distance from where the family was rooming.  Not being able to raise funds with which to secure a license for the Ford, he walked many miles to work each day.  But just as he planned to move his family nearer the factory, the sawdust bins caught fire and he was out of a job again.  He has applied for many positions.  On one &ldquo;ad&rdquo; he answered for a farm hand, he was told that over two hundred applications had been received for the job in two days.  He was then called back to the Frog and Switch Company.  But it was only for a few days, for a high wind did so much damage to the out-buildings that the factory shut down and Leighton was again out of work.  At present he is without funds.</p><p>The Leightons had a small amount of savings when they first came to Louisville, but this is now exhausted.  The family is several months in arrears with the rent, but they have not applied for aid to any agency as yet.</p><p>Unused to Kentucky winters and unprepared for out winters in regard to clothes, the wife and children have suffered from colds all winter.  At the time the small boy was ill, they were unable to afford having a doctor.</p><p>The Leightons have faced the unemployment problem with determination and fortitude.  Mr. Leighton and his wife, however, are at present quarrelling about going further north in the search for work.  Leighton feels if the family went to Detroit or Akron, he could find work in the automobile industries.  Mrs. Leighton dreads the cold further north and declares it will be detrimental to the children&apos;s health.  She was very emphatic about this, telling the visitor, &ldquo;My man wants to go to Detroit or Akron, thinkin&rsquo; he&apos;d get work with makin&rsquo; automobiles, but I allus tell him no siree, we ain&apos;t agoin&rsquo; that fer North with no job first.  It&apos;s too cold fer <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110164">164</controlpgno><printpgno>113</printpgno></pageinfo>the children and how do we know it&apos;ll be differen&rsquo; there than it is here?  ... But honest, if somethin&rsquo; don&apos;t open soon, I don&apos;t know what&apos;ll happen to us and the kids.&rdquo;</p></div><div><head>CASE 40<hsep>Haarlem House<lb>DONEY<hsep>New York City, N.Y.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Ital.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 49, W. 45)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">20, 19, 14, 12, 6, 4, 3 mos.</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Skilled Wood-Finisher<lb>Unemployment Reported Due To:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression, market changes, mechanization, etc.</hi></hi></p><p>Mr. and Mrs. Doney came to the United States from Sicily twenty-four years ago.</p><p>The father is a skilled cabinet-maker and furniture polisher, with the best references.  In the last nineteen years he has worked eight years for one piano company, five years for another and six years for a third.  He lost his last job in October, 1927, for lack of work.  His wages had been $45 a week.  At that time Carlo earned $18 and Fanny, who was working in a factory, earned $14.  Fanny, however, was married in June, 1928.  The family&apos;s standard of living was quite high.  They had a comparatively good and expensive apartment at $55 a month.  All members of the family had a certain dignity.  The children were very clean, well-dressed and exceptionally well-bred.</p><p>Mr. Doney&apos;s unemployement was due to various causes, but primarily to the general business depression and market changes.  In connection with the latter, Mr. Doney felt that victrolas and radios took the place of pianos in many homes.  Mechanization, too, has been a factor since the manufacture of furniture by machine makes skilled handwork unnecessary.</p><p>Since Mr. Doney lost his position in 1927 he has worked for only a few weeks at his own trade at the beginning of 1928.  For three months he tried very hard to get into a <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110165">165</controlpgno><printpgno>114</printpgno></pageinfo>piano or furniture factory.  We gave him a list of every firm in the city and more than thirty letters of introduction.  Morning after morning he started out, to come home in the evening tired and disappointed.  After he had found a temporary position, he never came again to me.  He felt ashamed.  He did all kinds of work, painting and fixing woodwork and furniture.  But it was always only a few days&rsquo; work between long weeks of unemployment.  Once his work was stopped by the labor union.</p><p>It is difficult to know the effect of unemployment upon the family&apos;s financial arrangements.  They are, as I said before, very proud and ashamed of being in need.  At one time they had great difficulty in paying their rent.  The salary of the son, who works only five days a week, has been used for food and the income from the occasional jobs of the father for rent.</p><p>Mary (14) is trying to help by doing errands for Haarlem House.  One day, when she received 50 cents, she told the secretary that she would buy food with it, as there had been none in the house that day.</p><p>They still live in the same apartment, for they desperately try to keep up the appearance of their former standard of life.</p><p>The family has not asked any organization for relief and has not received anything.</p><p>The change of standard of living has been noticed in their change of diet, which has been reduced to the most necessary, and probably sometimes even insufficient, food.  The children look very pale, thin and anemic.</p><p>They have been unable to buy any new clothes in the last year.  The children look shabby, though neat and very clean.  The mother scarcely ever goes out, as she has nothing decent to wear.  She cannot take her baby out as the child is very heavy and they cannot buy a carriage for her.  No new furnishings for the house have been bought.</p><p>The father has changed very much since he is no longer the principal breadwinner of the family.  He used to be the <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110166">166</controlpgno><printpgno>115</printpgno></pageinfo>master of the house.  Now he has an attitude of humiliation even in his own home.  His wife reproaches him before the children and visitors and he does not say a word.  He still goes about seeking a job, but without much enthusiasm.  When he gets an odd job or so he does not look at the person who gives it to him and one sees that he feels very much ashamed.  The wife seems to be provoked generally as well as against her husband.  She is, of course, in a desperate mood and keeps on reproaching her husband.</p><p>The children do not seem to have changed in their attitude toward the father.  They seem rather philosophical about their situation&mdash;Carlo and Mary seeming to suffer the most from it, Carlo by having to give up all his salary to the family and Mary by having to do too much work for her age.  She has practically no recreation.  She graduated from grammar school last fall.  As she is very bright, we would like her to go on with her studies next fall, but we are afraid that the situation of the father will not change and she will have to leave school in order to help support the family.</p></div><div><head>CASE 41<hsep>Kingsley House<lb>CARBINO<hsep>Pittsburgh, Pa.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Ital.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 44; W. 38)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">21, 19, 15, 13, 10, 6</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Carpenter; Now Gardener&apos;s Helper<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>The Carbinos are Italian.  There are six children:  Carmen, 21; Louis, 19; Christine, 15; Anthony, 13; Virginia, 10; Josephine, 6.  The family has only been known to the Kingsley House a short-time&mdash;having recently moved to this neighborhood.</p><p>Mr. Carbino is a carpenter by trade, but does not belong to the union.  He has had very little schooling.  With the <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110167">167</controlpgno><printpgno>116</printpgno></pageinfo>exception of a short period in 1915 and again a longer period in 1922, during the business depression (when he got temporary work in a five-and-ten-cent store), Mr. Carbino has worked steadily as a carpenter, holding his job for several years at a time.  In 1923, he started work with the city, earning $5 a day and working six days a week.  He asked for more money when he had been with the city for four years, but was refused.  Just at this time (1927) a gardener asked him to work as his helper and promised him $140 a month.  He accepted thinking he was bettering his position, but the man went back on his promise and he only received $120,&mdash;the same as he was getting with the city.  When he had been working for the gardener a few weeks, he had an accident and lost his job.  He was sick for a while, but since his recovery has been unable to get work.  Then he saw a building going up, and asked for work.  He was taken on and the job lasted six months.  That is the only work he has had for nearly two years.  He has an excellent record as a carpenter.</p><p>In 1919, sickness overtook them.  Mrs. Carbino had to go to the hospital; Tony was very delicate and needed treatment, and Virginia had pneumonia.  For the next few years there was a great deal of trouble and illness in the family.  During 1921 and 1922, Mrs. Carbino was in the hospital for weeks at a time, and Mr. Carbino was a long time out of work.  To help out, one of the social agencies tried to place some of the younger children, but it was to cost more than they could afford to pay, so they remained at home and Carmen took care of them while the mother was in the hospital and the father out looking for work.  At this time, Louis stayed away from school and was referred to the Juvenile Court for delinquency, but was released and sent home on probation.  In 1923, the youngest child was born.  Louis was again referred to the Juvenile Court for truancy in 1924, was released and sent home on probation.  Last year, he ran away and joined the Army.  Mrs. Carbino told us, &ldquo;He was always a bit wild,&mdash;ever since that first time Mister <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110168">168</controlpgno><printpgno>117</printpgno></pageinfo>was out of work and I was sick&mdash;seems as if we never could get Louis in hand again after that.&rdquo;</p><p>Since 1919 it has been a tremendous struggle to keep their home.  It was crowded but very clean.  The children were always tidy and nicely dressed.  Mrs. Carbino bought clothes from the A. I. P. and fixed them for the family, and a school teacher gave her clothes which always fitted the eldest girl.  Mrs. Carbino has always had a great pride in her family and is ambitious for them; she is trying very hard to let them get an education.  Of Carmen, her eldest boy, she says:  &ldquo;Carmen, he&apos;s crazy about drawing and painting&mdash;he&apos;s twenty and ever since he was a boy he&apos;s wanted to be an artist.  He seems different from the rest of us&mdash;more refined-like.  He&apos;s been at night school two years and he has just won a scholarship to Carnegie Art School; he&apos;s kept himself, but he&apos;s never made any money for us.  He lost an eye through an accident and we spent all we had to get his artificial eye good, for we didn&apos;t want it to spoil his future.&rdquo;</p><p>All the Carbinos have a good appearance and pleasing manners.</p><p>With the large family and the many illnesses, Mr. Carbino&apos;s $120 a month did not permit savings, and there were even some debts before unemployment struck them, but when there was no work, the debts mounted rapidly.  They owed rent; the grocer, $200; one of the hospitals, $35; a friend, $300.  They kept their home together, however, and paid some of the money due on the back rent and $80 of the $200 owed to the grocer during the six months&rsquo; temporary work.  Four months ago, they had to give up their home and go to live with Mrs. Carbino&apos;s mother, Mrs. Tomalo.  Their furniture was stored in Mrs. Tomalo&apos;s garage at the back of the home.  For these four months the Carbinos have been entirely dependent on Mrs. Carbino&apos;s mother and her three sons who help to support that home.  The Carbinos have much pride and suffer keenly on account of this.  It is also creating a bad situation, for the brothers resent the additional expense.  They constantly complain and Mrs. Carbino <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110169">169</controlpgno><printpgno>118</printpgno></pageinfo>is distressed.  This leads to bitter feeling and tends towards a family break.</p><p>They have had assistance from social agencies in their medical problems.  A social agency has also tried to find jobs for Mr. Carbino.  The parents are trying to get Louis released from the Army so that he can come home and help during this time of economic distress.  Carmen has not helped to support the family in any way.  He has now been referred to the Bureau of the Handicapped&mdash;for he has lost an eye&mdash;and the Bureau is trying to get him a job.</p><p>The family has not suffered physically.  The schools report the children in good condition.  Being able to make their home with Mrs. Carbino&apos;s mother when they became absolutely in dire need has made it possible for them, so far, to keep up outward standards.  Two of the children attended the Free Dispensary for eye trouble in 1925 and received glasses.  The mother is not strong enough to do hard work or to take on outside work, although she occasionally does.</p><p>Mr. Carbino is despondent and has lost courage.  He sits for long spells in silence and worries about the debts and about not being able to support his family.  He goes out every day to seek work.  He has registered with a social agency, which reports that he has a very good record as a workman, but is particular as to the kind of job he will take.</p><p>Carmen&apos;s highly artistic and emotional temperament, in addition to the handicap, has led him to imagine he can do no work exept that connected with his art.  The struggles of the family, the conditions at present existing, his handicap, his inability to be able to carry out his heart&apos;s desire in devoting his life to art,&mdash;have all tended to make him bitter rather than to make him face the situation with courage.</p><p>The attitude of the whole family towards the father-out-of-a-job is splendid.  They are devoted to him.  None of the children or Mrs. Carbino is at all censorious, but instead strive to cheer and encourage him.  The only lack of harmony comes from the present situation between the Carbinos and Tomalos.  Mrs. Carbino says, &ldquo;My mother has the old country <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110170">170</controlpgno><printpgno>119</printpgno></pageinfo>ways and doesn&apos;t want the children ever to go out anywhere or to dance or have a good time, and that causes all sorts of trouble.  If only Mister had work, so we could pay some of the expense we owe, we&apos;d feel different.  It&apos;s been so long now, it seems as if it&apos;s never going to get better.&rdquo;</p><p>There is no money for recreation.  Mrs. Carbino comes to the Mothers&rsquo; Club at the settlement; the two youngest children also come for activities, but the dues are not paid.  As mentioned earlier, unemployment has lessened the chances of the eldest son to develop his artistic talent.  He will be forced to work to help support those at home if Mr. Carbino does not find work.  So far the education of the other children is still going on.</p></div><div><head>CASE 42<hsep>Settlement Music School<lb>SAM COHEN<hsep>Philadelphia, Pa.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Jewish; Rus.-Ruman. parentage)</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">19 yrs. old</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Misc. Unskilled Worker in Shirt<lb>Factory, in Paper Novelty Factory,<lb>Grocery Warehouse, etc.<lb>Unemployment Reported Due To:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>This story deals primarily with Sam Cohen, 19 years old, but some history of his family is given to furnish the background necessary for an understanding of it.  The family, with a Rumanian father and a Russian mother, has lived in the neighborhood for many years.  Of the six children, five are sons and live at home; the daughter, 24, is married and lives in her own home.  The oldest son, 28, is mentally deficient; the next oldest is a &ldquo;sport&rdquo; and will not work.  Arthur, 22, is a paperhanger, and Abe, 17, was expelled from school.</p><p>The father, who died two years ago, was a miser of a confirmed type, who contrived to save $14,000 from running a dry-goods stand.  His family welcomed his death, says Sam, who has considerable fineness in his makeup, and whose boyhood <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110171">171</controlpgno><printpgno>120</printpgno></pageinfo>was imbittered by the needles humiliations put upon him by his father.  &ldquo;No one can know how I suffered in high school because of the old and dirty clothes he made me wear.&rdquo;  (He is immaculate now.)  &ldquo;He didn&apos;t want me to go to high school and made it almost impossible for me to study.  We were living in a few rooms then&mdash;and had no privacy&mdash;and he was always after me.  He was cruel to me&mdash;used to pinch up my flesh and twist it; he was terrible!  He didn&apos;t drink at all.  I didn&apos;t know how to act with people when I first went to high school&mdash;had never met girls&mdash;didn&apos;t know manners.  People laughed at me.&rdquo;</p><p>After graduating from high school with good grades in the academic course, Sam entered a second rate college in the city.  His father had died meanwhile and the money he left had been divided among the mother and children.  With this money, the mother bought a house, heavily mortgaged, and banked the remainder, from which she secures a small return in interest.  Sam took $300 of his share, borrowed $125, and got an evening job at a theatre selling candy at $6 a week (7 P.M. till 1 A.M.).  He found before long that he could not do his college work and finance himself at the same time, and gave it up.  Next he tried normal school, on his mother&apos;s urging, but did not want to teach, and so gave this up.  The one thing he wants to do is office work, and for this he wants a course in a business college, but as yet cannnot save for it.</p><p>Last summer he got his first job,&mdash;a cutter&apos;s position in a shirt factory at $15, which after two months was increased to $16. He worked here for six months, till the factory closed down.  &ldquo;It was better than nothing.  ... The foreman was sorry to see me go.  I was always ahead of my work.&rdquo;</p><p>For three and a half months after this, Sam (who is now 19) hunted a job daily.  Work was slack, and he had neither special training nor experience.  Only one brother was working, and the tension at home grew daily.  Sam was feverishly restless and anxious.  &ldquo;Only gloom at home.  I can&apos;t stay <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110172">172</controlpgno><printpgno>121</printpgno></pageinfo>there.  My mother has turned against me.  She won&apos;t believe I can&apos;t find work.  No money for anything.  Nothing to do at home&mdash;no money for few records.&rdquo;</p><p>At last he got a makeshift job at $8 a week, pasting in a paper-novelty shop where there were only three or four other workers.  &ldquo;I never saw such coarse people.  ... I don&apos;t have to use my mind at all.  A dummy could do my work.  ... My mother thinks I am earning more than $8 and holding it back.  I wish you&apos;d tell her.&rdquo;  After about two months here, he was again laid off as work slackened.</p><p>Through the settlement, he finally secured work with one of the established large grocery concerns of the city.  The only job open was one in the warehouse.  There was a chance of working up slowly.  The work was heavy for him but he took it, at $15 a week.  His record has been excellent.  He looks like a different person with the strain gone.  But last week with the opening of summer, he was laid off and is again in the market for a job.  Until he can get either the training or the experience which will help him compete, his alertness, intelligence and dependability apparently cannot save him from a succession of &ldquo;short stands.&rdquo;  At present, he is picking apples to tide him over the summer.</p><p>Sam turns more and more to the settlement for his recreation, stating that he cannot stay in his home,&mdash;that it is no home.  He is the only member of his family to finish high school, in which he made a good record.</p></div><div><head>CASE 43<hsep>Washington Neighborhood House<lb>LEFEVRE<hsep>Minneapolis, Minn.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Fr. Can.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 54)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">24, 12, 11</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Carpenter; Tilen Drayman<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">oversupply of labor with return of soldiers</hi></hi></p><p>Mr. and Mrs. LeFevre were French Canadians who were living in Superior, Wisconsin, in 1919.  The family included <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110173">173</controlpgno><printpgno>122</printpgno></pageinfo>three girls; the eldest was then 14 and not of average mentality, the little girls were 1 and 2&half; years.  The father was 44 years of age and deeply interested in his home.  He had graduated from the eighth grade, learned the carpenter trade, but at this time was working as a full-time drayman at $50 per week.  The family was living in its own home, which had cost $3,500, of which $2,000 had been paid.  It was completely furnished at a cost of $1,100 which was all paid.  The family was faithful in church attendance, and paid yearly $75 toward its support.  Mrs. LeFevre was active in the ladies&rsquo; organization, which cost about a dollar a month.  Mr. LeFevre was a member in good standing of three lodges, costing some $60 a year.</p><p>With the return of the soldiers, wages came down and Mr. LeFevre lost his job.  It was necessary to move to another city to secure work and then at only $25 per week.  The family had always lived on their income and continued to do so, which meant letting go all church and lodge connections, finally losing the house, and eventually selling the furniture to make possible a move to a larger city in the hope of better opportunities.  Only short time jobs were secured during this period.  Then a period of sickness cut off the family income entirely and they were obliged to turn to the Family Welfare to prevent eviction.</p><p>When the family came to the attention of the settlement house, its five members were all living in one room.  The room was clean but poorly lighted and ventilated.  The mother was in very poor health, undernourished, and in need of special hospital and dental care.  The father was not well, more from worry than from any other cause.  The oldest daughter had an illegitimate child.  The school work of the two younger children was not quite up to normal.</p><p>Mr. LeFevre has faced these changes courageously but has grown bitter and hard.  He still has initiative and interest, but is gruff, often surly, and is hard to work with.  The <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110174">174</controlpgno><printpgno>123</printpgno></pageinfo>mother is repressed, utterly weary in spirit, and seldom goes anywhere.  She makes the children&apos;s clothing over and over, trying to keep a fair appearance.  The young girls are apparently unspoiled, but the older one of these two has a fear of being imposed upon.</p><p>During the last few years the oldest daughter has worked, but has not been able to completely support herself and her own child.</p><p>At the present time, Mr. LeFevre is earning $85 per month, and it seems unlikely that he will ever earn more.  He said recently, &ldquo;It is too late now to ever come back; all we can ever do is just make a living.&rdquo;  It is impossible to save any money.  The young girls help out a little by caring for children and will have to go to work at unskilled tasks as soon as the law permits.  The small rooms where the family lives will soon be unattractive, and it will be hard to keep the girls off the street.</p></div><div><head>CASE 44<hsep>South End House<lb>MALOOF<hsep>Boston, Mass.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Syrian</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 43, W. 43)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">6 chn, oldest dau. married</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Shoemaker; Later Shoe Factory Worker<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>We have known the Maloof family for four years.  Then Nellie was eleven years old and went to our Vacation House with her younger sister.  At that time they owned a three-family brick house, using the basement and first floor for themselves.  They had a second-hand Ford and Nellie and Amelia were able to pay for their vacations and were adequately clothed and prepared.</p><p>The family has always been a happy one.  Mr. Maloof loved to tell stories to the children and have them with him. <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110175">175</controlpgno><printpgno>124</printpgno></pageinfo>Mrs. Maloof has a very sunny disposition and is a good cook and homemaker.</p><p>Mr. Maloof came from Beirut, Syria, in 1905, and, as he was a shoemaker there, followed the same trade in this country.  Later he went into a shoe factory, and being skilled earned good wages.  He married, seven years later, the sister of his chum, who came from the same place.  She had worked on a power machine for two years after her arrival here, prior to her marriage.  They have six children.  The eldest daughter was recently married.  When we knew them best, Nellie and Amelia were taking violin and piano lessons and enjoying music immensely.</p><p>For the past two years Mr. Maloof&apos;s work has been very slack and for the first time in his life he could not find work.  The shoe trade in and about Boston has been very poor for several years Plant&apos;s, the large factory in Jamaica Plain, has discharged many men and women.  It shut down for short periods and also employed the workers only three days a week.  Mr. Maloof worked there and at other factories.</p><p>They sold the car, then had to part with the house when they could not meet the payments on the heavy mortgages.  They moved into a very poor tenement and are now living in a better tenement but on a more run-down street.  The children have stopped then music and the mother cannot have dentistry done as she had planned.</p><p>She says Mr. Maloof gets only 90 cents for a case of shoes which formerly paid him $1.25 and he has to work so fast and hard that he comes home quite exhausted and is so nervous that he cannot enjoy the children.  She wishes to go out to work in a factory, but he will not allow it and so she is trying to get work to do at home.  She is still cheerful, for, she says, when you marry you become one and that is the only way to help him.  They still have savings, but these are fast going.  The tension of the father has crushed out story-telling and recreation and music from the home.</p></div><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110176">176</controlpgno><printpgno>125</printpgno></pageinfo><div><head>CASE 45<hsep>Recreation Rooms<lb>VEZANTO<hsep>New York City, N. Y.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Ital.<lb>Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">5 chn.</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Laborer: Then Fish Peddler<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">seasonal slackness</hi></hi></p><p>&ldquo;Come in, please!&rdquo;&mdash;this in response to a knock on the door leading into the office of a medical social worker in one of our settlements.  A young Italian-American woman, haggard and worn, enters.</p><p>&ldquo;What&apos;s the matter, Mrs. Vezanto,&rdquo; the nurse asks, &ldquo;are you having trouble again?&rdquo;</p><p>&ldquo;Trouble, Miss Teemer, you said it!  My husband ain&apos;t been working since November and I owe moneys for three months&rsquo; rent and gas and electric, and they come and shut off the gas!  I can&apos;t get no more trust!  The kids is sick and I ain&apos;t got no money.  Every day he goes out looking for a job and he can&apos;t get it.&rdquo;</p><p>&ldquo;Have you asked the welfare society to help you?&rdquo;</p><p>&ldquo;Yeh, but they won&apos;t give me anything; they say my husban&rsquo; should get a job, that he ain&apos;t no good anyhow!  If you will put the kids in a home, I&apos;ll try to work.&rdquo;</p><p>The agency is called by the nurse and it feels that the home should be broken up because the man deserts!  So a friend who is interested in the family pays the gas and electric and supplies milk because the children have been ill.  The social agency would pay an agency fee if a job could be procured for the man, but last year there was so much unemployment that it was impossible to find work for him.</p><p>A day or two after the nurse&apos;s talk with the agency, Mrs. Vezanto returned to the office more distracted than ever.</p><p>&ldquo;Miss Teemer, what I&apos;m goin&rsquo; to do now?  He&apos;s gone four days, I got no moneys, and now comes a dispossess!&rdquo;</p><p>&ldquo;But your husband deserts you often, the agency says.&rdquo;</p><p>&ldquo;No, he don&apos;t!  For the last five years he&apos;s been working <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110177">177</controlpgno><printpgno>126</printpgno></pageinfo>on the same job.  They lays off the mens in November, takes them back in March and they always takes him back!  It&apos;s only when he can&apos;t get work he runs away!&rdquo;</p><p>The home was broken up and the children were committed to state institutions.  The mother and baby were sent to the country.</p><p>Nothing was heard of the man for two months.  When he deserted, the wife had gone to the Family Court to take out a summons.  After an interval of two months, one morning Mrs. Vezanto received a notice from Bellevue Hospital saying that her husband had been knocked down by a truck and injured.  When he was discharged from the hospital he had to appear in court.  The judge urged the man and the woman to start housekeeping again.</p><p>&ldquo;What kind of work do you do?&rdquo; asked the judge.</p><p>&ldquo;I&apos;m laborer,&rdquo; responded Vezanto, &ldquo;but I can&apos;t get a steady job.&rdquo;</p><p>&ldquo;Why did you run away and leave your family to starve?&rdquo;</p><p>&ldquo;&apos;Cause I could not give the kids to eat!&rdquo;</p><p>&ldquo;What kind of work would you like to do?&rdquo; inquired the judge.</p><p>&ldquo;Peddle fish!&rdquo; answered the man.  &ldquo;My father made a good living peddling fish.&rdquo;</p><p>&ldquo;Why didn&apos;t you try it before?&rdquo; said the judge.</p><p>&ldquo;Your Honor, I never gets money enough.  I gotta big family and I always gots debts.  I pay when I gots the money!&rdquo;</p><p>It was the suggested that the members of Mr. Vezanto&apos;s family collect enough money so that he could start a fish route, which he did.  When he was fairly well established, he and his wife took a four-room apartment which they furnished anew.  At the same time an award was made to the man because of his accident.  That money was set aside, a small amount being used for house-furnishings.  The children were taken out of the institutions.</p><p>This is the first winter that the family has not had to face starvation.  They have been able to put a little by to tide <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110178">178</controlpgno><printpgno>127</printpgno></pageinfo>them over the slack winter season.  But the effect of breaking up the home has caused the children to be very suspicious, and the oldest boy is distrustful of his parents.  It is also difficult to get these children into clinics to have their defects corrected.  They fear they are going to be sent away.</p><p>&ldquo;I ain&apos;t wishing my husban&rsquo; any harm,&rdquo; says his wife, &ldquo;but we could not have got up again if he hadn&apos;t been knocked down by that truck!&rdquo;</p></div><div><head>CASE 46<hsep>Cambridge Neighborhood House<lb>ESTRADA<hsep>Cambridge, Mass.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Portug, parentage) (M. 32), (Irish<lb>parentage) (W. 30)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">11, 9, 8, 6, 4, 2</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Truck-Driver<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>The Estrada family is American born of Portuguese and Irish extraction.</p><p>Mr. Estrada, a truck-driver, is the only breadwinner.</p><p>At the time of his marriage, Estrada was working in a factory at machine work.  He was ambitious to become a mechanic.  Owing to an explosion he lost the sight of one eye and was thrown out of employment for a year.  He had to cease payments on a house which he was trying to buy.  During the second year he did any work that he could pick up.  He also passed the civil service requirements for city work, but was refused a job on account of his eye.  In spite of this handicap he obtained a chauffeur&apos;s license, and, soon after, a good position as driver of a delivery truck for a market in Boston.  He earned $30 a week and regular overtime wages of $2.50.  The family moved into another house and again began payments toward buying it.  This was done through a co&ouml;perative bank.</p><p>The home, consisting of six rooms and a bath, was neat <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110179">179</controlpgno><printpgno>128</printpgno></pageinfo>and well kept, and the furniture fairly good.  Living and sleeping conditions were good.  There was a self-respecting standard throughout.  The family was plainly but warmly dressed.  The mother was a good housekeeper.  The father was opposed to drink and had excellent habits.</p><p>About two years ago, Mr. Estrada lost his position as delivery truck-driver.  The company was cutting down the number of employees because of lack of prosperity in the business resulting from the competition of chain stores and because of the general business conditions.  He immediately tried to get factory work, but many Cambridge factories were also laying off men at that time.  He was again unable to get work with the city, and he was out of regular work for approximately ten months.  For a period of five months he had only three or four days of work at very irregular intervals.  During the following months he periodically found work as a longshoreman&mdash;often waiting on the docks until the ships came in to be unloaded.  He applied for work at taxicab companies, and for a short time, substituted as a night driver for a regular man.  He did occasional work for groceries and coal.</p><p>The family had no savings but also no current debts, for they ran no accounts.  The co&ouml;perative bank through which they were buying the house was willing to hold the matter of payments in abeyance, with a claim on the furniture in the house.  The taxes, of course, were accumulating.  The mother of Mrs. Estrada paid enough on gas and water to avoid their being turned off.  She also helped to keep the family in food.  Some assistance was also received from Mr. Estrada&apos;s family.</p><p>Later some outside help was received in the form of food and coal.  At Christmas time through a social agency the children were provided with clothing and Christmas cheer was made possible.</p><p>The family was unable to keep up the usual standards.  The children were shabby, and decided evidences of malnutrition were noticed.  The mother had been in poor health <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110180">180</controlpgno><printpgno>129</printpgno></pageinfo>since the birth of the last baby and the undue strain to which she was subject almost completely broke her down.  She was facing another operation which was urgent, and she was admitted to a free bed in a hospital.  Following her discharge, she was sent free to a convalescent home for six weeks.  The older children lived at home and assisted in the household work.  The younger ones were divided between the two homes of the grandparents.  Tonsil operations were arranged for three of the younger children who were underweight.  Defective teeth were taken care of by the city clinics.</p><p>During this period the constitutional nervousness in the mother was very much aggravated by the strain of the long time of unemployment and dependency.</p><p>Mr. Estrada showed a definite sense of responsibility and made a serious effort to remedy the situation by taking any kind of work.  He did, however, develop a bitter attitude toward life, feeling that a man willing to work should be able to have it.  He resented charity, going to the length of refusing to eat food that came from sources outside the family connection.  However, he faced the situation with courage, resigned himself to accepting help from his relatives and was not ungrateful for assistance given by other agencies to his wife and children.  The wife&apos;s usually sympathetic attitude gave way at times under the long strain, and in spite of strong affection between husband and wife, disagreements were more frequent than formerly.  During this period the eldest girl had an added share of home responsibility, but this, on the whole, seemed to bring out the best in the child&apos;s nature.  The children were always respectful to their parents&mdash;perhaps somewhat in fear of them, for the father and mother were unusually strict and demanding at this time.</p><p>The home atmosphere was somewhat depressed, but a very definite effort was made to keep things as cheerful as possible.  If  there was increased lack of harmony between the parents, the failures in co&ouml;peration were unintentional and due almost entirely to the situation.  While the unemployment <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110181">181</controlpgno><printpgno>130</printpgno></pageinfo>has not necessarily limited the family&apos;s opportunities for the future it has been a very definite temporary set-back.  The bitterness engendered by the experience, especially in the father, will probably be a lasting impression.  A definitely anti-social attitude is evident in one of the little boys.  This is possibly an echo of the father&apos;s repeated statement that the country should provide work for the man who is willing to work and does not want charity.  It is hard to say what attitude may develop in later life in this child&apos;s adjustment to society.  It is possible that if he lacks his father&apos;s moral stamina, adversity, at any time in his life, may lead to a social problem.</p></div><div><head>CASE 47<hsep>Southwark Neighborhood House<lb>SHANTI<hsep>Philadelphia, Pa.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Rus.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 48; W. 42)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">23 (twins), 19, 14, 11, 8 (blind)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Stevedore<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>The Shanti family is of Russian birth.  Michael and Stacia Shanti came to this country about twenty-four years ago.  There are six children:  twin sons, Joseph and Jerry, 23; Marie, 19; Philip, 14; William, 11, and the youngest, Josephine, blind since birth, 8.</p><p>The family has lived in the same house for twenty years, and has been known to the settlement for the same period.  Michael Shanti had very little eduction,&mdash;probably the equivalent of our third grade.  When he came here, he learned to speak some English and found employment as a stevedore and earned a fair living.  During the war, he earned as much as $150 a week.  The family at its best had good standards.  The children were going to school and were well clothed and fed.  A good deal of money was spent on the blind girl in the hope of restoring her sight, but with no success.  Luxuries were abundant in the home and great stress <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110182">182</controlpgno><printpgno>131</printpgno></pageinfo>was laid on education.  During their prosperity every effort was made to give them all possible educational advantages.  The twin brothers were inclined toward mechanics and Marie had begun to take a business course at high school.  It was a happy and united family until unemployment came.</p><p>With the signing of the Armistice, the wages of stevedore were cut.  Michael had saved quite a large sum of money and, for two years, while work was regular, he worked at stevedoring at the lower rate of wages.  This lasted while supplies were being rushed to war-stricken Europe.  Then gradually work slackened as exports and imports declined.  He tried to find other work, but after months of unsteady work and unsuccessful search for a different job, he decided to hold on to his unsteady stevedore employment.  Some new factors now had to be reckoned with.  A great many other unemployed flocked to stevedore work.  This, together with favoritism on the part of bosses, cut his period of work to one day a week.  His daughter, Marie, had to give up her business course and she found employment in a box factory at $12 a week,&mdash;a little more than her father was earning.</p><p>There were many expenses in addition to those for food, clothing, etc.  Payments to the building and loan association for the mortgage on the home had to be made.  Insurance and union dues were heavy.  Soon their savings fund was exhausted and some of the insurance on the children and mother lapsed.  The piano and some furniture were lost because of failure to pay installments.</p><p>The family would not accept help from the settlement or church.  Instead, the daughter found work and boarders were taken in.  As soon as this latter step was taken, the twin boys left the home, and have not been heard from since.</p><p>Overwork and nervousness wrecked the health of the mother, and a tumor developed in her breast.  The blind girl suffered from undernourishment, so that neighbors often had to feed her.  Illness due to lack of proper clothing and general unsanitary conditions affected the health of the two <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110183">183</controlpgno><printpgno>132</printpgno></pageinfo>younger boys, Finally, the situation became so bad that the Board of Health had to be called in to get their place cleaned up.</p><p>At the beginning of the unemployment period, Michael&apos;s attitude was that of a stoic, but later on, fear and worry drove him to search frantically for work.  He would  not consider outside help.  One day when things looked very black and life in the family was becoming unbearable, Michael brought home quite a sum of money.  He had met some seamen who smuggled drugs.  He was persuaded to dispose of them, and being inexperienced, was trapped, arrested and sentenced to ten years of hard labor at the Federal prison in Atlanta.</p></div><div><head>CASE 48<hsep>Robert Gould Shaw House<lb>HYDE<hsep>Boston, Mass.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Negro) (M. 38, W. 32)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">10, 9, 7, 4</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Waiter, then Worker at Odd Jobs</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression, race prejudice</hi></hi></p><p>The Hydes, a Negro family, moved from an Italian district in Everett, Massachusetts, to a more convenient location in Roxbury, four years ago, in order to reduce carfare.  Mr. Hyde, a very steady person, worked in a Boston hotel as waiter.</p><p>Mrs. Hyde immediately joined the Kindergarten Mothers&rsquo; Club and was an active worker.  The children&mdash;Helen, 10; Edward, 9; and Herman, 7&mdash;were sent to the settlement to classes, Lawrence, 4, attended the kindergarten.</p><p>Mrs. Hyde is a neat, attractive woman, a good housekeeper and evidently a splendid mother.  They moved to a cozy little five-room apartment, paying $35 per month.  Their home was attractively furnished at little cost, and the children were kept clean and healthy.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110184">184</controlpgno><printpgno>133</printpgno></pageinfo><p>Mr. Hyde lost his job after a year in Roxbury because the hotel closed.  He had been a steady worker and after losing his job, he diligently worked at odd jobs to keep the family going.  He shovelled snow during the few snow storms last winter.  One week he made $25 down on a wharf shovelling coal on a steamer; at other times, only $3 or $4 at odd jobs.</p><p>This situation, growing graver, from the standpoint of unemployment, necessitated Mrs. Hyde&apos;s leaving home to find work.  She finally became the breadwinner, doing day&apos;s work.</p><p>When unemployment first struck the Hyde family they had saved a little, and tried to hold on to it.  Mr. Hyde could scarcely find a day&apos;s work, being constantly refused even rough labor work because of his color.  This necessitated using all of their savings, and also forced them to borrow on their insurance to pay back rent.  Then they had to move into crowded quarters at less rent.  Even then they were unable to make ends meet; so they were finally referred to the Family Welfare, which tided them over many precarious places during the winter.</p><p>The first indication of the ill effects of overcrowding and unemployment was evidenced by the uncontrollable temper of Lawrence in kindergarten.  We recommended the Habit Clinic and Mrs. Hyde was very co&ouml;perative.  The report came that Lawrence&apos;s ill-temper was a result of the constant friction at home.  The Hydes were having trouble and we did not know it.  She was too proud, disappointed and worried to open her heart.  We found that Mr. Hyde was a changed man.  He was drinking and abusive, and also indifferent, having been turned down so often.  Mrs. Hyde seemed willing to do her part, but stated that the first trouble in all her married life started after Mr. Hyde failed continually to find work.  The children were in one room, underfed, with Helen doing most of the cooking.  Malnutrition cards were sent home for Edward and Herman.  The Family Welfare sent in milk to help build up the family.  Mrs. Hyde, tired <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110185">185</controlpgno><printpgno>134</printpgno></pageinfo>and worried, and at the breaking point, tried to use all of her influence to make Mr. Hyde see things as she did.  He listened to no reason, refused to look for work and absolutely depended on her for his upkeep.</p><p>She is now disappointed in her husband and feels that he has lost all of his self-respect.  He is indifferent to the children, to her and to their welfare.  They cling to her and are afraid of their father.</p></div><div><head>CASE 49<hsep>Chicago Commons<lb>RZEPINSKI<hsep>Chicago, Ill.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Polish</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 40)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  5,&mdash;<hi rend="italics">oldest is 14</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Semi-Skilled Factory Worker<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>Mr. Rzepinski came to the United States in 1911 at the age of 22.  His parents owned a small farm near Pilsna, Poland.  Here he had lived and worked with his parents until he decided to try his fortunes in America.  As a boy, he had attended school in Pilsna.  He reads and writes Polish fairly well.  He is a man possessed of an intense love for everything Polish and he is very proud of his native country.  He came directly to Chicago and gravitated to that part of the city where he found countrymen of his own class and from his own province in Poland.  Among his countrymen in this city he is respected as a man of good principles who takes pride in his home and family and feels a keen responsibility in providing a good home as well as giving his children the best educational advantage he can afford.  In 1923, he decided to declare his intention to become an American citizen and was awarded his citizenship in 1925.</p><p>Capable, industrious, Mr. Rzepinski had no difficulty in securing work when he first came to this city.  He was employed for several years as a semi-skilled worker in a small manufacturing establishment which ceased operation <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110186">186</controlpgno><printpgno>135</printpgno></pageinfo>early in the fall of 1925.  His work-record was favorable he was well liked generally, according to his neighbors, both by his employers and by his fellow-workmen.</p><p>In 1913, he married a young woman from his home in Poland who had migrated to this country in that year.  They have always lived in the somewhat better houses in the neighborhood.  The home is clean and wholesome.  The five children are clean and well-cared for.  There is an attitude of friendliness and kindliness on the part of the different members of the family towards each other.  The children are up to their grade in school,&mdash;a source of great pride to the father.</p><p>In the fall of 1925 after the establishment for which Mr. Rzepinaki had worked for several years had closed down, he tried faithfully to find other work and did succeed in getting work at part-time jobs which brought him much less pay.  The unemployment situation in the city reached its peak for that year late in November and early December, and it soon became increasingly difficult to find even part-time work so that he could earn enough to meet current expenses.  His wife&apos;s approaching confinement was also a source of great worry to him.  He had to draw heavily upon their savings to pay necessary bills.  In addition, being out of a job for so long a time and not being able to find work was an entirely new experience to them.  His wife refused to believe that he was making an honest effort to find work.  There was a great deal of friction and he tried to stay away from the house as much as possible during the day , for it seemed to irritate his wife and to make matters much worse for him, if he stayed at home idle.  He became quite discouraged and, for a few weeks, drank quite heavily.  However, with the help of friends and the pressure of circumstances at home, he came to his senses and again tried to adjust himself to the new situation of being jobless and unable to find work.</p><p>Upon the advice of friends, he used most of his savings to buy a small truck in the hope of making a living with it. <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110187">187</controlpgno><printpgno>136</printpgno></pageinfo>This proved a poor investment.  He was not a good manager, he did not know how to get business.  After a few months he was obliged to dispose of the truck at considerable loss because they needed the money for living expenses.</p><p>During the years 1926 and 1927, he was able to get only part-time jobs, or jobs that paid him less than he had been accustomed to get.  They could not keep up their former standard of living.  Besides, sickness stalked at their door.  The children were ill during the winter months.  Mrs. Rzepinski was in the county hospital for almost a month.  She was greatly worried over their financial situation.  With his best efforts, Mr. Rzepinski was unable to make enough money to meet expenses.  They were in arrears with the rent, which they could not pay and provide food for themselves and the children.  Although they suffered considerably, they did not ask for charity and even though they had been referred to the county for help, Mr. Rzepinski&apos;s pride would not permit him to accept it.</p><p>In February, 1928, they were evicted for non-payment of rent.  This experience was so humiliating to them that Mrs. Rzepinski determined to go to work.  She found night work in an office building where she does such work as scrubbing and cleaning, and earns $14 a week.  Her husband has worked fairly steadily but for much less pay than formerly, sometimes earning as little as $16 a week when work is slack.  The children thus far have not been neglected.  Mr. Rzepinski stays with them at night while Mrs. Rzepinski works, and she is with them during the day while her husband is out at work.  By working together in this way, they have been able to pay off some of their old bills as well as meet current obligations.  This has been a great tax on Mrs. Rzepinski&apos;s strength.  Their oldest child, a girl, is now 14, and will complete the eighth grade in June.  It is their ambition to send her to high school.</p><p>Temperamentally, Mr. Rzepinski is not a man who can readily adjust himself to new kinds of work.  His attitude towards a social order which compels a man, strong and <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110188">188</controlpgno><printpgno>137</printpgno></pageinfo>well and eager to work, to live in idleness, as rebellious.  Their family life, which for a time was seriously threatened because of his drinking, has been preserved in spite of their difficulties and their family relationship more closely cemented.  Mrs Rzepinski is an unusual woman and it is largely to her credit that they are bridging over these difficult times without impairing their family relationships and disrupting their home.</p></div><div><head>CASE 50<hsep>Workman Place House<lb>JONIS<hsep>Philadelphia, Pa.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Polish</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 40; W.3)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">19, 13, 15, 14, 13, 11, 4, 4 mos.</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Longshoreman<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression, seasonal slackness</hi></hi></p><p>In September when I stopped in to see the Jonis family, four rooms of the house were clean and neat, and Mrs. Jonis was sweeping the fifth.  She smilingly let me in, stopping her morning work long enough to show me the dress she was finishing before the arrival of the new baby.</p><p>Her husband was there and he greeted me politely and we talked of the working conditions among the longshoremen.  Mrs. Jonis said, &ldquo;When my husband gets the work he was promised, next week, I will buy the boys shoes.  They wear them out so fast; and we do need curtains for this room.  I have never had any for it.&rdquo;</p><p>Six months later, when work had been very scarce and illness had complicated matters, I was visiting Mrs. Jonis.  She opened the door with an effort because of the piles of magazines on the floor, left by the children in play.  The three chairs in the room were cluttered with clothes.  The whole house presented a dreary look, full of dust and dirt.  It was also cold because Mrs. Jonis could not afford to buy coal and there was only a little wood.  Two children were in bed with sore throats, and the baby was ill.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110189">189</controlpgno><printpgno>138</printpgno></pageinfo><p>Mrs. Jonis said, &ldquo;I have not been well since the baby came.  I have worried so much now that my husband has no work.  I don&apos;t seem to care if the children get to school or the house is cleaned.</p><p>&ldquo;The baby is sick all the time from her sore eyes&mdash;and I can&apos;t afford to pay out carfare to take her to the hospital for treatments three times a week.  I am thankful that at least Sophic is able to work.&rdquo;</p><p>Mr. Jonis has worked as a longshoreman since he came to this country twenty-four years ago and earned about $30 to $40 weekly.  Alex, the second boy, lost his job with a contractor because of the latter&apos;s death this winter.  The business depression this year has made work scarce.  If there was any work to be had the boss (union) of the longshoremen gave it to the union men who would pay him part of their week&apos;s earnings.  His &ldquo;rake-off&rdquo; for obtaining a man a week&apos;s work usually amounted to over $10.</p><p>Mr. Jonis had been out of work for nearly three months.  Then he was injured on a boat and was out of work two months because of his injury.  Until the father was injured and Alex was out of work, things went along quite satisfactorily.  But at the arrival of the new baby the money which the mother had so carefully saved each week in the bank was withdrawn.  Mr. Jonis told me he owed three months&rsquo; union dues and they had to be paid even if he was not working.</p><p>Mrs. Jonis had been paying five cents a week insurance on each of the older children and this lapsed but was later paid by a sister of Mrs. Jonis.</p><p>During January the settlement several times took soup and other food and articles of clothing for Sophie.  The children going to school have had very severe sore throats and colds.  In looking for the cause it was found that they did not have heavy underwear, that their clothes were thin&mdash;coats passed on to them from the older children, thin shoes and worn out rubbers.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110190">190</controlpgno><printpgno>139</printpgno></pageinfo><p>Clara (4) was taken to the Dental Clinic and she was found to be much undernourished and also had very bad teeth and tonsils.  Mrs. Jonis could not afford more milk.  The dairy considerately carried their bill for a long time but finally had to drop them.  After the baby&apos;s birth the mother had been advised to eat plenty of green vegetables, in fact everything which would build up her failing strength.  She was also advised to buy surgical stockings which she could not do.</p><p>Mr. Jonis is a quiet man, who does not drink, but he lacks the aggressiveness of the mother.  He is discouraged at not obtaining regular work.  When home, Mr. Jonis does more than his share of work in cleaning the house and helping with the meals.</p><p>The mother is really the &ldquo;mainstay&rdquo; of the family, encouraging the older children and keeping the younger ones in check.  She has been ill since the baby arrived and is getting impatient and cross, fretting at the older boys and at her husband.</p><p>The bad influence of the street with boys of seventeen and eighteen, stealing and gambling, has finally been the cause of Edward&apos;s (15) being detained for robbery at the House of Detention.  He had left school and his mother urged him to get work.  Not being able to find any, he took to running about the streets with the gang&mdash;commonly known as &ldquo;The Forty Thieves.&rdquo;  It is unlikely that he would ever have joined this gang had he found a good steady place to work, for the family influence has been very good.</p><p>In explanation of her impatience with her children and husband since he has been laid off, Mrs. Jonis says:  &ldquo;I am so sick and tired of staying in this house, day after day.  Before December, John and I left and children at home and went to a movie nearly every Saturday night.  I looked forward to being away from the house and children one night, but now it&apos;s all I can do to escape a few cents together for the children to get to the settlement clubs.  They did enjoy <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110191">191</controlpgno><printpgno>140</printpgno></pageinfo>the movies at our church [Catholic] on Saturdays, but that costs five cents apiece and I can&apos;t give it to them now.&rdquo;</p><p>As I left Mrs. Jonis the other day, she said, &ldquo;I wonder what will happen to us next?&rdquo;</p></div><div><head>CASE 51<hsep>Family Welfare Society<lb>BLANTON<hsep>Savannah, Ga.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 55; W. 28)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">14 mos.</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Statistician<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression and old age</hi></hi></p><p>Mr. and Mrs. Blanton have one daughter, Margaret, aged 14 months.</p><p>Mr. Blanton, the breadwinner, when last employed was getting up statistics for the president of his company, and was closely associated with the bookkeeping department.  His wages were $25 per week.  He had earned as high as $5,000 a year.  His training and education consisted of the equivalent of a common school education and 30 years&rsquo; training in different business offices as accountant and credit manager.  His parents were well educated and he himself uses beautiful English.  Mrs. Blanton is a college graduate.</p><p>Their standard of living before unemployment was that of people of considerable refinement living on an average annual salary of from $3,000 to $5,000.</p><p>Mr. Blanton attributes his unemployment to the general business depression.  He thinks, however, that his age militates against him, even though he is accurate, neat and conscientious in his work.  He says since many employment and office managers are young men, they would regard fifty-five as <hi rend="italics">old.</hi>  He admits that a young man has more energy, strength, and ambition, and yet, oftentimes, a man of his age is more valuable in an office, he thinks.</p><p>Mr. Blanton has been out of work six months.  During this time he has had an odd job now and then.  These jobs <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110192">192</controlpgno><printpgno>141</printpgno></pageinfo>might be classed as substitute work of a less skilled kind.  Some weeks he has made from $15 to $20, and other weeks, nothing.</p><p>His health failed while doing office work, but he has now regained it so that ill-health could not be considered the cause of his continued unemployment.</p><p>The effect of the unemployment upon the family&apos;s financial arrangements has been, according to Mr. Blanton, &ldquo;disastrous.&rdquo;  They used up whatever savings they had, which were extremely small, and ran into debt.  Some furniture was lost which was being paid for on the instalment plan, as the dealer refused to allow them to take it along when they moved to Savannah.  It has been necessary for them to move into poorer quarters, so that recently they have been living in basements.</p><p>They have received relief from the church and the Family Welfare Society, besides so-called &ldquo;loans&rdquo; from certain individuals.</p><p>They have been unable to keep up their usual standards.  The diet, clothing, home furnishings and character of living quarters have been affected.  As to the effect upon the health of the family, Mr. Blanton imagines it has affected his wife&apos;s health, making her extremely nervous.  He says there has been no undernourishment but the baby is underweight.  Mrs. Blanton needs some dental work done which they cannot afford.  They are unable to care adequately for temporary or chronic illnesses.  During her approaching confinement, Mrs. Blanton is to be cared for out of a fund provided by an individual interested in the family.</p><p>Mr. Blanton has been courageous and has used considerable initiative in seeking jobs and is most unwilling to ask and receive help.  He says he is keeping books on the &ldquo;loans&rdquo; made him by the Welfare Society and others, and expects to repay them later.  He admits, however, that he is losing his self-respect and thinks we will lose his mind unless he can find work.</p><p>At times his wife displays the utmost fortitude and at <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110193">193</controlpgno><printpgno>142</printpgno></pageinfo>other times she becomes panic-stricken.  She has been very loyal to her husband through it all.  There is complete harmony between them, although the husband says he has probably done his wife an injustice in asking her to share the discomforts of his home.  He does not wish his relatives, from whom he became estranged through his marriage with a Protestant (they being Catholics), to know of his predicament.  His wife, likewise, is unwilling for her relatives to know of her misfortunes.</p><p>Mr. Blanton thinks his unemployment has probably affected his moral standards.  He said he had asked himself the question, &ldquo;Were I to find a pocketbook in the street, would I return it to the owner?&rdquo;  and was obliged to admit that he would be tempted to keep it.</p><p>The sole relaxation of the parents during their period of economic distress has been the public library.  They have high hopes of giving their 14-months-old baby a good education.  If this ambition is realized, it will doubtless have to come through the efforts of the mother, when she becomes able to work again.  There seems slender hope that the father will be able to take care of his family at least during this time of business depression, but, possibly as intimated above, Mrs. Blanton may be able to support the family through teaching, office work, or otherwise, if she can retain her reason and not commit suicide, as she threatens.  She is a woman of great charm and intelligence, but decidedly erratic.</p></div><div><head>CASE 52<hsep>Welcome Hall<lb>ALI<hsep>Buffalo, N. Y.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Syrian</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 30, W. 20)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">4, 2, 1</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Painter<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">seasonal slackness</hi></hi></p><p>Lamie Ali found it hard to keep back the tears as she tried to explain the occasion of her visit to the settlement <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110194">194</controlpgno><printpgno>143</printpgno></pageinfo>that morning.  We hadn&apos;t seen much of her since her marriage, though she still lived in the neighborhood.  &ldquo;I&apos;m so ashamed,&rdquo; she finally controlled her voice enough to say, &ldquo;so ashamed to have to ask for help.&rdquo;  It was the same old story of unemployment&mdash;a young, strong, willing fellow of 30, a painter by trade, earning a good wage for part of the year and then idle for months at a time.</p><p>Lamie&apos;s people came from Syria before she was born.  She herself was born here.  Her husband is Syrian born.  It is fifteen years since he left the Lebanon hills and five years since he married Lamie&mdash;just a school girl of 15.  Now there are three small children, 4, 2, and 1, so that each year the problem of making ends meet becomes increasingly difficult; and this winter it was impossible to find any kind of substitute employment while waiting for regular work to pick up with the beginning of warm weather.</p><p>With a monthly rent of $25 to meet and a winter gas rate of $12 per month, besides the electric light bill, an overdue bill of $85 for furniture bought on monthly payments and the children needing clothes and all of them needing food, there seemed no way out, without some outside assistance.  Once before we had been able to help a little in the case of the oldest child, who is suffering from a misplaced hip; we placed her for a time on one of our endowed hospital beds for treatment.  But the child is too young and too run down in health at present for the doctors to be willing to risk an operation.  She needs plenty of nourishing food, especially milk.</p><p>Lamie&apos;s husband served in the World War; so the family was referred to the Veterans&rsquo; Relief Bureau for help.  The Bureau is paying them $7 a week while the husband is out of work, a sum not adequate for their food cost, and we were unable to get the Bureau to pay the rent, so we referred the family to the city for that.  It has meant much travelling back and forth between this and that agency, all of which is very humiliating to these young people, who are entirely <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110195">195</controlpgno><printpgno>144</printpgno></pageinfo>self-respecting, asking only for a chance to make a living for themselves and their family.</p></div><div><head>CASE 53<hsep>Family Service Society<lb>BENTLEY<hsep>New Orleans, La.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. Jewish, 55; W. Prot., 50)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">21, 10</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chemist and Pharmacist<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">merging of stores, depression, advancing age</hi></hi></p><p>Mr. Bentley is a graduate chemist and pharmacist.  He has worked as a druggist and chemist all of his life but has never worked with any firm longer than five years.  Many of the drug stores for which he worked sold out and for that reason he had to change jobs.  His last steady employment was with a wholesale chemical company where he worked for two years.  A year ago he was laid off because of slack work due to the general business depression.  Although he has excellent references, he has been unable to secure any work except relief work in drug stores, for which he usually earns $5 or $6 a day.  Formerly he earned between $175 and $225 a month.</p><p>Lillie Mae, the adopted daughter, lived in the home until several months ago.  She earned $125 as a stenographer and paid room and board.  The family no longer receives money from her.</p><p>The Bentleys formerly had a comfortable home and owned their own furniture.  However, when the father became unemployed it was necessary to sell the furniture and move into a cheaper house.  They then rented a furnished house for $45.  They had been able to save a small amount during Mr. Bentley&apos;s period of steady employment, but this money gradually diminished and friends had to assist them.  The family was never extravagant but liked to have a comfortable <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110196">196</controlpgno><printpgno>145</printpgno></pageinfo>home in a good neighborhood.  Other than for necessities, the only money that was spent was for occasional recreation.  They were always able to give their two children anything they wanted and even now, rather than cause Helen to do without some little thing for which she might ask, her father walks great distances to save carfare.  Although the family actually cannot afford a telephone, they insist upon keeping it because in this way Mr. Bentley gets his &ldquo;relief&rdquo; calls, so friends have been paying for the phone.  With the help of others, the family has been able to keep up its former standards in appearance.  Mr. Bentley says that he has not bought any clothing for a long time.  At times, he feels that his somewhat shabby appearance prevents him from getting work.  Friends have given shoes and old clothes to Mrs. Bentley, which have helped greatly.  The old clothes are made over for her and her daughter.  She says she has never had to do this before but now &ldquo;she must forget her pride&rdquo; in order to manage.</p><p>Mr. Bentley has applied at many chemical and pharmacal companies for work but each time was led to believe that he was too old, or that there were no vacancies.  Outside of the occasional relief work, he has had steady employment for only five or six weeks during the past year.</p><p>When the family had to give up their home and move into cheaper quarters, they immediately paid two months&rsquo; rent in advance, hoping that by the end of that time Mr. Bentley would find work and in the meantime they would be accure in their home.  Soon Mr. Bentley had to borrow money from friends.  Both he and his wife belonged to the Druids.  This gives some assistance to its members in time of need.</p><p>Three months after the family first moved they were one month behind in rent and had to move again.  The money again came from friends.  Mrs. Bentley at this period wanted to secure work, but her doctor advised against it.</p><p>The family has not been able to keep up its usual standards <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110197">197</controlpgno><printpgno>146</printpgno></pageinfo>as far as diet and clothing are concerned.  Although they are getting sufficient food, the quality has been reduced.</p><p>The character of their living quarters is still fairly high, although the family feels that it is inferior to their previous standard.</p><p>Neither Mr. Bentley nor his wife is in good health, but their ill-health is not due primarily to unemployment.  The doctor says that Mr. Bentley is able to work but that his wife is not.</p><p>Mr. Bentley worries greatly about their situation but is in all probability beginning to feel somewhat relieved by the willingness of friends and others to see him through his difficulty.  He does not accept any relief when he does not need it.  He is willing to do any kind of work and thinks that if he cannot find anything in the chemical line he would like to do clerical work.  Mr. Bentley condemns the management of the druggists in general and insists that his age is preventing him from securing work.  Mrs. Bentley dislikes to accept charity but does not refuse anything anyone wants to give them.  Her husband is gradually growing more bitter and discouraged toward the employment situation, but he does not take it personally.  He feels that the whole country is in a &ldquo;horrible&rdquo; state which will eventually terminate in a revolution.  Mrs. Bentley, although discouraged, is not affected by the situation as is her husband.  She feels that somehow or other she will manage.  Often Mrs. Bentley cries and is despondent.  There seems to be no disharmony within the home, but the atmosphere is oppressive.</p><p>The effect on Mr. Bentley is greater than on other members of the family.  The only recreation they have is given them by their friends.  Helen has not been deprived of much.  The family is worrying about the present rather than the future.  It is not thought that the home has lost its security for Helen because Mrs. Bentley by her attitude has so far managed to overcome the difficulties.</p></div><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110198">198</controlpgno><printpgno>147</printpgno></pageinfo><div><head>CASE 54<hsep>St. Martha&apos;s House<lb>ZEPONE<hsep>Philadelphia, Pa.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Ital.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 50, W. 40)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">22, 20, 15, 13, 11, 10, 6, 4</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Laborer in Hat Factory; Then with<lb>Contracting Concern<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>The Zepones have eight children: John, 22; Joseph, 20; Augustine, 15; George, 13; Paul, 11; Rose, 10; Mary, 6, and Florence, 4.  Mr. Zepone came to America from Sicily when he was 21 years of age.  He went to work in a hat factory as a laborer, and stayed in the same place for twenty-three years.  He then went to work for a contracting concern, earning a $25 a week, and had been there for five years when first known to St. Martha&apos;s House, Mrs. Zepone (now 40) came to America when 11 years old and worked in a cigar factory until the time of her marriage in 1906.  As Mr. Zepone has had steady work, they have been comparatively comfortable until the past year.  In the spring of 1928, Joseph finished as an apprentice and was getting some electrical jobs; John was working in a cigar factory at $15 a week, and Augustine was working on an ice-wagon after school hours and making $3 a week.  The entire atmosphere was that of a harmonious household.</p><p>The general business depression has been the cause of Mr. Zepone&apos;s unemployment.  Since fall, work has been so dull that he only worked two or three days a week until the last of February, when he was laid off altogether, and has been able to get no other work since.  Joseph&apos;s jobs have been fewer and fewer until there has been practically none since Christmas, but he hopes for more in the spring when more housewiring is usually done.  In February, John was offered and accepted more pay in another cigar factory, believing it his duty to add as much as possible to the depleted budget, but two weeks later was laid off and has had no work <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110199">199</controlpgno><printpgno>148</printpgno></pageinfo>since.  And Mrs. Zepone says,  &ldquo;Even Gussie has been laid off the ice-wagon.&rdquo;</p><p>Seven years ago, Mr. Zepone bought their house for $1,600, paying $350 cash and mortgaging the rest.  This he has paying at the rate of $17 a month. In two years more it was to have been cleared, but the unemployment this winter has made it impossible to continue the payments.</p><p>With their small amount of savings and the scant wages coming in during the winter they managed to get food, but for weeks there have been no wages at all.  The savings are gone, and they have been allowed the limit of credit at the grocery store.  They have had no financial aid, but the settlement has given them clothing for the children.</p><p>Not having enough coal, the children have had colds all winter.  They all look miserably undernourished but have had not serious illness.  The younger have had to stay home from school because they have not had clothes to wear.  The settlement has given them medicine for colds, and has attended to their dental work.</p><p>Mr. Zepone&apos;s attitude toward their predicament is more or less optimistic.  When asked if conditions are better, he invariably answers, &ldquo;Not yet, soon maybe.&rdquo;  He has made every effort to get work, leaving the house early every morning to find a job.  He looks tired and says that walking the streets all day in fruitless effort is wearing.  The two working boys are restless and not as hopeful as their father, particularly the electrician, who had counted upon going ahead in his trade.  They, too, have not ceased in their efforts to find work.</p><p>Mrs. Zepone has tried to keep up the spirits of the family and only and its to the settlement workers how discouraged she gets at times.</p><p>The children are ashamed of their shabby appearance and do not want to go to where they will be seen.  One day when the kindergartner made a visit to see why her pupil had been absent she found the child had no shoes.  The child was at <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110200">200</controlpgno><printpgno>149</printpgno></pageinfo>that moment hiding, ashamed to have her teacher see her without shoes.</p><p>The oldest son had hoped to study to be an electrician so that he and his brother might go in business together.  This winter has discouraged him, since his brother has not been able to get work.  At present, he cannot afford to give up looking for work to study in day school, and is not strong enough, from lack of proper food, to go to night school to learn the trade.</p><p>Rose, the oldest daughter, is a bright child and has always done well in school.  If allowed to continue her schooling, she could undoubtedly make something of herself, and be able to add materially to the family budget.</p><p>Unless conditions are bettered before the family standards are further lowered there can be little chance for a comfortable old age for the parents.</p></div><div><head>CASE 55<hsep>Change Valley Settlement<lb>CIRELLI<hsep>Orange, New Jersey</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Itai.,</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 36; W. 35)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">16, 14, 13</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Laborer<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>The Cirellis who are a high-grade, thirfty Italian family, are buying their house through a building and loan association.  Their children are well-trained and in good health.</p><p>Until the time of Mr. Cirelli&apos;s illness, ten years ago, he was the only breadwinner&mdash;earning $25 a week as a factory laborer.  He was considered a good steady worker.  At that time it was necessary for Mrs. Cirelli to go out as a day worker ($4) and with the assistance of the family organization, she was able to keep up the home.  Since then, Mr. Cirelli has worked steadily until his recent period of unemployment which began in July, 1928, when the factory closed down because of the depression.  From that time until March, 1929, he obtained only odd day&apos;s work (announcing to about <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110201">201</controlpgno><printpgno>150</printpgno></pageinfo>two weeks during the entire period).  He now has a temporary job as a gardener ($25 a week), which may last about four months.</p><p>In the meantime it was necessary for Mrs. Cirelli to do day&apos;s work&mdash;even though she is physically unable to work more than three days a week.  She is under medical care through the clinic.  The two boys also had to get work after school hours.  The 16-year-old boy, who was employed as a helper in a hardware store ($6 a week), lost his job because of the poor business conditions.  Since then (December, 1928) he has difficulty securing other work.  The other son helps in a printing shop after school and gets $6 a week.</p><p>The family had to apply to the B. A. C. for financial assistance, and received a weekly cash allowance, besides half payment for the building and loan each month.  The income from one rented floor of the house supplied the other half.  The family had no savings, and did not incur any debts except a $100 note taken out in settling the mortgage on the house.</p><p>With the physical and financial support received from the B. A. C. the Cirellis were able to keep up their standards fairly well.</p><p>Mr. Cirelli has earnestly tried to secure work.  He was terribly worried and unhappy about receiving assistance.  He has been courageous, and helped in the home with the children when it was necessary for Mrs. Cirelli to work.  Applying for help to the B. A. C. was hard for him, but he felt he should do this rather than have his family suffer.</p><p>The wife and children did all they could in assuming their share of the responsibility in trying to meet the situation.  It seems that the parents have suffered most through their worry and humiliation about receiving outside assistance.  They were frequently discouraged but were confident that they could carry on, if only Mr. Cirelli could obtain steady employment.  The children, it seems, have developed <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110202">202</controlpgno><printpgno>151</printpgno></pageinfo>a stronger sense of responsibility.  So far, they have not had to give up school.</p><p>The Cirellis consider this unemployment episode only a temporary condition and are confident that the future has brighter prospects for them.</p></div><div><head>CASE 56<hsep>Baden Street Settlement<lb>HOGAN<hsep>Rochester, New York</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Ger. descent)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">6 thn.</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Misc. Unskilled Jobs<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">seasonal slackness</hi></hi></p><p>The Hogans moved into the city four years ago from a small town near by, thinking that conditions surely would be better for them.  Mrs. Hogan was asked if she would say something about what the unemployment of her husband for the past few years had meant to her household.  &ldquo;I have often told my husband of late that we have tried every type of work during the past few years hoping to better our condition and that we should write a book now telling our experiences during this time.  Perhaps now this is my chance to see what kind of a novelist I might be!</p><p>&ldquo;Sometimes I almost forget what nationality we really are.  In one neighborhood we were Irish and in another English, but in reality we are German descent.  We had to take these names due to debts we could not meet.  I do not know anything about my parents or whether I have any sisters or brothers.  I have been told that my mother died when I was born and that my father gave me away.  The lady he gave me to kept me until I was three and then put me into an orphanage.  When I was fifteen and old enough to work for her she wanted to take me back into her home again.  This idea did not appeal to me, so I ran away from the orphanage and married a man fifteen years older than I.  This was a mistake from the very beginning.</p><p>&ldquo;When we were married Mr. Hogan had a good job. <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110203">203</controlpgno><printpgno>152</printpgno></pageinfo>He had a bakery of his own and made enough at this to keep us very comfortable for a while.  After we had been married about a year a chain store opened up next door to our shop and we were finally put out of business.  At this time our first child was born and all that we had went for doctor and hospital bills.  This was in September and we were cared for by a relief organization all winter.  He did not get any work until the following June when the parks opened.  He worked in a refreshment stand until fall, and then no work again when the parks closed for the winter.  The baby was almost a year old; so I decided to get a job.  I got a lady next door to take care of her and I worked as a dish-washer in a restaurant.  It had a cement floor which was cold and damp all the time.  My right arm began to pain me and swell, after I had been working there about four months.  I knew I had rheumatism but tried not to let the &lsquo;Boss&rsquo; know it.  He soon found out something was wrong because I could not work as fast as I once did and I lost my job.  In the meantime Mr. Hogan had gotten a job with the city shovelling snow, which lasted just a few months.  Our second daughter was born and I almost died because of my rheumatic condition.  Such circumstances as these came year after year and that is why we moved into the present neighborhood, hunting a cheaper place to live.  During the time that &lsquo;lapsed my husband had dozens of different kinds of jobs,&rsquo;most all of them seasonal.  We were not living all this time but just existing.  We received aid from every conceivable organization.  My oldest daughter was old enough to help me with the small ones, but we were so poor and had so little that I had a constant battle with myself to keep from losing my self-respect.</p><p>&ldquo;I wanted my husband to keep the children every day and I would go back to work again, but he always said, &lsquo;That&apos;s not a man&apos;s place.&rsquo;  He finally got a job in a neighborhood store which brought in a small income.  My second daughter was taken sick with chorea and we had to send her to the country for a year.  This was another disappointment. <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110204">204</controlpgno><printpgno>153</printpgno></pageinfo>It seems as though I should be used to disappointments by now,  but they hurt me just as much a they ever did.  When my daughter came back from the country I decided to go back to work again.  My baby was almost two years old; so I decided to put the children in the day nursery.  I found employment in a candy shop washing pans, and another job in the basement.  Where my husband worked they soon found out that he was a misfit and he lost his job.  He became so disheartened and felt that he was such a detriment to his family that he deserted and was gone about two months.  When he returned he brought three dogs for the children as a peace offering, I suppose.  I knew that we could not keep three dogs in a three-room flat and this caused a little trouble.  He sold the dogs for enough to buy winter shoes for all the children and I guess it wasn&apos;t so bad after all.</p><p>&ldquo;Mr. Hogan got a job as a hired man on a farm and was away from home most of the time.  He would send us a little money each week and with my income we managed very well without outside help.  I worked here until four months before my last child was born.  I fainted in the shop and they told me I could not work in that condition.  Since I was home again I took the children out of the day nursery.  My two oldest girls were such a comfort to me.  They did everything they could to help me,&mdash;all the housework and taking care of the children.  The man my husband was husband working for decided to sell the farm and move into the city.</p><p>Of course I knew what this meant, no job, winter here again and almost time for the baby to come.  I did not have any clothes for the new baby and my spirits seemed lower this time than ever before.  I went to the settlement and told one of the workers how we were situated and to please see that my children would get something for Christmas.  The doctor had told me that I would be in the hospital on Christmas day.  And the thoughts of my children not having anything was more than I could stand.  The children were taken back into the nursery during my confinement and they were given presents at the settlement Christmas tree.  I went to the <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110205">205</controlpgno><printpgno>154</printpgno></pageinfo>hospital feeling much better.  We have our sixth child now and my husband is still unemployed.  He gets up at six every morning and answers all the &lsquo;ads&rsquo; in the papers.  He had been promised a job in a new factory that is to be opened up this spring, but we have long since found out that we cannot thrive on promises.&rdquo;</p></div><div><head>CASE 57<hsep>North Bennett Street Industrial School<lb>DIPESA<hsep>Boston, Mass.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Ital.</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">5 ranging from 1 to 6 yrs.</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Stone and Concrete Worker in Building<lb>Trades<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">mechanization</hi></hi></p><p>The DiPesa family living in the West End section of Boston have been residents of the United States for fifteen years (since 1914).</p><p>DiPesa is a stone and concrete worker in the building construction trades.  He served six years&rsquo; apprenticeship at his trade in Italy and is considered a good workman.</p><p>Mrs. DiPesa takes in home tailoring, attaching buttons.</p><p>DiPesa had schooling in Italy equivalent to five grades here.  As a result of attending night school here for three years, he can read and write simple English and can also read construction plans well.  Mrs. DiPesa is illiterate.  Both parents, however, are anxious for the children to obtain an education.</p><p>The family lives in a tenement of five rooms consisting (in the sense of family usage) of kitchen and four bedrooms.  It is kept very clean, even to the extent of DiPesa&apos;s bringing home sand from the job with which to scrub the kitchen floor.</p><p>Since the installation of mechanical cement mixers and pavers DiPesa has been compelled to take the job of tender to the mixing machine.  He is now classified as a laborer with a resultant decrease in salary of approximately 40 per cent.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110206">206</controlpgno><printpgno>155</printpgno></pageinfo><p>The DiPesas had about $700 savings as a result of their united efforts over a period of fifteen years.  Unemployment throughout the past winter has wiped out most of this.  Mr. and Mrs. DiPesa have gone without needed winter clothing to provide it for their children.</p><p>No appeal has been made to agencies for assistance because of DiPesa&apos;s pride in his ability to take care of his family.</p><p>If economic relief in the form of work is not soon provided the usual standards of the family will be greatly lowered.  To date, the material welfare of the family has not been affected because of thrift and foresight when conditions were better.</p><p>Since the birth of her last child, the mother is no longer able to take in work from the clothing factory.</p><p>DiPesa is rapidly acquiring an embittered attitude.  He says, &ldquo;Country not one of golden opportunity&mdash;Mussolini rule, although dictatorial, better as it provides employment.&rdquo;  He has given up his ambition to become a citizen, and says that the &ldquo;best steady and lucrative occupation is that of bootlegger.&rdquo;</p><p>There is no present change in the attitude of the children, although they are keenly alive to a feeling of discontent that prevails within the home.</p></div><div><head>CASE 58<hsep>Neighborhood House<lb>KURFEE<hsep>Louisville, Ky.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 37, W. 36)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">16, 14, 13, 12, 10</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Steam-Fitter<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression, seasonal slackness</hi></hi></p><p>The family consists of Mr. and Mrs. Kurfee and their five children:  Tom, 16; Miriam, 14; Helen, 13; Hazel, 12, and Margaret, 10.</p><p>&ldquo;My father hasn&apos;t had any work for a long time.  He don&apos;t live with us any more,&rdquo; offered twelve-year-old Hazel <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110207">207</controlpgno><printpgno>156</printpgno></pageinfo>to the discussion of unemployment in the Girl&apos;s Club, of which she was a member.  &ldquo;Mama works and my brother, Tom, got a job a couple of weeks ago.  He&apos;s staying with Daddy, but he sends us some money to pay the rent.&rdquo;  In those few sentences, Hazel (who somehow stood out above the other girls of the club and gave one the impression that she had been acquainted at one time with the better things of life) summed up the tragedy which unemployment had been in her family.</p><p>The Kurfees&rsquo; struggle with unemployment began several years ago.  Mr. Kurfee, with little education and no particular training for his work, through a long apprenticeship at various jobs, has become a competent steam-fitter.  Finally he secured a job in the L. and N. Railroad Shops as steamfitter, receiving good pay.  He rented a little cottage near his parents, in the outskirts of the city.  The family lived comfortably,&mdash;the children growing up happily under the care of their mother and their grandparents, whose home they frequently visited during the day.</p><p>Then Mr. Kurfee was drawn into a quarrel with one of his fellow-workers and was promptly discharged.  He began walking the streets looking for some form of employment.  Discouraged at not being able to find employment in Louisville, he and his wife went to Cincinnati, where they had been told work was plentiful.  The children were left with their grandparents.  After several weeks, Mr. Kurfee secured temporary employment in a tire and garage company doing odd jobs and Mrs. Kurfee took a job in a laundry.  Having rented two furnished rooms, the Kurfees sent for their children.  After several months, Mr. Kurfee was laid off at the garage.  Not being able to find employment, after a long search, in desperation he undertook canvassing for a hosiery company, but orders were difficult to secure.</p><p>Mrs. Kurfee became pregnant and was forced to give up her laundry work.  Mr. Kurfee, in desperation, took the hosiery loaned him by the firm for samples and was imprisoned.  Neighbors reported the case to the Cincinnati <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110208">208</controlpgno><printpgno>157</printpgno></pageinfo>Family Service, and Mrs. Kurfee told her story to a worker, who got in touch with the senior Kurfees.  Through his mother&apos;s efforts, Mr. Kurfee was released and after a time secured a job in a construction company at 30 cents an hour.  A worker of the Family Service (which was keeping in touch with the case) learned that Mrs. Kurfee was in need of an immediate operation, and arrangements were made for her at the City Hospital.  The children were cared for by the Detention Home.  By this time, Mr. Kurfee was anxious to come back to the Louisville where he thought with a little help he could again secure employment with the L. and N. Shops.  Mrs. Kurfee, Senior, however, was not in a position to assume the upkeep of the family until it could again secure a footing in Louisville.  Mr. Kurfee, Senior, had been thrown out of employment through a union strike and had not worked for several months.  From time to time, Mrs. Kurfee, Senior, had been sending small sums of money to her son&apos;s family, but further help at this time was  impossible.</p><p>As the construction work he was doing in Cincinnati was discontinued, Mr. Kurfee communicated with his former employer at the L. and N. yards and was promised his old job back.  The Kurfee moved back to Louisville again near his parents&rsquo; home.</p><p>During all his trouble in supporting his family, Mr. Kurfee became discouraged and began to abuse his wife and children.  &ldquo;He had got to running around with bad company while he didn&apos;t have any work and at times it was hard to live with him,&rdquo; explained Mrs. Kurfee.  It is not surprising to find that the Kurfees separated a year after they returned to Louisville.  Mr. Kurfee lost his job at the L. and N. Shops when it was found he had become subject, at times, to epileptic fits.  When his wife and children left him, he turned to dissipating.  For the past year he has been able to find only temporary jobs that last only a few weeks.  &ldquo;He&apos;s a big strong man and a fine steam-fitter and if he could find some kind of steady job I think he&apos;d settle down.&rdquo;</p><p>The children have lost respect for their father, referring <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110209">209</controlpgno><printpgno>158</printpgno></pageinfo>to him frequently as &ldquo;the old man.&rdquo;  The youngest girl, left to herself to &ldquo;run the streets&rdquo; during the day while her mother works, is becoming a discipline problem for the mother, the settlement and the school.  The boy became such a problem to his mother and school before he secured employment a few weeks ago, so that the mother was forced to send him to his grandmother&apos;s where his father could look after him.</p><p>Mrs. Kurfee told the visitor, &ldquo;As things are now, it&apos;s best for me to go on working and living here with the children.  He [referring to her husband] is at his mother&apos;s now.&rdquo;  &ldquo;Here&rdquo; is one attic room on the third floor of an old &ldquo;rooming&rdquo; house in an undesirable section of the city.  Mrs. Kurfee&apos;s four girls keep the bare room and the two flights of stairs that lead to it beautifully clean&mdash;a direct contrast to the rest of the dirty rooms that one passes on either side of the stairways.  It is certainly not a desirable place to rear four girls between the ages of eight and fourteen.</p><p>&ldquo;They love to visit their grandmother,&rdquo; declared Mrs. Kurfee.  One does not wonder, for these precious visits are the only real bits of home life these girls know at the period in their lives when they need the influence of a home and mother most.</p><p>On the Saturday afternoon that the visitor talked with Mrs. Kurfee, she found her seated on the side of the bed with her head in her hands.  Though she had been home nearly a half hour she had not yet removed her coat or hat.  Work five days a week from seven in the morning until six in the evening and a half day on Saturday in a laundry working on a mangle is sapping all of Mrs. Kurfee&apos;s reserve energy.  This particular afternoon, she had been too tired to take off her wraps.  Several times while she talked to the visitor, she almost &ldquo;dozed.&rdquo;  The salary Mrs. Kurfee receives for her work, $10 per week with no pay for overtime work (but a &ldquo;dock&rdquo; of a half day&apos;s work for being a minute late), is proving insufficient for even the bare necessities of life.  Her son who is staying with his grandmother was sixteen <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110210">210</controlpgno><printpgno>159</printpgno></pageinfo>recently and has found employment at night in a box factory.  Part of his earnings he pays toward Mrs. Kurfee&apos;s rent.  &ldquo;My boy wanted to take up plumbing at the Trade School, but it&apos;s been up to him to get work.  Hazel is so bright at school that I wish she could go on after finishing the eighth grade.  Her teacher was here the other day explaining about the Student Loan Fund,&mdash;but I don&apos;t think she&apos;ll be able to go on,&mdash;not as things are now, and I can&apos;t see them getting any better until the girls get to work.</p><p>The girls are becoming interested in their personal appearance and have begun to  show the normal desire to &ldquo;dress us,&rdquo; but there is no money in the home above that needed for the bare necessities.  The girls are bright, attractive, but very self-willed.</p></div><div><head>CASE 59<hsep>Elln Memorial<lb>POULOS<hsep>Boston, Mass.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Crk.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 48, W. 40)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">14, 10, 7</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Shoe Factory Worker<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">market changes</hi></hi></p><p>Nicholas Poulos has a wife, Helen, and three children, George, 14; Theodore, 10; and Katherine, 7.  He worked on shoes in Greece and has done the same work in factories since coming to this country, nineteen years ago.</p><p>When I first knew Mrs. Poulos she was happy, gay and pretty, liking a good time and wise in her attitude toward her children.  Her whole family radiated cleanliness and general well-being.</p><p>Market changes caused this unemployment, for the shoe industry has to a great extent left this part of New England.</p><p>When I first knew Mr. Poulos, he generally had no work for one month, part-time for about three months, and full-time for the rest of the year.  Now he has full-time for about one month, part-time about five months and no work <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110211">211</controlpgno><printpgno>160</printpgno></pageinfo>for the rest of the year.  His full-time wage is $25 and he is now getting about $10 and expecting that to lessen and stop soon.  He has tried unsuccessfully to supplement this.</p><p>The family could save little when $25 was the maximum weekly wage.  They have been forced to let two insurance policies lapse.  Their rent was many months behind last winter when Mrs. Poulos got work in a laundry.  Her $12 a week helped them over the weeks of Mr. Poulos&rsquo; unemployment and is making it possible for them to catch up with their bills now.  They always manage to pay their bills in time so that their friends lend them money.  Some help has been received from Family Welfare, but only for things relating to health, glasses, teeth, etc.</p><p>Owing to Mr. Poulos&rsquo; cleanliness and industry, at first glance the home seems unchanged.  But clothes are made over and over and meal standards are much lower.  The younger boy is reported undernourished and his having his dinners at a diet kitchen.  The mother is not well enough to work but is nevertheless doing it because of necessity.  Her own housework is done in the evenings, with some help from her family.</p><p>Mr. Poulos considers that he is doing his best and is in no way responsible, and that if he isn&apos;t able to support his family, some one else will have to do it.  He doesn&apos;t seem too troubled over the family&apos;s predicament and doesn&apos;t mind receiving help, though he won&apos;t ask for it.  He searches for jobs, but he is not adaptable.</p><p>His wife is quite the opposite.  At the dispensary, they say her health condition is due entirely to the home situation.  She worries constantly and works beyond her strength, but has not lost one bit of self-respect.  Instead of asking for help she borrows from her friends, who lend to her because they know she will return it.  When her husband works full time they catch up a bit and get a few necessary things, but can&apos;t seem to get ahead enough to see them over the next hard stretch.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110212">212</controlpgno><printpgno>161</printpgno></pageinfo><p>George is still in school because he is small for his age and can&apos;t get a job.</p><p>The mother shows irritation and the children react to it.  She has become very bitter towards her husband because of his rather casual attitude (which may be assumed) and he resents it.  The general atmosphere is distinctly inharmonious.</p><p>The loss of the mother in the home is a serious one to the little children.  She herself has no recreation nor chance of securing relaxation, and is not strong enough to go on working.</p></div><div><head>CASE 60<hsep>Greenwich House<lb>MERCATO<hsep>New York City, N. Y.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Ital.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 34, W. 23)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">2&half; mos.</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">House-Painter<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">seasoned slackness</hi></hi></p><p>Mr. Mercato came to this country from Italy in 1916 and was naturalized in 1918.  He obtained work as an apprentice painter for six months, receiving from $1 to $2 a day.  At the end of this period, he became an independent painter and followed this line ever since.  His work varies with the seasons,&mdash;from September to November, which is the busiest season, he makes $12 a day.  From May to August, he can obtain work for about $6 to $7 a day.  The rest of the year he is idle.</p><p>He attended night school for three months while he was in the army, and learned to speak English well.  He is above the average in intelligence, most co&ouml;perative and courteous.  He paints pictures for a pastime.  The family lives in a three-room apartment, paying $20 a month rent.</p><p>Mr. Mercato has been out of work for six months (since December, 1928).  Because of the seasonal nature of his employment, he usually lays aside as much as possible during the time he is working.  This amounts to approximately $400.  This was enough to see him through when he was single, <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110213">213</controlpgno><printpgno>162</printpgno></pageinfo>but since his marriage a year ago, he finds it insufficient for a wife, child and himself.  He has borrowed $100 from the Veterans&rsquo; Bureau and $140 from the bank, using two bank shares which he owns as collateral.  He has no insurance and thus far has been able to pay his rent and union dues.  He has not received any relief from agencies or church, saying that he does not like to ask aid.</p><p>So far as the visitors was able to observe, the family has been able to maintain its usual standards.  The rooms were very neat and clean.  The family was fairly well-dressed, clean, and apparently well-nourished.</p><p>Mr. Mercato has a troubled expression on his face, but seems to be facing the situation with good courage.  He has tried repeatedly to find work in some other line, using employment agencies, newspapers, and going to different factories, but without success.  He feels somewhat bitter.  He says he has been cheated several times by employment agencies.  He has also tried to get work with the city for three years without success because he cannot bribe the necessary officials.  He received a verdict of $275 in 1925 against a former employer for non-payment of contract but as yet has been unable to collect it.</p><p>There seems to be every indications of co&ouml;peration and harmony between Mr. and Mrs. Mercato.</p></div><div><head>CASE 61<hsep>South Boston Neighborhood House<lb>FLANEGAN<hsep>Boston, Mass.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Irish percentage) (M. 45; W. 39)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">7 ranging from 3 to 17 yrs.</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Teamster<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">mechanization</hi></hi></p><p>There are nine of the Flanegans:  father, mother and seven children, whose ages range from 3 to 17 years.</p><p>The father and the 17-year-old-son are the breadwinners for the family.  The father was formerly employed for five <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110214">214</controlpgno><printpgno>163</printpgno></pageinfo>and a half days a week as a teamster, and earned $32.  The boy received $12 a week as an apprentice to a painter.</p><p>Mr. Flanegan has been unable to get regular employment for over a year because of the fact that trucks are replacing horses in this locality.  He has been an unusually good teamster for sixteen years in the employ of a trucking company which makes a specially of transporting crude oil.</p><p>Originally he worked five and a half days, but at the present time, he works for one or two days and makes from $7 to $12.  With the son&apos;s $12, the family income averages about $21 a week.</p><p>As soon as trucks began to replace horses, Mr. Flanegan looked about for other work, but was unsuccessful.  He tried to learn to drive a truck but could not master it.  He continues to pick odd jobs.  Unable to collect enough money to buy a team, he has not had the incentive to go into business for himself.</p><p>The family have succeeded in living down to their income; what few savings they had were stretched until they were exhausted.  Apparently, there is no debt.</p><p>Two years ago, they moved into a poorer house with only four rooms, but retained enough furniture to be comfortable.  Although the furniture is somewhat dilapidated, it would seem that at one time it was fit for more pretentious surroundings.  The godmother of the youngest child is giving aid at times.</p><p>It would seem that there has been a gradual lowering of standards all the way around.  The general air of dilapidation of what must have been good furniture, and the old clothes that at one time were good, would seem to indicate that the family is trying to get along on its old resources.</p><p>They use a small store room without a window as a double bedroom.  The children are not particularly healthy; the fact that they are fat indicates an unbalanced diet.  They seem susceptible to colds and minor skin diseases.  The mother makers a conscientious effort to take care that dental work is kept up.  She has not been able to undertake outside <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110215">215</controlpgno><printpgno>164</printpgno></pageinfo>work for lack of time, since three of the children are under school age.</p><p>Mr. Flanegan seems to be crushed and has little initiative; he is irritable and unhappy, and makes no effort to be helpful around the house.  His wife, who is of an even, carefree disposition, does what she can to keep the family respectable.  The oldest boy, who is not particularly bright, tries hard to be of assistance.  He works regularly and cheerfully and contributes all of his salary.</p><p>The remaining children are all cheerful and helpful.  They run errands and supply their own small needs with what they can earn about the neighborhood.  The six-year-old boy recently earned his quarter for registration fee to the Neighborhood House by running errands for a week for a woman who lives near by.</p><p>The children seem to be buoyed up by the mother&apos;s cheerfulness.  Aside from the small quarrels current if families of this type, the family is a pleasant one.</p><p>The father seems to be the only one affected by the unemployment.  When he is morose, he makes an attempt to get liquor.  The mother tries to dissuade him, but does not have much success.</p><p>This family uses the Neighborhood House for recreation.  Schooling, of necessity, will be limited, yet the mother is anxious that the children learn trades.  There is little future planning in the family circle.  They feel that life is just going on and that their part is to exist as well as possible.</p></div><div><head>CASE 62<hsep>Family Welfare Society<lb>SMITHERS<hsep>Atlanta, Ga.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 52, W. 39)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">21, 19, 16, 14, 9, 7, 5, 2</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Sheet-Metal Worker<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>The Smithers family consists of Mr. and Mrs. Smithers and their nine children, whose names and ages are as follows: <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110216">216</controlpgno><printpgno>165</printpgno></pageinfo>Henry, 21; Mildren, 19; Elmer, 16; Byron, 14; Grace, 12, Nancy, 9; Vera, 7; Virginia, 5; and Mary, 2.</p><p>The father of the family is a sheet-metal worker.  His average wage is $24 a week.  Henry had followed the same trade until the building slump in 1926, when both father and son lost their jobs, Mildred then went to work for $5 a week in a tire company.  Mr. Smithers had bought his home, and up to the time his unemployment started, he had been making a fairly good living, and the family standards were good, although they had had some sickness.  Both parents have had grade school education.</p><p>General business depression in the sheet-metal trade following the collapse of the Florida boom probably caused the unemployment of both father and son.  The father was out of work for seven months, and knowing no other trade, did nothing.  Henry, however, got a job as elevator boy at $10 a week.</p><p>Payments on the home could not be kept up, and debts accumulated. They had no savings, and the family had to borrow $150 on their furniture to meet payments on their house.  They were so badly in debt that some of their current expenses had to be met by the Welfare Society.  The family was deprived of even Henry&apos;s small earnings, as he left home in the midst of their poverty.</p><p>The entire family suffered from hookworm and as a result of this and of poor diet were undernourished.  Grace and Mildred were both sick from lack of dental treatment</p><p>Mr. Smithers seemed discouraged.  He worked with the same contractor whenever there was work to be done, but did not seek work elsewhere.  He did not seem averse to asking for or receiving help, and has faced the situation rather passively.</p><p>The mother became highly nervous, developed a begging tendency, and worried unnecessarily.  At the same time she and the children grew quarrelsome, and it was then that Henry left home.  The mother began encouraging the children to exaggerate their slightest ailment.  She began getting <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110217">217</controlpgno><printpgno>166</printpgno></pageinfo>on bad terms with her own family.  Henry began to dress showily, and to spend all the money he could on clothes, and neglected his work when he had any.  The children are described as becoming very neurasthenic.  Mildred, for example, has developed hysteria and at one time was thought to be paralyzed.</p><p>None of the children is able to have vocational training.  The mother is frantic, thinking always that they will lose their home and furniture, and that the children will not have medical treatment.  She has nervous spells which may have serious consequences.  The father described temporarily, and this may have resulted in decreasing his sense of responsibility.  Mildred is continually losing jobs through failure to adjust.  Elmer is working on a farm, earning about $2 a week, but has become very disobedient and dissatisfied in the home.</p><p>The whole family is becoming more and more dependant on social agencies.</p></div><div><head>CASE 63<hsep>Houston Guild<lb>DANTE<hsep>New York City, N.Y.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Ital.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M.);</hi> <hi rend="smallcaps">Amer</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Irish parentage) (W.)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">2 chn.</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Office Employee in Market<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>The Dante family consists of Mr. and Mrs. Dante and their two children.  At the time they were married  (about five years ago) Mr. Dante was an office employee in one of the large wholesale markets of the city.  The family income at that time or shortly after was probably $60 per week.  Both these people had been known to the settlement since they were children having been members of clubs.  Before her marriage, Mrs. Dante had worked in an office, receiving about $20 per week.  The husband did very well <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110218">218</controlpgno><printpgno>167</printpgno></pageinfo>in his work, but suddenly, through some &ldquo;misunderstanding&rdquo; and false  accusations, he lost his job soon after the birth of the second child.  Their standard of living up to this time had been considerably higher than either of them had been used to before they were married.  They bought a house in the suburbs with many of the modern conveniences.  Before they were married each one had lived in an old New York tenement without baths, the only running water being at the kitchen sink, while in their new home they had a bathroom and shower and a breakfast nook, which was the last word in elegance.</p><p>His unemployment coming at a time of general business depression, Mr. Dante had difficulty in getting a job and was out of work for nearly a year.  During this year he opened a fruit stand which soon failed.  Then, for a short time, he got temporary work where he earned $30 a week.</p><p>The family had some savings which saw then through the first weeks of unemployment.  Then they sold their house at a loss of $1,100.  They allowed the insurance to lapse, put the furniture in storage, borrowed money from friends and Mrs. Dante and the children went to live with her mother and family.</p><p>No financial aid was received from the settlement.</p><p>At this time Mrs. Dante&apos;s mother and father were both taken seriously ill and the wages of her father being withdrawn, the situation in this home became very difficult.  The financial burden here fell on there working girls, younger sisters of Mrs. Dante.  They, too, had been forced to move from a comfortable apartment up town to a west side tenement of eight rooms.  Here Mrs. Dante assumed responsibility for the care of her own small brothers and sisters as well as for her own two children.  The household consisted of seventeen, including Mrs. Dante&apos;s mother, who was losing her eyesight, her father, who was ill in bed, and her grandmother, an old woman who went out by the day to do washing and cleaning.  The house was terribly overcrowded and standards of living were obviously lowered.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110219">219</controlpgno><printpgno>168</printpgno></pageinfo><p>Mr. Dante became discouraged and because his wife&apos;s sisters would not have him in the home where they were the only breadwinners and he was earning nothing, he went to live with his married sister.  Mrs. Dante grew more and more discouraged and although she was much needed to care for things in her mother&apos;s home, her sisters made her feel that the presence of herself and two children was an added burden.  This all led to much conflict and disharmony in the home atmosphere.</p><p>Mr. Dante grew more and more dissolute and could most times be found in the headquarters of neighborhood boot-leggers.  He neglected his family more and more.  His wife believed that he did look for work, but she was much more active than he in following up clues and seeing friends who might be helpful.  His reluctance to do this she attributed to pride.</p><p>Finally through a friend he got a job which pays $40  a week.  They have taken four rooms and are again established as a family.</p></div><div><head>CASE 64<hsep>Rus House<lb>SAPELLI<hsep>New York City, N.Y.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Ital.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 46, W. 32)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">14, 13, 12, 9, 6, 11 mos.</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chef<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>The Sapelli family has been known to the settlement for seven years.  The father is an excellent Italian chef who learned to cook in Italy.  He worked at the same restaurant in New York for eight years, and earned from $32 to $40 a week.</p><p>The family, which is unusually refined, has been a very happy one and the house was well-ordered and the seven children clean and healthy.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110220">220</controlpgno><printpgno>169</printpgno></pageinfo><p>On account of the general depression and because the restaurant did not sell wine, the restaurant failed and Mr. Sapelli lost his position.  He found another position at $25 a week where he worked seven months.  Here they did do some bootlegging, and finally the owner took fright as the waiter was arrested, so he closed the shop.  Mr. Sapelli has been out of work four months.</p><p>The settlement secured him a temporary position at $25 a week where a chef was on vacation.  When the chef returned the settlement secured Mr. Sapelli part-time work cooking special dinners and for parties.  He made from $10 to $15 a day but would only work one or two days a week and this was very uncertain.</p><p>A little money had been saved, but that was quickly used up.  They received credit at the grocery store where they had traded for years and always paid.  The landlord was also willing to wait for the rent ($22 a month) because they had been good tenants.</p><p>One ring was pawned for $5 when the baby was sick and needed a doctor.  Then Sadie&apos;s communion ring was pawned for $15, when the mother had to go to the dentist.  The dentist told her that treating her teeth would cost $600, so after a week of sleepless nights and family consultations, she had them all pulled out for $10.</p><p>Of course, they are not able to keep up their usual standards.  The children are not now as neat and well cared for.  At times they look pale and haggard, and are fretful.  The mother, too, is cross, and she says she cannot be happy and patient when she does not know what is to become of them, and going into debt worries her.  As yet they have received no relief from the church or a social agency.  If the father does not soon secure regular employment they must ask for help.</p><p>The baby should have milk, but they cannot afford to buy it regularly.  When thee mother has the money, however, she gets milk for the baby.</p><p>The father is trying every day to get a steady job, for he is <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110221">221</controlpgno><printpgno>170</printpgno></pageinfo>honest and hard-working.  He tries to help the mother all he can and encourage her.</p></div><div><head>CASE 65<hsep>Neighborhood Centre<lb>SOYENSKY<hsep>Philadelphia, Pa.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Rus. Jew. parentage) (M. 26;<lb>W. 28)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">3, 20 mos.</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Carpenter<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">seasonal slackness</hi></hi></p><p>The visitor was greeted at the door by two children, Leo, aged 3, and Raymond, 20 months. Shortly after the visitor walked into the living room, Mrs. Soyensky came down stairs, beaming and clean.  &ldquo;Well, hello, Miss&mdash;I have just bathed the children and was finishing cleaning the upstairs rooms.&rdquo;</p><p>With amazement, the visitor heard that the mother and children were preparing themselves for the &ldquo;general exodus&rdquo; &mdash;to move the next day, leaving Mr. Soyensky at home to do as he pleased.  The children busied themselves in the adjoining room and Mrs. Soyensky, undisturbed, poured out the following story: &ldquo;It&apos;s this way.  I&apos;m sick and tired of staying with him; so I just made up my mind that I&apos;d take the children and find myself two rooms and work, and know that at least I won&apos;t have to listen to that husband of mine come home at night after he&apos;s done nothing all day while I worked, and give me a scolding.  At least, I&apos;ll teach him a lesson.  When I went to work several months ago at my old trade, I thought it would help our problems.  He&apos;s a carpenter by trade but hasn&apos;t worked for six months.  This is the longest time he&apos;s ever been out of work.  Last winter, he wasn&apos;t at anything steady either, but he got an offer to do some bootlegging, and he earned quite a bit until he got caught.  The trial is coming off soon.  It&apos;s a good thing that <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110222">222</controlpgno><printpgno>171</printpgno></pageinfo>his boss had enough money left to bail him out &lsquo;cause goodness knows where it would have come from otherwise.  &lsquo;Course I ain&apos;t blamin&rsquo; him&mdash;it&apos;s the times.  You know they say we&apos;ve never been so hard hit.  I got a brother-in-law who is a real mechanic, makes $50 a week and he&apos;s been out of work so long&mdash;almost as long as my husband.  The trouble is this&mdash;my husband isn&apos;t a skilled carpenter&mdash;the only thing he does is put in floors, but if the buildings aren&apos;t made how can you expect floors to be needed?  And when he did work a little,&mdash;that is a long time ago,&mdash;before this last long spell, &mdash;he worked so cheap, in order to get the job, it hurt.</p><p>&ldquo;We used to be able to sit down and talk over things, but now it&apos;s no use.  We&apos;ve both gotten so worn out thinking about how to get enough to eat that we have no patience with each other.  Yesterday was the last straw.  He said when he&apos;s out looking for work all day he comes home tired and disgusted, and how can I expect him to prepare the dinner?  So I told him he was lazy and didn&apos;t care whether the children had shoes and I got real angry and told him that I was through&mdash;I was carrying too much responsibility and it was killing me.  I&apos;d have to work anyway,&mdash;and if I went away and got the children and myself a small place, at least I&apos;d be able to come home without hearing him call me down for not having something to satisfy his hunger.  But I must have been crazy to even think of the idea of leaving here.  You see, this is our house&mdash;$2,000 mortgages, $8 to pay a week.  If I hadn&apos;t gone to work they would have taken this place away&mdash;they&apos;d have it in the hands of the sheriff.  Even now, we&apos;re behind five weeks on payments and plenty of debts besides that,&mdash;$10 milkman, $15 grocery, and gas, electric, coal and the insurance.  Listen to this,&mdash;for Leo, the oldest child, we once took out an insurance policy&mdash;we are supposed to pay 25 cents a week on it and honestly that 25 cents to me now seems like that many dollars.</p><p>&ldquo;You know, I&apos;ve been working now for several months as a dress operator,&mdash;you know, ever since you&apos;ve taken the children in the nursery, and I used the money to buy necessary <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110223">223</controlpgno><printpgno>172</printpgno></pageinfo>clothes and shoes and to pay bach my sister from whom I had borrowed to pay on the house.  We took my husband&apos;s father and sister to live with us.  We sort of thought that the money they paid would help to buy the food at least.  But the whole arrangement is more bother than it&apos;s worth&mdash;they always complain that the suppers are not good.  I know why this is,&mdash;&apos;cause often I cook food to last several days since I have no time to cook every night.  I come home too late and I&apos;ve found that soups and some meats last a couple of days.  Lately, I&apos;ve found meats cost too much, so we have herring and potatoes and soups.  For the past months, I&apos;ve gotten only one quart of milk instead of two.  My husband has been suffering with stomach trouble because he cats in such cheap places during the day,&mdash;that is, if he eats at all.  As for me, I haven&apos;t been feeling well either&mdash;I get excited and aggravated so easily.  I need to go to the dentist, but I&apos;ve owed him $6 for about four months and I can&apos;t go back until I can pay him.  I borrowed money from my sister to give him, but I had to use it for food instead.  You know, it doesn&apos;t take me long to tell you all this, but it&apos;s made a lot of difference.&rdquo;</p></div><div><head>CASE 66<hsep>Wesley Community House<lb>CONWAY<hsep>Louisville, Ky.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. &amp; W. about 39)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn.</hi>  <hi rend="italics">6 ranging from 2 to 18 yrs.</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Worker at Ford Plant; Then at Odd<lb>Jobs<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>&ldquo;Yes, I can tell you what unemployment has done for us.  It has got us so deep in debt that we never will be able to pull out.&rdquo;  There was some bitterness in the voice, but as she finished, Mrs. Company turned around with a little laugh that showed her dauntless spirit.</p><p>The Conway family&apos;s bright and attractive children are <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110224">224</controlpgno><printpgno>173</printpgno></pageinfo>six in number, ranging in age from two to eighteen years.  The youngest child is the only boy.  The mother is a small, slight woman with much nervous energy.  Mr. Conway is a steady, industrious man, who had had a good job at the Ford plant.  Two or more years ago, the plant began running part-time and his pay envelope failed to cover his expenses.  Finally, Mr. Conway decided to try some other place where work was more regular even though wages might not be as high.  Owing to the industrial depression, he has only been able to secure temporary jobs.  His morale broke down under the strain and he took to drinking rather heavily.  For a time, his wife felt that he was not trying to find work.  The oldest daughter then tried to secure work, but she was so small and looked such a child for her age that it was a long time before she got regular employment.  The second daughter finished grammar school but could not enter high school because the family did not feel able to keep her there.  She stayed at home for a time while the mother went to work, but Mrs. Conway did not feel this was a good thing for the family because the 14-year-old girl could not adequately care for the children.  Relations became strained in the home so that Mrs. Conway finally appealed to the Juvenile Court to help straighten out Mr. Conway.  From the Family Service, aid also was secured which tided them over the worst.</p><p>In speaking of the health of the children, Mrs. Conway said that she did not believe they had suffered physically from the unemployment, for they went in debt for food, and her sister and the settlement helped out with the clothing and shoes.  Mrs. Conway is very handy and has lots of taste about the children&apos;s clothes and has kept them dressed out of the things she &ldquo;made over&rdquo; from the settlement supply closet.  They had to move, however, to cheaper quarters, but her rooms are fairly comfortable although they have no conveniences of water as at the other place.</p><p>While there was apparently no breaking of health, they have not been able to attend to their teeth except at the free clinic, and at the birth of the last baby, the city doctor was <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110225">225</controlpgno><printpgno>174</printpgno></pageinfo>called in.  At other times, Mrs. Conway had been able to have her own physician.</p><p>There was a letting down of moral standards, for at one time during the long unemployment period, they began making and selling &ldquo;home brew,&rdquo; justifying themselves that they had to have money.  At this time, Mrs. Conway stopped going to church and almost entirely gave up coming to the Mother&apos;s Club,&mdash;one place that had meant much to her.  However, Mr. Conway is now back at work at his old place, though not yet on full time.  The oldest daughter has regular work at a very small wage; the second daughter stays at home and helps her mother, who has given up her job.  Mrs. Conway has begun to come back to the settlement Mother&apos;s Club and now is more hopeful than she has been, although their heads are hardly above water yet&mdash;and cannot well be until Mr. Conway&apos;s place resumes full time work.</p></div><div><head>CASE 67<hsep>Webster House<lb>CURRY<hsep>Philadelphia, Pa.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Irish parentage) (M. 39; W. 35)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">15&half;, 14, 3&half;, 5, 3 mos.</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Truck-Driver<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>The Curry family is American born, of Irish extraction.  There are seven children.</p><p>Mr. Curry worked for a large construction company for seven years, driving a truck, and earning at the lowest $36 a week.  The Currys have had only a grammar school education, but seem superior in intelligence to their neighbors.  They seemed to be a well-ordered, happy, affectionate household.  The house was comfortable and the furniture paid for and they had a radio.  The children were well dressed, and were members of various groups at the settlement.  The mother was in the Mothers&rsquo; Club.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110226">226</controlpgno><printpgno>175</printpgno></pageinfo><p>Both the general business depression and seasonal work, reflected in the seasonal character of building trades, played a part in this unemployment story.  The construction company kept Mr. Curry on the job, even when business was slack.  Then the firm went into the hands of receivers.  The temporary management also employed him, until the place closed.  Then he was out of work for five months.  Work as an extra was secured for two weeks in a big electric plant.  Occasional jobs at trucking were also obtained.  Mr. Curry would have done any unskilled labor but could find none.</p><p>He is now working for a construction company at $26 per week of forty-eight hours and is hopeful that that work will continue through the summer.</p><p>Their savings of $40 were soon used.  Mrs. Curry went to work cleaning offices in the early  morning and late evening hours, at $12.  The oldest girl had to give up school and go to work at $8 per week, in a clothing store.  They have managed to pay the rent, but are behind in insurance.  Some store bills are still unpaid, but so far the family has been so proud to ask for help.</p><p>A marked difference can be noticed in the following.  The clothes have been washed, re-made and patched.  The 11-year-old girl has shown the effect of poor nourishment in a nervous reaction.  For their minor illness the settlement free clinic has been used.</p><p>When the last baby was born Mrs. Curry had the services of student doctors from a nearby maternity clinic.  They have not been able properly to heat their home.  The mother says, &ldquo;It&apos;s either coal or shoes and they <hi rend="italics">must</hi> have shoes to go to school.&rdquo;  She was very unhappy and nervous about having to give up work a few months prior to the birth of her last baby.</p><p>Mr. Curry has shown great anxiety toward the family situation.  He shows his nervous condition by irritation toward the children, but otherwise he faces the problem bravely.  The oldest girl was greatly disappointed not to go high school but will not tell her parents because she &ldquo;does not <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110227">227</controlpgno><printpgno>176</printpgno></pageinfo>want to worry them.&rdquo;  Mrs. Curry is depressed at not being able to give the children more advantages.</p><p>Mrs. Curry has said, &ldquo;If it weren&apos;t for the clubs at the settlement, my children have very little pleasure.  I can&apos;t afford to let them go to the movies.  They miss the radio&mdash;it&apos;s been out of order for almost two years&mdash;but you can&apos;t eat <hi rend="italics">that,</hi> and food comes first!&rdquo;  The parents hope that if the two older girls help (the 14&mdash;year-old girl hopes to work this summer), the younger children may have some advantages that the older ones missed.</p><p>I feel that the home has lost most, through unemployment, that feeling of hopefulness  for the future that comes with a savings account, no matter how small.</p></div><div><head>CASE 68<hsep>Alta House<lb>GAVIN<hsep>Cleveland, Ohio</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Ital. parentage) (M. 28; W. 24)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">4-yr.-old</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Wood-worker<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>Mr. Gavin is a young, strong, skilled wood-worker.  He is of Italian parentage and has had a good common school education.  He is ambitious to have substantial home for his family, provision for a comfortable future including educational advantages for his children and suitable security against poverty in his old age.  His wife is equally ambitious, and still keeps the home beautifully clean and attractive.</p><p>The food was carefully planned and prepared, served well and at regular hours.</p><p>The child was brought up in a careful modern manner, with due regard to hours of rest and correct diet, and proper training in general health habits.</p><p>Money was saved each day.  There was no foolish outlay of money, but they had many comforts and some few <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110228">228</controlpgno><printpgno>177</printpgno></pageinfo>extras.  For example, they had a victrola and radio, which gave them great pleasure.</p><p>General depression in building and related trades, coupled with some poor management in the shop, threw Mr. Gavin out of work, for a full year he was not able to secure a steady job in his own trade.  He looked for and accepted whatever he could secure,&mdash;working as a common laborer, gardener, fence-builder, painter,&mdash;anything that would help to earn something.  There were many weeks when there was no income, and at no time was it in any way adequate.</p><p>The habit of saving which the family had practised now proved its value.  By careful economy they were able to keep up insurance and other expenses of like nature; rent was not so hard to manage as they lived in a part of the house owned by Mrs. Gavin&apos;s mother, who also was able to help with food at times when it was most needed.</p><p>When the father first lost his regular work, the little girl was too young to be left, but as soon as she was three and a half; the mother secured a position in a sweater factory.</p><p>There have been no serious physical effects which could be noticed at this time.  The parents lived on a much restricted diet, but were able to keep the food for the little girl up to standard, and they were fortunate enough to have had no serious illness of any kind.  However, they both showed the effect of worry and strain,&mdash;loss of weight and some loss of cheerfulness.</p><p>As a result of having to use the savings to provide normal living during this year of unemployment, there resulted a feeling of insecurity which was early manifested in some irritability in both parents.  The wife felt that she should, as soon as possible, do her share toward rebuilding the foundation of material security for the future.</p><p>The little girl is now left in the care of her grandmother, who speaks very little English, is quite old and not in very good health.  The result for the child is unfortunate, because she is being allowed to fall into irregular habits and she misses her parents.  This, to them, seems unimportant in <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110229">229</controlpgno><printpgno>178</printpgno></pageinfo>comparison with securing their future.  The fact that Mrs. Gavin is working has eased the anxiety of her husband and probably restrained him from bootlegging, which might have been his way of quickly rebuilding the family fortunes.</p><p>Mrs. Gavin still has her home to look after as well as the sewing and mending, and while her work at the factory is not particularly arduous, the hours are long, so there is neither time nor energy for much relaxation.</p><p>In their anxiety to recover their material security quickly, this family has lost sight of the possible far-reaching influence the lack of proper care and happiness may have upon the future of their child.  After being away all day, the parents are too tired when at home to give her the careful attention and joyous companionship which she needs.</p><p>The young father misses the happy joyful evenings and the child is disobedient and fretful.  The radio is silent and nerves are tense, smiles are infrequent and sharp words spoken quite often.  However, the mother has promised that she will soon stop working and again remain at home.</p></div><div><head>CASE 69<hsep>Elizabeth Peabody House<lb>ZOLETTI<hsep>Boston, Mass.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Ital.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 39; W. 36)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">14, 12, 9, 7, 3</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Shoe-Factory Worker<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">failure of factory, general depression</hi></hi></p><p>Vincent Zoletti was born in Italy, but has been in the United States since 1913.  His wife, Maria, was born in the United States.  There are five children:  Toni, 14; Marie, 12; Vincent, 9; Caterina, 7, and Joseph, 3.</p><p>When Zoletti came to this country, he obtained work in a shoe factory, and continued there for twelve years.  He began at $22 per week, was advanced rapidly, and at the time the firm failed, was earning $50 per week.  When first married, the family lived in a five-room tenement with a <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110230">230</controlpgno><printpgno>179</printpgno></pageinfo>dining room.  When unemployment came, they moved into their present four-room tenement ($28 a month rent) and sold their dining room set.  At that time, the family had $1,800 in bank.</p><p>Zoletti is a good-looking man and his wife is a tall, attractive person, gentle in voice and manner.  Her patience with her children, her reputation as a good cook, and her refinement make her much looked up to by her neighbors.</p><p>Since the shoe factory failed three years ago, Vincent Zoletti has tried everything,&mdash;even to running a push cart.  &ldquo;Push cart trade no longer any good,&rdquo; he says, since the chain stores have come in, Now and then, he picked up jobs in surrounding shoe factories but has only managed to work ten to fifteen weeks in a year.  The savings, in his words, &ldquo;went like lighting.&rdquo;</p><p>Mrs. Zoletti&apos;s mother owned the tenement in which the family lived and needed the rent to pay her taxes and mortgage interest.  It was necessary for Zoletti to borrow $300 from a loan company in order to pay the back rent, some food bills, doctor&apos;s bills and money borrowed from friends.  He agreed to pay back the loan at the rate of $6 a week.</p><p>At one time the family carried life insurance to the extent of $2,000 which meant paying $100 a year.  After giving this up, they took out insurance costing only $1.84 a week.</p><p>Last November, Zoletti went to work in the Harvard Shoe Factory.  At first on part-time, he is now on full-time earning $48 per week, but at a meeting of the union, he says, it was decided to &ldquo;put another man on the job,&rdquo; so his wages must be cut again.  Mr. and Mrs. Zoletti now seem thoroughly disheartened.  Mrs. Zoletti says that worry over unemployment has made her husband irritable and impatient with the children.  She says that she herself never has a happy moment.  She cannot sleep because of planning and trying to cut down the children&apos;s food.  Her head felt so queer she called in the doctor, who now does not charge her anything.  He told her to go to the park with the children every day, otherwise worry would leave the children <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110231">231</controlpgno><printpgno>180</printpgno></pageinfo>without a mother, and worse off.  He advised her to go to the Mothers&rsquo; Club at the settlement to keep cheerful.  She says she will try.  &ldquo;It is hard,&mdash;I have a heavy heart.&rdquo;</p><p>Mr. and Mrs. Zoletti do not want Toni to leave school because, says his mother, &ldquo;Education is very important these days.  If he can go to school, he can help more.  But&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p></div><div><head>CASE 70<hsep>Neighborhood House<lb>FAILEY<hsep>Louisville, Ky.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 42; W. 46)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">15, 13, 11, 9, 17</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Carpenter and Plumber<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">seasonal slackness, depression and oversupply<lb>of labor</hi></hi></p><p>There are five children in the Failey family:  Charles, 15; Mike, 13; Annie, 11; Julia, 9; Adeline, 7.</p><p>Before unemployment struck the Failey household, they would have been classed as an average, promising American family of working people.  They had a comfortable home in a good district, better furnished even than one would expect in their circumstances.  Mr. Failey was a carpenter and a plumber, working at whichever trade the construction company by which he was employed most needed him.  To be sure, at times work was somewhat slack, and he would be laid off a few days.  But when he did work, he made excellent wages.  The Faileys did not save, however.  They had no thought of almost total unemployment.  Mr. Failey had always been able to find work and since the &ldquo;boom&rdquo; brought about by the war, he had never had difficulty in finding a job that paid well.</p><p>During the winter of 1926, construction work became slack.  Mr. Failey was laid off several months.  But with a little help from a minister acquainted with the family, they managed to pull through.  The following winter, though, Mr. Failey  was out practically the entire winter.  Mrs. Failey took in roomers, but they failed to pay their rent.  Mrs. Failey <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110232">232</controlpgno><printpgno>181</printpgno></pageinfo>was too ill (having at all times been delicate in health and more ill than ever, since she could not have the medical attention to which she had been accustomed) to go out to work.  So the family sold the furniture, bit by bit, for money with which to purchase food.  Finally it was all gone.  The family decided to move to two small rooms in the congested business retail neighborhood.</p><p>Mr. Failey, disgusted with the family finances and the lack of work, took to bad company and drinking.  Abuse of the children and his wife followed.  Mrs. Failey began to nag and matters came to a head.</p><p>Just at this time, however, the minister who had guided them through before found temporary work for Mr. Failey.  For a time it seemed as though the family disaster had been averted.   Mrs. Failey dropped the idea of securing a divorce from her husband.  She began fixing up the two bare rooms and purchased some furniture from the Good-Will Industries to which she had been directed.  She also began taking treatments at a hospital for her ailment.  But prosperity did not last long.  Mr. Failey was again laid off.  The three older boys found paper routes in the hope of financing the family until their father found another position.  Kept out on the streets at all hours of the day and night, the boys soon fell into bad company.  Their father had been drinking again and they, too, took to liquor.  Not long since a policemen was forced to carry one of the boys home from the street where he had fallen, too intoxicated to walk.  Frequently the paper routes and the work they undertook on paper delivery trucks made them late for school.  Rather than attend late, they played truant.  As the habit of absence from the school grew, they frequently found odd jobs during the school hours.  At present they refuse to try in their school work.  All the day and most of the night they spend away from the two congested rooms in which seven people are trying to live and where the mother and father are continually quarreling and fighting.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110233">233</controlpgno><printpgno>182</printpgno></pageinfo><p>Desperate for money, Mr. Failey sold goods not belonging to him and was put in jail.  At this time the family, left totally without food or fuel, appealed to the Family Service.  Mr. Failey became ill in jail and was transferred to the City Hospital, from which he was soon released.  The minister again prevented a divorce by securing temporary work for Mr. Failey.  This period of relief was but short-lived.  Mr. Failey is again out of work and the boys are still remaining away from school to sell papers.  The Family is under the care of the Family Service.  The children are suffering permanent injury from lack of proper food.  Several times recently they have been in brawls on the playground for taking away cakes and candy from smaller boys.</p><p>In their present state of disorganization and disharmony, it seems that nothing short of a miracle can keep the Failey family together.  A divorce, so often threatened, is the inevitable outcome unless Mr. Failey secures permanent, well-paid work so that he will regain his self-respect and have his mind profitably occupied.  Moving his family into a respectable neighborhood and comfortable living quarters will be one way of again gaining control of his children and starting them on the right track.</p></div><div><head>CASE 71<hsep>Family Welfare Society<lb>CANTOR<hsep>Atlanta, Ga.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 37; W. 32)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">16, 13, 11, 9, 7</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">R. R. Fireman (Freight)<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">seasonal slackness, depression</hi></hi></p><p>The Cantor family had been able to live in comfort and to accumulate a few home luxuries until the increasing irregularity of Mr. Cantor&apos;s work made it more and more difficult for them to manage.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110234">234</controlpgno><printpgno>183</printpgno></pageinfo><p>Mr. Cantor was employed by a railroad as a freight fireman and was capable of earning $150, and sometimes more, per month.  When motor transports cut the amount of shipping done by rail, his work become slack.  His best season had always been during the early spring months, when shipping of Florida produce had been heaviest, and during the watermelon and peach seasons.  In between times, work had usually been scarce, and Mr. Cantor could not often supplement his earnings with extra work because of the necessity of being ready to accept a run at any time.  But the family had usually saved enough to tide them through the lean months.</p><p>A year or so before, Mrs. Cantor had been quite ill and it had been necessary for her to remain in the hospital several weeks.  Medical care had been necessary afterwards, and Mr. Cantor had to secure a loan from a finance company.  Because of the dull season, he had to borrow more money and still more to pay the interest on the loans.  The family moved to a poor neighborhood where they secured a little four-room house.  The front yard was below the level of the street and there was no place for the children to play comfortably, but the rent was only $10 a month.</p><p>In spite of rigid economy, it was impossible for Mr. Cantor to keep up  current expenses on his earnings, and he was finally forced on account of the ruling of the railroad to declare bankruptcy in order to prevent being garnished.  Because of his high sense of honor, he gave his personal notes to his creditors, following the bankruptcy proceedings, and when the family was reported to our organization, Mr. Cantor had been discharged because of a garnishment from a holder of one of these personal notes.  At this time the family had debts of nearly a thousand dollars.</p><p>Willie Mae (the 14) had stopped school while in the 6th grade and had secured a job at $25 per month in order to provide food for the family.  Mrs. Cantor, who was still frail, was suffering from a great nervous strain brought on because of the insecurity of the family fortunes.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110235">235</controlpgno><printpgno>184</printpgno></pageinfo><p>Through our organization it was possible to adjust Mr. Cantor&apos;s affairs with his creditors in such a way as to avoid further difficulty and he was reinstated by the railroad.  It has also been possible for Willie Mae to re-enter school and it is hoped that more advantageous work can be secured for her later.</p><p>Mrs. Cantor has been put in touch with a local clinic, but because of her reluctance to accept &ldquo;charity&rdquo; care, it has been impossible to secure her co&ouml;peration in regular attendance.  She has minimized both her own physical difficulties as well as those of the children to avoid the necessity of accepting free medical attention.</p><p>The adjustment to a different standard of life has been difficult for the entire family in many other ways.  Willie Mac has been embarrassed to have her former friends see her present home and since there are few desirable associates in the poor neighborhood, she is very much alone.  Recreation has been limited for all of them and Mrs. Cantor has remarked that &ldquo;the children are ashamed to wear shabby clothes to Sunday School, so they do not go often.&rdquo;</p></div><div><head>CASE 72<hsep>Roxbury Neighborhood House<lb>MARTIN<hsep>Boston, Mass.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 50; W. 51)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">19, 17, 15, 11, 5</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Wood-Finisher<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">seasonal slackness and oversupply of labor</hi></hi></p><p>The Martins are straight American.  Mr. Martin&apos;s grandfather was born in Scotland, and Mrs. Martin is of excellent colonial descent.  They are superior-looking people,&mdash;tall, straight, intelligent, but bearing the marks of hard struggle.  A framed ancestral sampler hangs on the parlor wall.</p><p>The family was first known to the settlement twelve years ago, when Mrs. Martin joined the Mother&apos;s Club and <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110236">236</controlpgno><printpgno>185</printpgno></pageinfo>the dramatic group, and she has since filled a responsible position there as an active and acting club member.</p><p>The family consists of Donald, 19; Frances, 17; Mary, 15; Lawrence, 11, and Philip, 5.</p><p>The Martins have sacrificed everything to educate their children.  Donald is just getting through business school and has a position promised him through &ldquo;Cook&apos;s Tours.&rdquo;  He is a fine-looking lad, very intelligent, and speaks Spanish and French.  Frances, who is a senior in high school, is to take a post-graduate course next year, and Mary is doing well.  Lawrence is the delicate one, and is backward.  Of little Philip, it is too early to predict.  Donald, unfortunately, is on &ldquo;the outs&rdquo; with his father and will leave home as soon as he gets his job, which is taking him to South America.  While he will probably be no financial asset, his will be one less mouth to feed.</p><p>Mr. Martin as a young man learned his trade in Halifax where he was apprenticed to a master &ldquo;finisher.&rdquo;  He is an expert workman, a member of the union and does interior finishing on wood and walls, working with a firm which does only &ldquo;millionaire&rdquo; jobs.  From April to November, he works at a weekly wage of $11 a day, five days in the week.  The union does not allow Saturday work.  But on the first day of November the rich move into winter quarters, the workmen move out and Mr. Martin is idle from then until early or late April.  A strain of Scotch obstinacy does not allow Mr. Martin to stoop to &ldquo;slush work&rdquo; as a &ldquo;filler in&rdquo; of the dull months,&mdash;that is, it did not allow him when he could get it and now it is no longer obtainable.  Therefore Mr. Martin&apos;s $55 a week earned regularly for six and sometimes seven months of the year becomes an average of between $27 and $30 weekly for the year as a whole.  But unfortunately, the Martins, like many others, are prone to spend money when they have it and trust to luck that &ldquo;something will turn up&rdquo; in the lean months.  Therefore debts accumulate rapidly during the winter which have to <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110237">237</controlpgno><printpgno>186</printpgno></pageinfo>be paid off in the spring and summer.  And not only debts, but discouragements, sickness, extra expenses of many kinds and bad habits of indolence which spur on bad temper.  In the end the home of the master painter is thoroughly upset by lack of ability to adjust itself to an employment so seasonal.  Only the going to work of the eldest son and daughter will ease the situation.  And they will start in on their industrial career with the handicap of having an undue family burden placed on their young shoulders.</p><p>And as one&apos;s economic cost to the family increases with one&apos;s age, it is doubtful how much will be left over from the wage of the beginner.  Furthermore, in this city, work for boys or girls just out of school is scarce and poorly paid, and if all three older children obtain steady employment of a suitable kind soon after their exits from school, it will be a most unusual situation.</p><p>The family savings last only from the sixth month to the seventh or eighth.  The method is to buy everything needful while they have the money.  They put in the coal in the summer and buy a certain amount of supplies.  The union dues never lapse because they borrow to pay them if they have not the money.  Mr. Martin is in good standing in the union and finds it easy to borrow, but alas, hard to pay back.  There have been many articles pawned, and some sold outright.  So far the children have not worked, but it has only been because of an unmarried aunt who has stepped into the breach in every emergency.  No relief has ben received, though the settlement has often made it possible for Mrs. Martin to buy something really good at a very low cost through a rummage sale.</p><p>While it is believed that the rent has not lapsed, it is to be noticed that the family has moved three times in fifteen years,&mdash;and each time they have either moved down or on the same level.  Each home has seemed just a little drearier than the last, the furnishings have stretched a little less well, and the general atmosphere is poorer.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110238">238</controlpgno><printpgno>187</printpgno></pageinfo><p>The home is curiously barren.  There is a piano paid for by Mrs. Martin&apos;s sister.  There is also a radio,&mdash;but the furnishings are drab and falling to pieces and one can scarcely imagine two proud, refined girls bringing their friends to visit here.  To the outside world, the Martins hold their heads high, say nothing of the family deficiencies and appear to belong to a home that has three times the income which they live on.  Mrs. Martin patronizes every rummage sale and is a restrained buyer, although by instinct she would risk her all for one expensive dress.</p><p>The family on the whole seems well physically.  They are all thin, but none noticeably underweight.  They are not starved for food, but they are often starved for beauty and the love of home has been transferred to outside recreation.  The father goes to his lodge, the mother to her settlement club and her church society, the children to settlement and school centre.  The mother is irritable and bitter at times and has only been saved from more bitterness by her club life, and the real satisfying of her many unsatisfied instincts in her dramatic r&ocirc;les.  She is a loving mother, but has been unable to make a loving home.</p><p>The psychological home consequences are marked in this case.  The wage-earner is proud and silent.  He refuses help and disdains complaint; his attitude has become more and more one of getting out and letting the problems solve themselves.  He turns in all his income when he has it, and he appears to have perfect self-respect, but his nervousness increases from year to year and there is marked inability to get on with his children.  The wife is spunky and does her best to make both ends meet.  But years of experience have not taught her how to plan her income so as to get by, and she feels that the burden falls unduly on her and she is censorious.</p><p>The children reflect the mother&apos;s attitude.  Donald is now about to leave home, probably forever estranged from his father, and while his mother deplores it, she agrees with <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110239">239</controlpgno><printpgno>188</printpgno></pageinfo>him inwardly.  The girls, who are attractive, will doubtless leave, too, as soon as they can.  Their independence, their desire for recreation, their needed relaxation, their thirst for self-improvement are being left unsatisfied.  The family relations might have weathered the differences of age and temperament had not the economic stress been added.  As it is, their background and intelligence have demanded a standard of appearance and of education which have been constantly obtained at a sacrifice and under great strain.</p></div><div><head>CASE 73<hsep>King Philip House<lb>BARTLE<hsep>Fall River, Mass.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Irish parentage) (M. 47, W. 45)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">14, 12, 10</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Printer</hi><hi rend="italics"> (linotype operator)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">discontinuance of paper</hi></hi></p><p>Since losing his job over a year ago because of the discontinuance of the newspaper where he was employed, James Bartle has not worked over six months in all.  He receive $42 a week when he worked steadily, and also receives that when he has an occasional job now.  Every morning he goes to the local newspaper office ready to work as a substitute if there is an opportunity.  He has been out of town several times, but could either get no work or for only a few weeks.</p><p>Had it not been for the money received at the time of Mrs. Bartle&apos;s mother&apos;s death, the family would be practically without funds, for the father&apos;s wage would not permit him to support a family of five and save any great amount.  Their present bank fund is gradually dwindling, but the family is not in debt.</p><p>Previous to her marriage and for a few years after, the mother was a successful piano teacher.  She gave this up <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110240">240</controlpgno><printpgno>189</printpgno></pageinfo>because of her home,&mdash;desiring to give all her time to her family.  When her husband lost his work, she considered taking pupils again but had lost confidence, fearing that her deafness, which had grown worse with each year, would handicap her.  However, a year ago, knowing her anxiety an needing a leader for its Music Club, the settlement asked her to undertake this work.  At first she hesitated, but finally was persuaded to try it.  She has made good.  The settlement pays her $2 for each meeting of the club, which is held once a week.  A class of ten little girls has also started at the settlement and as their teacher, she earns $2.</p><p>Because the city needed the land on which their house stood, they were obliged to sell it.  They moved into a good tenement, and, thus far, have been able to pay the rent.</p><p>Mr. Bartle is deeply concerned over their situation and tries in every way he knows to secure employment.</p><p>The wife is very anxious and in rather a nervous state, but is thankful to do what little she can with her music.  She says that unless there is work for her husband before long, she will try for stead employment and will even go into the mill if necessary.  The children are wonderfully sympathetic and insist that no matter what happens, &ldquo;Mother cannot go to work.&rdquo;</p><p>In the home there is delightful harmony land co&ouml;peration.</p><p>The oldest child has an unusually sweet and promising voice and had commenced to study.  Because of unemployment of the father, the lessons have been discontinued.</p><p>The oldest boy is taking violin lessons, but his mother says she fears that these, too, will have to be stopped and she cannot have the youngest boy begin lessons until conditions are different.</p><p>Of course, unless the father or mother or both secure work, the bank savings cannot last long and this will mean an entire change in plans which the parents have had for their children.</p></div><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110241">241</controlpgno><printpgno>190</printpgno></pageinfo><div><head>CASE 74<hsep>Hull House<lb>BARNES<hsep>Chicago, Ill.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 52)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Cigar-Maker<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression, mechanization, competition</hi></hi></p><p>Mr. Barnes is a man of 52 years, white-haired, with a ruddy complexion, a very pleasant expression and could easily pass for 45. He was born in Pennsylvania, and received a common school education and speaks unusually good English.</p><p>According to his story, after the death of his parents, he learned the cigar-making trade and followed it for the better part of twenty years.  During the last decade, he was in business for himself in Davenport, Iowa, and later in St. Louis, Missouri, employing several men and doing his own selling.  In the depression preceding the war he went on the rocks and lost his business.</p><p>During the war he worked in certain commissary camps and has worked in them ever since.  This is seasonal and he has had little to do in the wintertime.  He has tried to follow his old trade, but cigar-making has been revolutionized in the last two decades from common hand-work to machinery and has been almost monopolized by large combines.  For example, he says, a good hand worker would average 250 cigars a day at steady work.  One plant down in Tampa, Florida, today employ 600 people, 300 of whom are girls tending machines which easily turn out 300,00 cigars daily.  The sale of cigars is also much more precarious than it was, because of the multiplicity of chain stores and the higher average quality of cigars produced by the large manufacturers.  Mr. Barnes is therefore without a job and has been reduced to penury through lack of being able to change from one employment to another more remunerative.  He does not lack in energy or persistence but has found it very difficult <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110242">242</controlpgno><printpgno>191</printpgno></pageinfo>to get any employment, especially during this last winter, and he is literally on his &ldquo;shoe uppers.&rdquo;</p><p>At present Mr. Barnes has obtained work as an interview man for a large publishing house.</p></div><div><head>CASE 75<hsep>Rose Hudson Community Center<lb>HORTON<hsep>Louisville, Ky.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">3 boys; 2 girls</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Tinner<lb>Older Boys: Clothing Factory Workers;<lb>Younger Boy:  Tinner&apos;s Helper<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>The Hortons have two grown sons, two girls, and a younger boy.  The older boys left school to work as soon as they had furnished grammar school, and the younger one acted as his father&apos;s helper.</p><p>The general business depression seems to have affected the employment of all the workers in the family.</p><p>&ldquo;People don&apos;t have money to have work done,&rdquo; declared Mrs. Horton, the wife of the tinner who had seemed to thrive so well in our community for the past nine years.  She had been asked why it seemed her husband had not been able to get contracts the past two years.  &ldquo;My boys, who worked in the clothing factory ever since they finished school, have been laid off now for weeks.  They can&apos;t get any work except an occasional job posting bills and such.&rdquo;</p><p>Several years ago the Hortons decided to mortgage their little home in order to buy a more pretentious one on a better street.  They were sure they could rent out part of the large house, but they were unable to do so.  Then Mr. Horton, who worked on his own contracts with his younger son to help him, had great difficulty in securing &ldquo;jobs.&rdquo;  People for whom he had done work could not pay him.  At the the same time the two older boys were laid off at the <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110243">243</controlpgno><printpgno>192</printpgno></pageinfo>clothing company; the factory was closing because of slackness.  The Hortons had always had plenty.  They were liberal spenders for the luxuries of life.  They could always be counted on as the best contributors to the entertainments given at the settlement.  Gradually the settlement saw less of them.  Then one day the worker frankly asked Mrs. Horton for her story and hesitatingly she told it.  The family had not applied for aid of any kind, though a sister had contributed a little to their budget, which was accepted with reluctance.  They also had not run any bills.  Rather, they often lived on short rations.  All but one of the insurance policies had lapsed.  Payments were long past due on the house and mortgage.</p><p>The Hortons do not complain.  They are discouraged at present but also optimistic about the work they are sure will come in the spring.  From the privations they have suffered the past few months, Mrs. Horton admits she has learned a lesson: if hard times strike them again, there will be a savings account to tide them over!  In many ways, this experience will mean starting over for the Hortons!</p></div><div><head>CASE 76<hsep>University House<lb>HARKIN<hsep>Philadelphia, Pa.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Irish parentage) (B. 40; J. 36)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Bennie:  Laborer in Glass Factory,<lb>Drill Press Operator<lb>Jory:  Laborer in Worsted Mill.<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression, mechanization, factory reorganization</hi></hi></p><p>&ldquo;Them two boys never gave this neighborhood five minutes&rsquo; trouble.&rdquo;  The two boys in question, aged 36 and 40, live around the corner from the settlement in a rickety little four-room house where their queer old mother keeps house for them.  Bennie, the older, is a humpback, and a friendly, cheerful little man.  He started work in a glass house where <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110244">244</controlpgno><printpgno>193</printpgno></pageinfo>he &ldquo;carried in&rdquo; for $15 a week for seven years.  When this place closed down, it took him only a week to find another job in a glass factory.  That, however, lasted only six months before it closed, too.  Bennie took himself out of town where he found another job over the week-end in a motor car manufacturing plant.  Here he stayed tending the same drill press for ten years at $18 a week.  The last two years, there were changes in machinery and work was slack, but still Bennie was kept on.  Finally there was a complete reorganization and the boss had to tell Bennie to go.  Bennie said that the boss almost cried and said, &ldquo;I&apos;d almost see myself be laid off rather than you.&rdquo; &ldquo;That,&rdquo; Bennie continued, &ldquo;was last winter and I was off six months.  Then the boss sent for me last summer.  I worked seven weeks and then the factory slackened up again and now it&apos;s been eight months since I ain&apos;t workin&apos;.&rdquo;</p><p>His sister, who has supported a family of six children by scrubbing, and whom the brothers have helped through the years, says:  &ldquo;It wouldn&apos;t be so bad if they weren&apos;t such worrisome people, but Joseph never shuts his mouth about getting a job, and Bennie says he talks in his sleep about it.  You see it&apos;s because they were such steady workers that they worry so.  I never knew them to be discharged out of a place.  It always closed down.  Joseph was brought up in a home and the last two years he was at the home he worked in a brush factory for $3.50 a week.  They saved his money for him and when he came out he had two or three hundred dollars, so he made a home for my mother.  He was 18 years old then.  He got himself a job at a worsted mill at $16.40 a week and he worked for twelve years at the same mill, taking care of the same machinery at the same money until the last two years, when he got a raise to $18.75.  He worked at that place till it closed down.  It took him two months to get in another worsted mill, but he worked at this next one for four years till that closed down.  He got $20 there.  Then he was eighteen months out of work, as you know, and I thought he&apos;d go insane, always runnin&rsquo; <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110245">245</controlpgno><printpgno>194</printpgno></pageinfo>the feet off him lookin&apos;.  He took his money out of a building and loan, and what with connivin&rsquo; and not eatin&rsquo; very much, it managed to last him over till he got to work again.  Of course, he couldn&apos;t help me or Mamie&apos;s family, but when they had it, them two boys certainly always gave it to us.  And with all that Joseph never let a week go over his head without puttin&rsquo; away $2.  Thank God he&apos;s workin&rsquo; now, and he got this through our studyin&rsquo; the papers.  We seen the ad about a mill out in the country wantin&rsquo; night work, and he run right out there and as luck would have it, he got the job.  I said the other day, &ldquo;Say, Joe, you&apos;d oughta buy yourself a suit.  You look awful.&rsquo;  He says, &lsquo;Oh, this&apos;ll do me a good spell yet, but I guess I&apos;d better get Bennie one between this and Easter.&rsquo;  Bennie always did like to look neat and respectable.</p><p>&ldquo;Yes, them boys never gave this neighborhood five minutes trouble.&rdquo;</p></div><div><head>CASE 77<hsep>Hull House<lb>JIMMIE CAPASSO<hsep>Chicago, Ill.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Ital. parentage)<lb>15 yrs. old</hi></hi></p><p>&ldquo;What the teacher say, Jimmie, when she talk to you?&rdquo;</p><p>Jimmie Capasso blushed, and in response to his father&apos;s question shrugged his shoulders and mumbled, &ldquo;Oh, nothing.&rdquo;</p><p>His brother, Louis, 11 years of age, in whose eyes Jimmie was some important fellow, piped up, &ldquo;The teacher said that Jimmie was a bright boy and he ought to go on to high school.&rdquo;</p><p>A smile which threatened to spread over Mr. Capasso&apos;s face at the beginning of this speech changed to a frown.  The mother bending over the stove looked up with interest, and at her request, her husband repeated in Italian what the <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110246">246</controlpgno><printpgno>195</printpgno></pageinfo>teacher had said.  Her dark eyes, usually sad, sparkled now as she went over to Jimmie, who turned away self-consciously, and patted his shoulder, saying in broken English, &ldquo;You good boy.&rdquo;  She was a thin, wistful little woman who, before the age of thirty, was the mother of seven children.  The task of keeping this large family going on the meagre wages earned by her laborer husband had kept her in the house most of her life, so though living in America for sixteen years, she spoke very little English.  Jimmie, quite conscious of her foreign appearance&mdash;she wore a dark shawl over her head instead of a hat&mdash;had nevertheless insisted that she attend his graduating exercises.  He had rushed up to her at the close, and shown her his name on the diploma.</p><p>Mr. Capasso, like most Italian men, enjoyed a glass of wine with his meals.  Of late years, he could only afford it or rare occasions.  There was wine tonight,&mdash;a large glass pitcher full on the table.  The spaghetti was also a special treat.  Their usual fare was bread and beans, but to-night they not only had spaghetti, but also a meat and tomato sauce, and grated cheese to go with it.  The children crowded eagerly around the small table and using their hands as much as they did their forks, ceaselessly pushed the spicy food into their mouths.</p><p>&ldquo;I wish Jimmie could graduate every day,&rdquo; sputtered Antoinette, her mouth full of uncurling spaghetti.</p><p>&ldquo;Graduatin&rsquo; don&apos;t get him nothin&rsquo;,&mdash;he got to get a job first,&rdquo; replied Ralph, a bit jealous of the attention being shown his older brother.  &ldquo;And he don&apos;t want to work, neither,&rdquo; he added.  &ldquo;I bet when I get through that darned old school you don&apos;t ketch me goin&rsquo; on to high school!&rdquo;</p><p>The father, whose face was flushed from the wine, wiped the tomato sauce from his mouth with the back of his hairy hand and said, &ldquo;That&apos;s a good boy, Ralph.  When you get through school, we have plenty money, macaroni every day, and a barrel of wine in the cellar.&rdquo;</p><p>Tears welled up in Jimmie&apos;s eyes as he listened to the conversation.  He was the one in whose honor this celebration <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110247">247</controlpgno><printpgno>196</printpgno></pageinfo>was being given and he was at least happy of them all.  In the artificial atmosphere of the school he had dared dream of going on to high school.  That was past.  Now he was up against stern reality.  He couldn&apos;t express his feelings, but he felt somehow as though the red wine in the pitcher that his father alone was drinking so noisly was symbolic of sacrifice.  He was sure that his father was counting on the money he would get from his first job to pay for the wine.</p><p>...&rdquo;What&apos;s the matter you, Jimmie, you want to go to school?  Sixteen years I work pick and shovel, t&apos;ree dollar a day.  Who goin&rsquo; to buy clothes for the children?  You big now, you fifteen.  What&apos;s the matter you want more school?  No more school; you get him job.&rdquo;  The wine of the night before had not sweetened Mr. Capasso&apos;s disposition.  Jimmie dipped the coarse chunks of bread into the partly sweetened coffee which was his breakfast, and received his father&apos;s ultimatum in silence.  Getting up from the table, he stepped into the cold of a February morning and trudged listlessly to look for his first job.</p><p>Always shy and retiring, preferring reading to the conflict of mixing with other boys, Jimmie was not a good prospect for a job.  Add to this his feeling of resentment at not being allowed to go to high school and you almost eliminate the possibility of his getting work.  If his bashfulness and resentment were not sufficient to keep him idle, then the fact that this was commencement week, and thousands of boys all over Chicago were eagerly searching for work. would do so.</p><p>There were a dozen boys in the waiting room at the first place he went to&mdash;a candy factory on Harrison Street&mdash;most of them bragging about the jobs they had had and quite sure of themselves.  Jimmie sat in the corner of the room feeling very much out of place.  After an hour&apos;s waiting a man came out and said, &ldquo;Not bring any boys this morning.&rdquo;  On Van Buren Street he saw a card, &ldquo;Boy Wanted,&rdquo; hanging in a window.  He quietly opened the door and faced a girl in a green smock sitting behind a telephone switchboard.  &ldquo;What <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110248">248</controlpgno><printpgno>197</printpgno></pageinfo>do you want?&rdquo; she asked, pulling out two of the plugs, which clattered to their place among the others in front of her.</p><p>Jimmie hesitated, started to speak, but had to clear his throat before a sound came.  &ldquo;Do you want a boy?&rdquo; he asked in a whisper.</p><p>&ldquo;How old are you?&rdquo; questioned the girl.</p><p>&ldquo;Fift..., sixteen,&rdquo; stammered Jimmie in reply.</p><p>The girl pushed a switch and spoke into the mouthpiece hanging before her.  &ldquo;Mr. Mills, here&apos;s a little Italian kid applying for the job.  ... Yes, sir, just a minute,&rdquo; and turning to Jimmie, &ldquo;Where do you live?&rdquo;</p><p>&ldquo;Bunker Street, 558, in the back.&rdquo;</p><p>This answer was relayed by the girl into the telephone, and in reply to a question by Mr. Mills, which Jimmie did not hear,&mdash;she said, &ldquo;No, sir, I don&apos;t think he is.&rdquo;  Turning to Jimmie, she said, &ldquo;The boss says you are too young.&rdquo;</p><p>Putting his cap on, Jimmie apologetically passed out of the door.</p><p>It was nearly noon when he slunk up the alley, like one who has committed a crime, and slipped into the smelly shelter of his poor home.  The four older children were at school, and his mother, taking little Angelo with her, had gone to a neighbor&apos;s to tell about Jimmie&apos;s graduation, and to get warm.  Jimmie was at home alone.  He lay face down on a bed, tired, disappointed and discouraged.  The thing he had looked forward to for years was not to be his.  All but two of his graduating class had gone on to high school, and he, brightest of the boys, couldn&apos;t go.</p><p>Walking over to the cupboard he took from a shelf the picture of his graduating class.  He had &ldquo;come good&rdquo; in that picture, his high forehead, eyes far apart, and his hair carefully parted in the middle.  His blue serge suit had cost $11 and was the best suit he ever wore.  Returning the picture he found one of his sister, Pasqualena, who had died two years before.  Vividly he remembered how still and white she looked lying in her casket by the kitchen window.  There were flowers in the room and two tall candles burning, and <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110249">249</controlpgno><printpgno>198</printpgno></pageinfo>everyone from the street had come in to see her.  As he put the picture back he saw his father&apos;s revolver.  Taking it down, he handled it nervously.  Stories of hold-ups came to him,&mdash;that boy they called &ldquo;Casey,&rdquo; who had held up the man on the North Side an got away with it.  He had tied a cloth over his face so the man couldn&apos;t tell who he was.  Taking one of the cloths from the line drying over the stove, Jimmie tied it about his face and went through the antics of a hold-up man.  He looked in the piece of broken glass over the sink and was surprised to see the change the mask made in his appearance.  &ldquo;Sick &lsquo;em up!&rdquo; he whispered, brandishing the gun.  &ldquo;Hand over that wad!  ... That&apos;s the way to get the bucks.  Gee, if I only had the guts to hold up some guy, I could tell them I found it, and then I could go to high school.  Stick &lsquo;em up!&rdquo;  he commanded, this time feeling a bit more confident.  Crash went the gun!  The explosion in the small closed room was deafening.  The revolver fell clattering to the floor.  The bold hold-up man of a minute before was now a trembling and much-frightened boy.  Tearing the cloth from his face, he opened the cellar door and flung the gun down into the darkness, and later hid it.</p><p>Jimmie&apos;s attempts top get work were fruitless.  He would start out every morning, go to one or two places asking for work, then sneak back to his home, and in a warm corner behind the stove, step out of the world of reality through the portals of a story-book.  He had gone three times to the candy factory on Harrison Street, and felt that it was useless going there again.  One of the boys suggested trying the Loop stores.  The first one he went to got him all excited.  They gave him an application blank to fill out and he was sure he had a job at last.  He wrote his name and address, then spent the better part of an hour succeeded in answering only a few of the questions asked.  As he handed it to the girl at the window, she said without looking up, &ldquo;We&apos;ll notify you when we need you.&rdquo;  At the next store, he was given <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110250">250</controlpgno><printpgno>199</printpgno></pageinfo>another blank and had to go through the same routine all over again.  He realized then that filling out an application blank didn&apos;t always mean a job.  It was often just a convenient way of saying, &ldquo;We don&apos;t want you.&rdquo;</p><p>As the days passed and he found no work his father became more severe.  Jimmie looked forward with dread to his parent&apos;s return from work each evening.  His mother would warm him at the approach, and he would drop the book he was reading and slip out a side door.  One day, Mr. Capasso came home earlier than usual and caught Jimmie reading.  He was convinced by this time that his son was lazy and that he didn&apos;t want to work.  &ldquo;What&apos;s the matter you, Jimmie?&rdquo;  he raved.  &ldquo;Your mother all the time cry.  Antoinette no got shoes.  You eat, sleep, no can find work.  All the time read book.  You good-for-nothin&rsquo; bum.&rdquo;  Silently Jimmie took the rebuke.  His father had called him a bum.  That night he slept little.  He was conscious of every toss and groan of his two brothers sleeping in the bed with him.  He resolved to get in the morning or not to come back home.</p><p>He heard his mother start the fire.  It was dark when he got out of bed and put his shoes on&mdash;he had slept in his clothes.  He left the house before his father was awake.  The temperature was down near zero and a strong wind was sweeping in from the lake.  Jimmie got as far as Canal Street.  His determination to get a job began to waver.  He knew he couldn&apos;t face those employers again and ask for work.  And he was cold.  He&apos;d go back and get warm and start out a little later.  As he approached the house he saw his father dimly through the ice-coated windows of the kitchen.  He hadn&apos;t the courage to go in and face him.  A gust of wind searched for him and found him shivering in the alley.  He stumble down the steps into the dark cellar out of the biting cold.</p><p>He couldn&apos;t get a job and he didn&apos;t even have the &ldquo;guts&rdquo; to be bandit.  God, if he could only have gone to high <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110251">251</controlpgno><printpgno>200</printpgno></pageinfo>school!  In a corner he found the gun where he had hidden it under some old boards.  As he picked it up, the door leading to the kitchen opened and his mother came down the stairs.  He crouched, hardly daring to breathe.  He could hear his father cursing in Italian because he didn&apos;t get a job.  His mother returned to the kitchen with an armful of wood and closed the door.</p><p>The boys had said that a bullet in the heart just took you off like nothing.  You never felt it.  What was the use of living?  He could picture himself lying in a casket near the kitchen window with flowers and candles and all the people from the street coming in to look at him.  His father would be sorry, then, that the wouldn&apos;t let him go to high school.  And he wouldn&apos;t have to look for a job. Placing the muzzle of the gun against the place on his sweater where he could feel his heart beating, he pulled the trigger.  There was a jarring sound which seemed a long way off.  His side felt numb.  He threw the gun from him and the effort sent a stinging pain through his chest.  It felt as though someone was holding a red-hot poker against his bare flesh.  The pain increased with every breath.  He crawled on his hands and knees carefully up the stone steps and out into the cold air.  His head was dizzy and things seemed blurred.  He must get a job or his father would hit him now.  If the pain would only give him a break.  He rested for a minute, in the narrow passage between the two buildings, and then with a burst of courage started down Bunker Street toward the Loop for the second time that morning.</p><p>A trolley passed as he neared Canal Street.  It seemed to be floating in air.  Dimly he saw the outline of the clock tower on the freight station. He tried to tell the time, but the spots of light which took the place of figures danced before his straining eyes.  He reached out and held on to a lamp post.  &ldquo;If I could only get a job,&rdquo; he sobbed, and slid down on the cold pavement, unconscious.</p><p>At the County Hospital, the doctor who extracted the <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110252">252</controlpgno><printpgno>201</printpgno></pageinfo>bullet said that Jimmie had a good chance to recover.  But Jimmie didn&apos;t want to get well.  Recovery for him meant looking for a job which he couldn&apos;t find.  He lay there listless, not caring.  There was a scene when his parents came in to see him.  &ldquo;You Jimmie, why you kill yourself?&rdquo; reproached his father.  &ldquo;Everything I do for you.  Today I no work, I lose t&apos;ree dollars.&rdquo;  His mother wrung her hands and moaned.  Going over to Jimmie, she kissed him and kept repeating in Italian, &ldquo;My big boy, why you kill yourself?&rdquo;  The nurse, fearing the effects of the excitement, ushered them out.</p><p>The papers, ever alert for the spectacular, wrote up the shooting.  &ldquo;Boy Fifteen Can&apos;t Get Job; Shoots Self.&rdquo;  Every day for weeks Jimmie had fought against odds.  That battle was not mentioned.  They had written up his defeat.  The nurse showed Jimmie the newspaper clipping.  Above the write-up, was his picture taken from the graduation group.  His class ribbons hung from the lapel of his coat, and in his right hand was the rolled diploma.  He was glad he had on the blue serge suit.  He never could figure out where his mother had gotten the money for it.  The smiled feebly as he read his name in print, and turned his face to the wall to hide the tears.</p><p>A year later the father showed me Jimmie&apos;s picture, and while the tears streamed down his face told me of the bad luck that was following his family.  &ldquo;All the time I work pick and shovel, got no one to help me.  My girl, fifteen, she die, sick a de chest.  Jimmie, fifteen, he die.  Other man he fill his belly with chicken; every day me fill belly with bread and beans.  No chicken, no spaghetti, no wine.  Mother she all time cry.  Children no got shoes, no clothes, sometimes go to bed hungry.  Who going to help me?  Next boy, Ralph, he still too young.  Wait &lsquo;nother year before he get through school and go get job.&rdquo;</p></div><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110253">253</controlpgno><printpgno>202</printpgno></pageinfo><div><head>CASE 78<hsep>St. Martha&apos;s House<lb>BRILLO<hsep>Philadelphia, Pa.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Ital.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 32, W. 25)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">7, 5, 3, 1</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Cabinet-Maker<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression, seasonal slackness</hi></hi></p><p>In nearly every way, the Brillos seem to be above the average for the type of Italian family in their neighborhood.  There is an air of refinement and courtesy about them that is unusual for a family in their position.  We have known them at our settlement for about two years,&mdash;ever since the second daughter started in our kindergarten and the mother began attending our Italian Mothers&rsquo; Club.</p><p>Rose Brillo was born in this country and went to the 4th B in school.  As she was one of a large family, she had to go to work at 13 in a silk mill, where she earned from $9 to $11 a week.  When she was 16, she stopped work and married Salvatore, who had come to the United States when 13 years old.  After attending school here for one year, he, too, went to work.</p><p>Although the Brillos have had a great deal of sickness in the past five years, and unemployment has struck them often, they have maintained a happy, comfortable home for their four attractive daughters.  They are very anxious that these girls receive a good education, and go through high school at least.  Their kindergarten and club work shows that they have initiative and good judgment, coupled with an eagerness for learning and self-expression.  The parents encourage them to take advantage of the opportunities offered by the settlement clubs, as well as to appreciate the free dental and dispensary service which they have secured from the clinics.</p><p>By trade, Brillo is a cabinet-maker.  For the past three or four years, particularly the past year, he has been unable <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110254">254</controlpgno><printpgno>203</printpgno></pageinfo>to get steady work.  Regular wages for his trade are 87&half; cents an hour, and $1.25 an hour for outside carpenter work.  He began work in a chair factory.  Since then, he has worked for a victrola and piano manufacturing company, and for a construction company as foreman for five years.  He travelled for the latter company, putting up sound proofs booths (such as in victrola departments of stores), office partitions, etc.  When this concern went bankrupt, he worked intermittently with a trolley company for six months, a woodworking company for a year, and a manufacturing company for seven months.  His lay-offs were always due to the lack of work.  A year ago, Salvatore was given a contract for carpenter work on a house in a Philadelphia suburb, which took fourteen weeks.  His wages averaged $36 a week, after paying the workman whom he hired to assist him.  Since November, practically no work has been secured, and the standard of the family living has been lowered.</p><p>Brillo stated that a great deal of the mill work is being shipped &ldquo;ready to place&rdquo; from the Middle West, and is sold more cheaply that way.  Consequently this eliminates many jobs, such as window and door casings, doors, etc., that a cabinet-maker or carpenter formerly had to do.</p><p>When Rose and Salvatore began buying their home six years ago, they had saved $300 and borrowed $200 to pay the down payment.  Then they placed a $1,300 mortgage on the property, which was to cost them $2,000.  Two years later, they took out $600 in building and loan stock in order to repay their $200 loan and $350 to pay a doctor for the sickness of their first baby.  Two years ago, however, they had to borrow $300 on a judgment note in order to &ldquo;keep going.&rdquo;  At present they are in debt for groceries, milk and coal, and so far have been unable to pay off any of the mortgage.</p><p>A small amount of relief has been received in the form of a few clothes and a ton of coal from the settlement.</p><p>Even though Rose Brillo knows what her growing children should have to eat, it cannot be gotten because of lack of funds.  The amount of milk needed has been cut down, <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110255">255</controlpgno><printpgno>204</printpgno></pageinfo>as well as other food.  A nurse visiting the home in the interest of the Metropolitan Life Insurance Company reported that Mary was thin, pale and undernourished because of the lack of sufficient food.  The winter, during the father&apos;s unemployment, the baby had whooping cough and pneumonia, and a doctor and visiting nurse were there everyday.  During this siege, Mrs. Brillo grew very thin and worried.  Two years ago, Rose&apos;s weak heart forced her to remain in bed for two months, and at a convalescent home for four weeks.  Worry over the family&apos;s debts, while carrying her last baby; brought on another heart spell and Rose had to go to bed again for some time.</p><p>The parents&rsquo; chief interest is centered in their home and children, and so far the happy home atmosphere remains intact, although Rose Brillo is beginning to show signs of the strain.  She is becoming pessimistic in the face of her worries and discouragements.  Her husband is still optimistic and although he says he cannot see <hi rend="italics">why</hi> he is unable to find work, he feels that things will straighten out before too long.  Occasionally he jokes about being hard up, and in the course of a conversation with a social worker, said, &ldquo;Why, my wife and I haven&apos;t been to a movie for two years!&rdquo;  Salvatore Brillo is a man of good habits,&mdash;does not drink,&mdash;and only indulges in a pipe after supper.  He is now hoping against hope to own a little farm where he will be able to make a decent living.</p></div><div><head>CASE 79<hsep>Ellis Memorial<lb>LEIGHTNUM<hsep>Boston, Mass.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Ger. parentage) (W. 34)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Looper in Stocking Factory<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">market changes, oversupply of labor</hi></hi></p><p>Lena Leightnum, who supports her father and mother, has been a looper in a stocking factory for sixteen years. <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110256">256</controlpgno><printpgno>205</printpgno></pageinfo>About four years ago, Lena&apos;s work began to get dull.  She had part-time work with much reduced wages, and occasionally other temporary employment.  Formerly a full week&apos;s wages would have amounted to $35; now $24 is a maximum a girl on piece-work can make even when working full time.</p><p>This situation has depleted the family&apos;s small savings,&mdash;even to the selling of their prized liberty bond.  In order to reduce expenses, the family moved into less expensive quarters.  While physically unfit to do so, Lena&apos;s mother now has to work to supplement their income.  An occasional gift through the settlement has also helped at time.</p><p>The strain of trying to make ends meet and of knowing that her mother was not well has been terrible for Lena, and last summer Lena had quite a time with boils.  The doctor thought they were due to her worn-out nerves and poor physical condition, for she had not been able to take a vacation because of lack of funds.</p><p>Although she has tried to face the situation with courage, Lena is thoroughly discouraged.  She is waiting for an opportunity to get work in a nearly town in a similar factory which pays higher wages.  She says she would rather commit suicide than go again through her experiences at the factory, but at the same time, she feels almost afraid to try anything else.</p><p>An unfortunate effect has also resulted for the mother, who has become rather hardened in her attitude toward friends who started out as she did, but who have been more fortunate about getting ahead.  They are laboring under the strain of anxiety but so far have not asked for aid.</p><p>The mother and Lena have become bitter in their attitude toward the father.  They remember his early days of drinking which have made him an invalid so that now he is a care to them.</p></div><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110257">257</controlpgno><printpgno>206</printpgno></pageinfo><div><head>CASE 80<hsep>Family Welfare Society<lb>SMITH<hsep>Savannah, Ga.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 29; W. 28)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">9, 6, 4, 1</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Grocer&apos;s Clerk<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>After eleven years with one firm as a grocer&apos;s clerk, James Smith was making $30 a week, and he and Mary had established a comfortable little home, and were raising their family of four girls.  Even though James himself had only completed the 8th grade, he and Mary had great ambitions for their own children.  If at all possible, they should have more than a high school education.  Julia, the oldest daughter, was to be given dancing lessons, and as the talents of the other children appeared, they were planning to develop them.</p><p>When we first knew the Smiths, they lived in a neat and clean five-room apartment, with attractive curtains and draperies and nice rugs.  The furniture was inexpensive, but suited their needs, and everything gave a feeling of comfort.</p><p>The general business depression affected the grocery business, and during the summer season, Smith was taken out of the store and placed on the road to sell.  His expenses amounted to more than the orders he secured, so the company abolished this position.</p><p>While James was out of work from May until September, 1927, Mary worked in a cigar factory.  Then James secured temporary work with the A. &amp; P.  Store which lasted until April, 1928.  Since then, he has only been able to find temporary and irregular work as a carpenter&apos;s helper, at $2.80 a day.</p><p>Having no savings, the Smiths went into debt by taking a loan on their furniture.  They were behind with the rent; they cashed in one insurance policy to keep up others, and <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110258">258</controlpgno><printpgno>207</printpgno></pageinfo>later Mary pawned her ring and sold one bedstead to keep up the insurance.</p><p>It was finally necessary to move into smaller quarters, and they found a smaller and less attractive flat of three rooms.</p><p>The Family Welfare Society stepped in and supplied food and clothing, and medical aid was given through the Savannah Health Center&apos;s Clinic.  This has prevented the family from suffering from undernourishment.</p><p>With all the children so young, Mary did not feel that she could leave them to go out to work, even though she did do this for several months to help tide them over their first crisis.</p><p>James is very much concerned over their present condition, and is trying hard to be courageous.  Mary seems to have move initiative than her husband, and he leaves the bills and other obligations for her to handle.  Mary tells us that he has lost considerable weight from worry.  She also says that James&rsquo; inability to secure steady employment has been a great blow to them both, since they are afraid that it will prevent them from carrying out their plans for their children&apos;s education and welfare.</p></div><div><head>CASE 81<hsep>Neighborhood House<lb>ROSARIO<hsep>Madison, Wis.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Ital.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 43, W. 42)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">18, 17, 15, 14, 12, 8, 6, 4, 1</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Fruit-Peddler<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">seasonal factor; inability to pay for new<lb>license.</hi></hi></p><p>With their family of nine children, it has recently been quite a struggle for Ben and Maria Rosario to make ends meet.  Ben&apos;s earnings, after twenty-five years of experience at fruit-peddling, have usually been sufficient,&mdash;for in summer he averaged $50 a week, and in winter, about $20.  Of course, no savings were possible, but the family was well provided for otherwise.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110259">259</controlpgno><printpgno>208</printpgno></pageinfo><p>This winter, however, they have suffered tremendously.  Because of illness, Ben was unable to renew his peddler&apos;s license, and this meant that there was no income at all to support the family.  Carsella, 18 years old, found two weeks&rsquo; employment caring for five small children,  at $3.50 a week.  Her 17-year-old brother, Mike, reluctantly left school to work, and was laid off after his second week as a tobacco stripper because of lack of work.  His contribution only amounted to a little over $11.</p><p>Even though the Rosarios are proud and loath to admit their difficulties, Ben reluctantly applied to the Country Relief for money to  renew his license, which would have enabled him to support his family.  Being refused, he had to take a laborer&apos;s job, and then sell his horse and wagon to help with the bills.  Even laborers&rsquo; jobs finally became scare, and from October to January 15th, he was without any work.  It was then that the County Relief agreed to forward him $26 on an unexpired license for peddling.</p><p>In the meantime,  debts piled up, amounting to over $300, including rent, doctor bill, horse, etc.</p><p>It had been absolutely necessary to depend on the County Board for groceries, clothing, and fuel,&mdash;and these were very inadequate.  Many days, the children were forced to remain out of school because of lack of shoes.  The School Child Guidance Department states that &ldquo;the whole family has been out of school for days because of insufficient clothing or colds due to insufficient food and clothing, and that three of the boys are discipline problems due to the effect at home, irregular school attendance, and restlessness, probably due to undernourishment.&rdquo;</p><p>Maria is courageous, and has tried to help by doing odd jobs of sewing and washing.  She says, &ldquo;I would like my children to have, things, to stay in school, but too much money is needed.&rdquo;</p><p>Mr. Rosario&apos;s attitude is one of hopelessness,&mdash;for he has tried every place possible to secure a job.  He is still too proud to beg.  He said, &ldquo;It is hard to ask for help when one <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110260">260</controlpgno><printpgno>209</printpgno></pageinfo>needs everything,&mdash;I feel ashamed.&rdquo;  When he has had the opportunity to receive help he is so embarrassed that he really does not receive what he should because of his &ldquo;shame&rdquo; in asking.  He is most distressed because he cannot pay his bills and has to go in debt and see his family do without things it needs.  He has, however, faced his trouble with a determination to win.  If there has been any change in self-respect, it has been increased rather than lessened.</p><p>Ben is still the &ldquo;head of the house,&rdquo; though his ideas have become more &ldquo;American.&rdquo;  He has allowed the children more privileges than formerly.  The necessity for having Carsella, the older girl, go to work has hurt him tremendously.  While he was out of town looking for work, the oldest boy become quite a problem.  He was brought before the court and sentenced to the Industrial School for Boys.  Through the influence of the settlement and others, the sentence was suspended.  The father felt this blow keenly.  He tells his children,&mdash;&ldquo;I&apos;m a poor man; we are poor; but my name is good and I am trusted.  I depend on you to keep it good.&rdquo;</p><p>The children have no recreation other than that given at the settlement, where they gladly work to pay their club dues.  The father says it is difficult to plan for the future, for &ldquo;as soon as I think I might pay a bit on a back bill, someone gets sick.&rdquo;</p></div><div><head>CASE 82<hsep>Greenwich House<lb>WARNER<hsep>New York City, N.Y.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Austr. parentage) (M.) (Ital.<lb>parentage) (W)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">6 ranging from 2 to 14 yrs.</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Stream-Fetter<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">seasonal slackness</hi></hi></p><p>The eight members of the Warner family live in three rooms on the top floor of an old tenement on the lower west <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110261">261</controlpgno><printpgno>210</printpgno></pageinfo>side of New York. The furnishings of the home are inadequate and somewhat dilapidated.  There are only two double beds and a couch for the use of eight people; cotton blankets of the poorest quality supplemented in winter by coats and other garments serve as covering.  Mrs. Warner makes sporadic efforts, when she is able, to keep her home clean and in order; the general air of confusion is such as one expects when a large family of children occupy cramped quarters.  The children are neatly and warmly dressed; but they posses only scattered pieces of warm underclothing, and Mrs. Warner displays with satisfaction the worn-out sweaters which are doing their last bit of service as undershirts.  She is genuinely concerned for her children&apos;s health, conscientiously taking them to clinics, following instructions given there as well as she is able, and trying to manage a wholesome diet on her slender means.</p><p>The story of the Warners&rsquo; married life is one of continued financial insecurity, complicated more and more by the increasing demands of a growing family and by illness usually traceable to poverty.  At first Mr. Warner was a checker, but he took advantage of a period of enforced idleness during a strike to learn the steam-fitting trade, in which a good wage (a helper receives $8 a day) sufficient to support the family, if steady, is offset by long periods of seasonal unemployment.  Beginning last spring, he was out of work for eight months, having resumed work only this week on a two-weeks&rsquo; job with nothing in view beyond.  Mrs. Warner&apos;s brother gives them their rent money, and to meet their food bills, they have earned about $11 per week making lamp shades, but this necessitates steady work by every member of the family except the baby.  Even 6-year-old Vincent has learned to make the smallest shades which bring 75 cents a dozen.  They have sometimes borrowed from relatives, but have stead-fastly refused charity, except in the form of free milk, codliver oil, hospital treatment, fresh-air relief and clothing.</p><p>The Warners long ago eliminated from their budget all <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110262">262</controlpgno><printpgno>211</printpgno></pageinfo>the necessaries of life but food and shelter.  Recreation, except of the sort children create for themselves, is unknown; Mrs. Warner has not even time to air the baby, who plays all day on the draughty floor.  For clothing, they depend on chance windfalls from anywhere.  Food bills being more flexible than rent, diet has been cut down to the minimum.  Two quarts of milk are received daily from a milk station for the youngest children.  This is frequently the entire day&apos;s supply, although the mother says, &ldquo;The children are crazy for milk; they would drink glass after glass if they could get it.&rdquo;  One evening when a caller dropped in, they were having merely boiled cabbage and bread for the main meal of the day with a veal chop for the father &ldquo;because he had been at work in the Bronx and needed a little extra.&rdquo;  The mother is an excellent cook, but lacks materials with which to work.</p><p>The family is badly run down in health.  Mr. Warner is gaunt and thin.  Mrs. Warner has never recovered from not having had enough to eat during her first pregnancy when her husband was unemployed, and from the difficult birth of her first child.  She now has digestive trouble, and is on a strict diet following an attack of jaundice.  Emma, the oldest girl, is languid, undersized and less far advanced in school than her younger sister, and is subject to frequent colds and swollen glands.  The eldest son complies of severe pain, which a neighborhood physician says may be due to appendicitis, and cannot eat beans, cheese and certain other foods upon which Italians are accustomed to depend.  The 6-year-old boy has severe swollen glands which do not clear up, and a cardiac condition has recently developed.  All the children except the baby are pale and undersized.</p><p>Mrs. Warner is making a brave struggle to do her best.  She is a pleasant, friendly woman, not given to self-pity or complaint, but she admits that she is too worried to sleep and appears to be overwrought much of the time.  She frequently remarks,&mdash;&ldquo;American-born, and look at us!&rdquo;  The <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110263">263</controlpgno><printpgno>212</printpgno></pageinfo>children are well-behaved, respectful to their mother, and apparently obedient and eager to help her.  Mrs. Warner says her husband is nervous and moody when out of work, and that the children feel this and become high-strung and difficult to manage at times.</p></div><div><head>CASE 83<hsep>East Side House<lb>PASCAL<hsep>New York City, N. Y.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Fr. parentage) (M. between 30<lb>and 40);</hi>  <hi rend="smallcaps">Fr.</hi>  <hi rend="italics">(W. about 30)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">8, 4</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">M.:  Govt. Employer; Sales Manager<lb>W.:  French Governors<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb>M.:  <hi rend="italics">bankruptcy;</hi> W.:  <hi rend="italics">seasonal character of<lb>work</hi></hi></p><p>&ldquo;Winters we get along nicely, but about the first of May my employers leave town and I lose my job.  Then for six months I cannot be sure of earning a dollar, except for the work at the settlement, which pays very little.  There would be plenty of governess positions if one were free to travel or go to the country, but I must stay with the boys&mdash;that is the only way I can bring them up as I wish.&rdquo;</p><p>This, expressed in broken English, is the dilemma faced every spring by Marie Pascal.  She asks neither sympathy nor assistance, but her story is one of complete reversal of fortunes.  The only thing salvaged is her standard of how her two sons, from whom she refused to be separated, should be raised.</p><p>Marie was born in Marscilles.  In schooling she completed the equivalent of one year of college.  During the World War, she married Jules Pascal, an officer in the Intelligence Department of the American Army, and they went to live in Paris for a few months, and then in 1919, they came to the United States.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110264">264</controlpgno><printpgno>213</printpgno></pageinfo><p>After the armistice, Jules continued as an employee of the government in the Department of Justice, where he had served before the war.  At first they travelled, but later, after the birth of a son, they were stationed in New York City, where they took a pleasant apartment near Riverside Drive.</p><p>In 1921, Jules invested all his savings in a nationally famous system of chain-stores which was at that time laying plans for opening a number of retail stores in New York.  He presently-resigned his position with the government to become sales manager of the New York office at $100 a week.  Two years later, in 1923, the company went bankrupt.  Worn with months of worry and shocked by the failure of the business, Jules suffered a complete nervous breakdown from which he has never recovered.  For five years he has been under the care of nerve specialists, and for most of that time, a semi-invalid dependent upon his wife for support.  He has made a few fruitless efforts to provide for his wife and children; he tried selling various commodities from bonds to foodstuffs, but hired on a commission basis he sometimes earned only $5 a week, never more than $25.</p><p>Forced to take the initiative, if her family was to be kept together and not allowed to starve, Marie moved them across the city into the humblest of flats.  She broke off forever from her circle of friends.  Then she came to the settlement, where she left her little boy in the day nursery while she went out to work.  Later she was given part-time work in the nursery, which pays but $6 weekly, but lasts the year round.  Although she had no training of any kind, her ability to speak French readily secured her positions as visiting governess to children for whom training in French conservation was required.  This brings from $15 to $18 a week for the six or seven months of the town season.  The summers are nightmares.  Marie does substitute work from time to time caring for the babies in the nursery.  One summer the family acted as caretakers of a house.  Once she secured <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110265">265</controlpgno><printpgno>214</printpgno></pageinfo>employment at a fresh air camp which would accept her children, too.  Before and after the birth of the second child, she stayed at home, taking in French underwear to embroider and working so hard at it that her eyes were permanently weakened.</p><p>Once when the younger boy was critically ill with pneumonia, the settlement sent in a night nurse for several nights.  Aside from this, the Pascals have accepted no assistance.  Loans have been steadfastly refused.  On one occasion when a gift of $100, given each year to the neediest neighbor of the settlement, was offered to her, she hesitated for a moment, remembering the many things her children lacked, hurried home to consult with Jules, and hastened back to say, &ldquo;I&apos;m so glad, my husband says no!&rdquo;</p><p>Marie protests that in winter, when her income is steady, they get one very well.  She, however, is thin almost to the point of emaciation, and so nervous that she cannot help crying when speaking of her affairs.  A day in her life is as follows:  At 7.30 a.m. she reports at the day nursery where her boys stay until suppertime.  She cares for the babies at the nursery till one.  Then there is a short gap for marketing and housework before going to spend the afternoon with her pupil.  At 5.30 she calls for her own children, who are taken home at once is order to be bathed, given supper and put to bed by 7 o&apos;clock.  Later, there is washing, ironing, mending to do, and sometimes evening pupils to meet.</p><p>The home, however, is still a real home.  The kitchen, the room used most of all, is clean and inviting.  In the small parlor are shelves of books, a globe map of the world, writing materials and a comfortable place to write.  But although Marie is doing her level best, she is never free from the dread of certain unemployment with the accompanying anxiety and hardship.</p></div><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110266">266</controlpgno><printpgno>215</printpgno></pageinfo><div><head>CASE 84<hsep>College Settlement<lb>BECKER<hsep>Philadelphia, Pa.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Pol. parentage) (M. 39)</hi>; <hi rend="smallcaps">Pol.<lb>Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">13, 12, 10, 9, 8, 6, 4</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Truck-Driver<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>Since December, 1927, Mr. Becker has been out of work, because of the general business depression.  Before this, he had driven a truck for a furniture company.  Being rather ambitious, he attempted to supplement this by using his own second-hand truck outside of working hours, and altogether he earned as much as $60 a week.  This, with Mrs. Becker&apos;s careful management, was sufficient to support the family of seven children and to save $2,000 toward a house.  The children were always neatly dressed&mdash;for their mother was a clever sewer.</p><p>Mr. Becker&apos;s unemployment struck hard.  The $2,000 savings were used first; then $700 was borrowed from friends and relatives.  While the Beckers have succeeded in paying the rent, three insurance policies had to be sold to pay $45 owed the grocer, so that further credit might be extended there.  The truck has been sold; the garage rent of $10 a month could not be met.</p><p>The food problem was difficult to meet, but Mrs. Becker says she bought only plain, substantial food.  Although there are seven children, only a quart of milk was all they could afford to buy.  As Mrs. Becker says, &ldquo;it&apos;s not enough but has to do.&rdquo;</p><p>While the struggle has been a hard one, both parents have faced the situation with courage, and still maintain their self-respect.  Mrs. Becker endeavors to keep the family cheered up by &ldquo;always keeping a smile&rdquo; on her face.  The home has lost nothing as yet as a place of security for children.  While the children notice a change in the table, they are still cheerful.  They enjoy the settlement and avail <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110267">267</controlpgno><printpgno>216</printpgno></pageinfo>themselves of every opportunity that comes their way.  Mrs. Becker belongs to the Women&apos;s Club, and gets as much recreation as possible.</p></div><div><head>CASE 85<hsep>Southwark Neighborhood House<lb>BORCZAK<hsep>Philadelphia, Pa.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Pol. parentage) (M. 39)</hi>; <hi rend="smallcaps">Pol.</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">(W. 35)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">12, 9, 7</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Boiler-Maker<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression following war</hi></hi></p><p>Joseph and Stella Borczak were getting along nicely with their little family of three.  Their only sorrow was for their 9-year-old daughter, Helen, who was feeble-minded.</p><p>After completing grammar school, Joseph (at 14) found employment at Baldwin&apos;s as a machinist&apos;s helper, and finally he became a boiler-maker during the war, earning $75 a week.</p><p>Being thrifty, the Borczaks managed to save enough to partly pay for their home, and then took out building and loan shares for the balance.  Furniture was purchased on the instalment plan, and a very happy home was established.  While earning good money, Joseph had great pleasure in tucking away a tidy sum each month.</p><p>With the termination of the war came the first cut in wages, but still they could meet their expenses easily.  However, after six or seven years, work began to fall off.  First the working week was cut to five days, and then to three.  Then Baldwin&apos;s closed altogether.  This threw Joseph out of employment for two years,&mdash;except for odd jobs as a stevedore, one or two days a week.  At most, he only earned $18 a week this way.  Then came a period of total unemployment for six months,&mdash;try as he would to get work.</p><p>The saving fund lasted quite some time under the thrifty <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110268">268</controlpgno><printpgno>217</printpgno></pageinfo>management of Stella, but it was entirely used up before Joseph secured any other employment.  At first Joseph did not fear that consequences of their reversals, but when the money became scarcer, he sought fiercely for work.</p><p>When Joseph was working only two days a week, they took in roomers and Stella sewed continuously in order to help meet the bills for taxes and the building and loan installments.  Then they had to sell their victrola and pawn some jewelry.  Joseph also had to sell all his engineering books, which he had been reading in connection with his evening school course.  He had always been interested in automobile mechanics and engineering, and it was a disappointment to have to give this study up, in order to devote all his efforts to finding a job.</p><p>The Borczaks were averse to accepting outside help or borrowing money, but they finally did receive some financial help from a Polish beneficial organization, which went to pay the taxes.</p><p>Stella cut down considerably on their food supply and could only give them enough to keep from starving.  The children&apos;s clothing was of the cheapest, and they often went barefooted at home to save the leather for outside wear.</p><p>Stella courageously did her share, plying her needle continuously, but she could not take care of the children, too.  They became ill from neglect, and undernourishment was quite evident in the younger children.  The youngest boy is stunted in his growth, and the development of Joseph, Jr., has also been retarded.  Stella says that the continuous sewing has weakened her eyes, and she is becoming very nervous and irritable.</p><p>Joseph, Jr., though only 12, wanted to do something to help, so he secured a job on Saturdays in a produce market.</p><p>Joseph and Stella are keenly disappointed because it looks as though their children will not be able to go to high school; instead they must go to work when old enough to leave.  Joseph, Jr., is quite talented musically, but lessons are now out of the question.  A threatened foreclosure if the <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110269">269</controlpgno><printpgno>218</printpgno></pageinfo>building and loan shares remain unpaid has now been added to their worries.</p></div><div><head>CASE 86<hsep>Neighborhood House<lb>INCORVENO<hsep>Madison, Wis.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Ital.</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">12, 8, 6, 20 mos.</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Laborer<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">seasonal slackness</hi></hi></p><p>Although Vito Incorveno is an unskilled laborer and ditch-digger, he was able to earn 50 cents an hour and $25 a week while he worked for the Fritz Building Company.  Their four moderately large rooms were tidy, and furnished with only the bare necessities.  Only one item seemed to violate the &ldquo;necessities&rdquo; classification,&mdash;a $177.50 washing machine (on which $90 was still due), but Vito justified it by stating that &ldquo;with four children there are a lot of clothes to wash and the work is too hard for my wife.&rdquo;</p><p>With the winter slackness in the building trades, Vito was laid off from December 11, 1928, until March 11, 1929, and could get no work in the meantime.</p><p>As no savings were available, debts began to accumulate rapidly.  By the end of February, 1929, the $50 of debts from the previous December had mounted to $300,&mdash;including rent, groceries, coal, a two-year-old doctor bill, and the washing machine payment.</p><p>It was not until toward the end of February, 1929, that Mrs. Incorveno was able to secure work in a tobacco factory, so that is was necessary for the Public Welfare Association to come to the rescue three times and supply the family with groceries to the amount of $23.70, and glasses for Mary, the oldest child.  Living on credit during unemployment, Mrs. Incorveno said she &ldquo;tried to manage on $1.25 a day.&rdquo;</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110270">270</controlpgno><printpgno>219</printpgno></pageinfo><p>Their health, however, has been neglected.  They cannot afford tonsillectomies for 8-year-old Nickie and 6-year-old Vito.  Vito requires special medical attention also because of the lack of muscle co&ouml;rdination in his legs.  He is thin, has a yellow complexion and bad teeth.  The others look healthy, although the baby seems to have suffered from lack of his mother&apos;s care.  Mr. Incorveno has chronic bronchitis and speaks with a very hoarse voice, so he is difficult to understand.  He has, however, refused to go to the hospital for treatment.  Mrs. Incorveno&apos;s work has been a great strain on her health.  After standing at her work all day, she comes home to make the meals, wash, iron, and clean.  She has resigned herself to the situation and considers it a part of her &ldquo;bad luck.&rdquo;</p><p>Their clothing definitely reflects the state of their financial condition.  The children are in need of shoes, stockings, and street clothes.  Mrs. Incorveno was without rubbers or galoshes this winter.</p><p>Concern for the children tends to  make the situation look hopeless and deplorable for Vito.  His debts worry him, but he says he is determined to pay them as soon as he gets the money.  His wife and step-daughter say that he is always out looking for work.  He was refused a street cleaning job by the city this winter, and he failed to find work in Chicago because he is a non-union man.  He shows less hesitancy than his wife in asking for help, and he would gladly receive it.  Nevertheless, he has applied to no one but the Public Welfare Association,&mdash;to whom he went three times before Mrs. Incorveno found work.  His attitude is characterized by disappointment and a slight display of bitterness rather than by courage.</p><p>The Incorvenos are now trying to make room for boarders, and the mother is considering giving up her job, now that her husband has secured work.</p><p>Mary regrets that she cannot attend the settlement&apos;s classes, and her mother says she herself is often &ldquo;too tired to go to the settlement programs on Sundays.&rdquo;</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110271">271</controlpgno><printpgno>220</printpgno></pageinfo><p>Apparently the home atmosphere has not been affected unfavorably.  Under their present circumstances, however, it is impossible to provide for a comfortable and independent old age.  The children, too, have learned to forgo their normal childish desires, and the feeling of uncertainty felt by their parents may soon be transferred to them.</p></div><div><head>CASE 87<hsep>Ellis Memorial<lb>FABRIZI<hsep>Boston, Mass.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Ital.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 43)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">6 ranging from 9 to 2 (baby expected)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Foundryman</hi> <hi rend="italics">(laborer)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Unemployment Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">mechanization</hi></hi></p><p>The Fabrizi family was in comfortable circumstances when the father was on full-time work, earning about $25 a week.  He had worked for thirteen years in the same foundry.  During that time, they enjoyed an adequate diet, sufficient clothing, and a private physician when medical care was needed.  The rent was paid promptly, no bills were incurred, and even savings had been laid by.</p><p>About two or three years ago, the installation of new machinery in the foundry resulted in part-time work, with each man working two, three, or four days a week.  This cut the income to $10, $15 or $20 a week, where formerly it was $25,&mdash;and sometimes more with overtime.</p><p>The savings were entirely used to supplement the curtailed income.  Now the rent runs over, but it is always paid within a few days, but at the expense of food and fuel.  The mother plans to &ldquo;cash in&rdquo; the small insurance which she has carried for five years on four of the children, in order to meet certain expenses incidental to her confinement, although she will have free medical service.  Mrs. Fabrizi has done a little hand work during the last few months, but her husband has insisted upon her giving it up because it <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110272">272</controlpgno><printpgno>221</printpgno></pageinfo>took time which her children and home needed.  She had hoped to get the younger children in a day nursery and take a factory job, but her pregnancy has made that impossible.</p><p>The family has received no aid,&mdash;being too proud to ask for it, and since the parents refuse to run into debt, the diet has suffered.  Macaroni and bread form the main diet, and milk, vegetables and fruit have been drastically reduced.  The mother says, &ldquo;If there isn&apos;t enough money for two quarts of milk, we get along with one.&rdquo;</p><p>The flat is poorly heated and the children are very inadequately clothed.  The mother gets second-hand clothing for the children who are in school; the younger ones are almost without clothes.  Even though the older children in the family walked at a normal age, the baby, who was born after the reduction in the family income, was nearly two years old when he walked.  Even yet, his legs are badly bowed.  A definite diagnosis of malnutrition has been made for him as well as for another of the younger-children.  Colds are almost chronic, especially among the younger children who have been subjected to the reduced budget for a larger proportion of their lives.  The mother has been in poorer condition during this pregnancy than others, and must now accept free medical care.</p><p>The father is regretful at his inability to provide adequately for his family, but he takes the situation rather stolidly.  He says he does the best he can.  He speaks very broken English.  Since he knows no other type of work, he feels that he has no choice but to keep the part-time job as long as it lasts.  He fears that other machinery may put him out altogether in a short time.</p><p>The mother has become depressed by existing conditions, which appear hopeless to her.  She is growing irritable and impatient, and unreasonable in her demands on the children, although she is ordinarily of a happy disposition.</p><p>The family atmosphere is generally harmonious.  The standards are set by the father, and the mother willingly falls in line.  If present conditions continue, it seems likely <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110273">273</controlpgno><printpgno>222</printpgno></pageinfo>that the continued inadequate diet will undermine the family health.</p><p>For the older children, at least, any period of special training for work can probably not be considered, and they will be put into industry as soon as the law allows.</p></div><div><head>CASE 88<hsep>Probation Office<lb>DORRIS CAMPBELL<hsep>Los Angeles, Calif.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(W. 34)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">16, 10</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Laundress, Glove Factory Worker,<lb>Telephone Operator<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>Doris Campbell, brought up on a Kansas farm, went with her parents to Canada, where she later married.  With two young children, after having been left a widow for the second time, she went to California, where she married in 1920, for the third time.  But her troubles persisted, and her husband failed to provide for her and the two children and deserted them in 1927.  He has not been seen since.</p><p>While living in Long Beach (Calif.), she made a brave struggle to educate her children and to keep up her home.  She worked at various positions, such as laundress, piece-worker in a glove factory, house-worker, and for a time, telephone operator.  While working in the glove factory she earned $5 a week and was paying $16.50 a month for her apartment.  Prior to this, she worked in the soft water laundry at $17 a week, but this work proved too strenuous for her and she left.  Between the time she left the laundry and the time she obtained a position in the glove factory, she had been out of employment for over a month, and had tried everywhere in Long Beach to find employment, even calling on the Chief of Police, requesting work.  She absolutely refused to accept charity of any kind.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110274">274</controlpgno><printpgno>223</printpgno></pageinfo><p>When she was unable to obtain work, she became desperate, and in order to keep food in the house for her children, she decided to pass a check, trusting that she could cover it before it reached the bank.  She was unable to do this, and was later arrested.  Investigation revealed that she had passed other checks,&mdash;all of which were issued for either clothing, groceries or other necessities of life.</p><p>At the time of her arrest, she was working for a local glove factory, where she had been employed for two weeks.  Her physical and mental condition was apparently normal, and from what could be found out about her, her associates have always been good.  Mrs. Campbell&apos;s sister came to her rescue and took Doris and the two children to her ranch to live.</p></div><div><head>CASE 89<hsep>Chicago Commons<lb>HARRY TOWNE<hsep>Chicago, Ill.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 28)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Driver, Newspaper Wagon<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">merging of organization</hi></hi></p><p>For years, as driver of a newspaper wagon, Harry had found a thrill in his work.  He loved his horse and cared for it well.  To be a part of the great system of getting an afternoon paper out to the people gave him great satisfaction and a real joy in life.</p><p>As soon as he had been able to go to work, he had been contributing to the support of his father and sisters.  The mother had died when Harry was still in school.  He felt the responsibility of the home, and as his father grew older, and needed more care, Harry and his younger sister moved with him to the home of a married sister who could give the father daytime care.</p><p>This fall two great journals combined and in the combination it was possible to economize on administrative expense, and suddenly Harry was notified that his services would no <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110275">275</controlpgno><printpgno>224</printpgno></pageinfo>longer be needed by the journal to which he had given years of faithful service.</p><p>At first he tried odd jobs when he could find them, but as day after day went by with no prospect of a steady job, he grew more silent and depressed.  He would leave the dinner table saying, &ldquo;It costs money to buy food.  I am not earning money?  His family tried to make him feel that their earnings were sufficient for all, but his depression increased.  Soon he would not leave the house; he ate little; he grew weak.  He stayed in bed for hours and could not be roused to action.  The doctor was called, but said there was nothing physically wrong.</p><p>Friends arranged for a visit to a psychiatric clinic.  With great effort, he was persuaded to go.  Again the medical examination showed little wrong, but the mental illness was very evident, and the psychiatrist began treatment.  The uphill struggle was beginning to show results, when a great shock came in the sudden death of a third sister, which so unnerved him that he had to be kept in bed and finally had to be taken to a sanatorium.</p><p>In four months&rsquo; time, this young man who had apparently adjusted in life with no sign of any physical or metal difficulty, happy in his work, and taking a real place in his home and community, has suffered a mental breakdown from which it will take him months to recover.</p></div><div><head>CASE 90<hsep>Chicago Commons<lb>JAMISON<hsep>Chicago, Ill.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Scand. descent)  (M. 50; W. 48)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">18, 11</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Blacksmith</hi> <hi rend="italics">(own shop)</hi>; <hi rend="smallcaps">Farm Machinery<lb>Assembler; Lath-Carrier<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">mechanization, seasonal slackness</hi></hi></p><p>Robert Jamison is of Scandinavian ancestry and was born on a farm near Chicago.  He is a kindly person, with a keen <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110276">276</controlpgno><printpgno>225</printpgno></pageinfo>sense of humor, who has many friends and enjoys a good visit with them.  Mrs. Jamison was born in the house which the family now occupies and is very proud of that fact.  There are two boys, Martin, who is 18, and Richard, 11 years of age.  Martin left school after completing the eighth grade and Richard is still in school.  Both parents are very proud of these boys.</p><p>The house is a frame cottage which has been raised on a brick foundation to make two stories.  Mrs. Jamison&apos;s mother lives in the lower apartment.  The furnishings are plain but comfortable and show signs of having been well used by the family group.  A player piano with a number of rolls and victrola show a fondness for music.  The house is still lighted with gas.</p><p>Mr. Jamison began his industrial experience as a horse-shoer and eventually acquired a shop of his own which was most successful.  A large share of his work consisted in shoeing the horses on the delivery wagons of a large department store.  The advent of the automobile cut off this source of work and he was forced to dispose of his shop and enter a factory.  According to Mr. Jamison, his superior knowledge of the art of assembling the farm machinery manufactured here made him very unpopular with the foreman and he found it advisable to leave.  This information had been acquired during his youth when father had an agency for farm machinery.  After many changes, he became a lath-carrier.  The weather conditions of the winter interfere with building operations to such an extent that the income of the family is reduced one-half.  To make a bad matter worse, just as building operations opened up again, Mr. Jamison strained his back at his work and has been incapacitated for some time.  Formerly his wages average between $30 and $40 a week, but this winter they have been reduced to $16 and less.</p><p>Martin, the older son, worked out of town for a magazine agency, but left his job because of the dishonest methods of the agent in charge.  At Christmas time he found work in the <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110277">277</controlpgno><printpgno>226</printpgno></pageinfo>wrapping department of a large store and was laid off when the rush ended.  For weeks he searched unsuccessfully for work and finally went by automobile to Texas with a friend of his father&apos;s.  Martin&apos;s total cash in hand was $3.  He found work on a ranch and wrote home ethusiastically fo his experiences.  When the spring work opened up, there was little for an inexperienced boy to do and he came home.  For a long time he searched for work and became much discouraged, but finally took a job on the night force in a Thompson Restaurant.  He dislikes this work and his mother feels that he will return to Texas when he has saved enough money for his transportation.</p><p>The finally have always paid cash for their needs, but this year that has not been possible and debts have been incurred.  They have had a little money invested in stocks, but according to Mrs. Jamison it has not been possible to realize anything on these and there are no dividends.  The only relief received has been baskets of food at Christmas and Thanksgiving.  These have been given by a mission which Mrs. Jamison attends.</p><p>Mr. Jamison is extremely nervous and wrought up over the situation and weeps every time the subject is introduced.  It is becoming very easy for her to ask for help.  There have been times when the pantry has been practically bare of food.  New clothing has been out of the question and this no doubt has been a partial cause of Mrs. Jamison&apos;s irregular attendance at the club, along with a lack of carfare.  She is very conscious of her inability to assume her share of the club responsibilities.</p><p>Mr. Jamison has been obliged to give up his one recreation, the Gun Club.  He very early learned to hunt and is an expert marksman.  When urged by other members to continue at their expense his reply is, &ldquo;I&apos;ll never let another man pay for my shells.&rdquo;</p><p>The family relationship seems quite normal, no doubt because of the kindly, placid attitude of the father.  He is deeply concerned over their situation but feels hopeful of <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110278">278</controlpgno><printpgno>227</printpgno></pageinfo>being able to get on his feet again when the building trades become more active.</p></div><div><head>CASE 91<hsep>Sunshine Center,<lb>YANCEY<hsep>Louisville, Ky.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Negro) (M. 49; W. 37)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">9, 6 (former chn. grown &amp; married)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Fireman in Tobacco Factory<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">removal of factory and security of other<lb>jobs</hi></hi></p><p>Mr. Yancey, married for the third time, has two children by his present wife, a boy of 9 years and a girl of 6.  His children by his former marriages are now grown up and married.</p><p>He has always been an energetic, thrifty man who believed that the man should support the home.</p><p>For ten or twelve years until last December, he had been employed as fireman in a tobacco factory.  When the factory moved to Greensboro, N.C., he was offered the same job there.  But his wife did not like the idea of moving and since he had started buying a home, he himself preferred not to go.  He says that if he had had any idea that work would be so scare he would have gone.  His wages with the tobacco company were $25 a week.  This kept the family comfortably and also enabled him to meet the payments on his home and save for a &ldquo;rainy day,&rdquo; as he said.  But it rained too soon for him.  When he made a payment on his house in January and paid his December and January bills his savings were used up.</p><p>His wife has gone out to do cleaning and laundry work by the day and he looks after the home and children.  He has some mechanical skill and has fitted up a little shop in the rear of his yard.  Here he and his grown son repair automobiles, but even this does not add much to the income.  His married children have each contributed a little towards his expenses.  All these contibutions, with what he and his wife <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110279">279</controlpgno><printpgno>228</printpgno></pageinfo>can make, are inadequate for their current expenses, and his next payment on the home looms ahead with nothing saved to meet it.</p><p>He has not made an appeal to any one for outside help other than his own family.</p><p>Recently his brother found him alone in his little shop, sitting with his head buried in his hands.  He was quite despondent and said he had no idea which way to turn or what to do.  Although he would do any kind of work, he just could not find a job and could hardly sleep for worrying over the payment which would soon be due on his home.</p></div><div><head>CASE 92<hsep>Northeast Neighborhood House<lb>JANUSKIWICZ<hsep>Minneapolis, Minn.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Polish</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 41; W. 40)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">20, 18, 16, 6</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Farmer; Later in City, Worker at<lb>Odd Jobs<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression on farm; depression in city</hi></hi></p><p>Mrs. Januskiwicz is a Polish woman who comes to our Employment Bureau for day work.  The husband, who is a laborer, has worked here and there wherever he could get something to do.  The last place of work was at a bag factory; he made $18 a week baling bags.  He worked so hard that he was sick for some time, but they took him back and he worked for six months and was laid off in December.  He has been looking for work two months but in vain.  As Mrs. Januskiwicz said, &ldquo;Yes, we came to the city from the country &mdash;we could make no extra money&mdash;just a living.  We sold the farm and bought the house we live in.  It&apos;s a very nice place.  We still have a mortgage on the home and are making payments.  We are also getting furniture on payments, little by little,&mdash;we were getting along fine.</p><p>&ldquo;John and George were out of work for several months, but now they both have been working in a box factory.  ... <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110280">280</controlpgno><printpgno>229</printpgno></pageinfo>Yes, John is 20 years old and he makes $15 a week and George is 18 years old and makes the same.  What the boys makes goes toward paying on the house.  Viola is 16 years old and goes to high school and will graduate next year.  I don&apos;t want to take her out of school because she learns very good.</p><p>&ldquo;I sure would be glad to see her go to the university because she is a smart girl, but how can we?  John wanted to go to the Industrial Training School to learn a trade, but we could not afford it.  Oh, no, not even to take evening school.</p><p>&ldquo;John and George had a twenty-year endowment policy, but they had to drop it because they could not keep up the payments.</p><p>&ldquo;You see if I didn&apos;t work we could not get along&mdash;but I go out, when I can, to do day work,&mdash;washing, ironing and cleaning, and make enough to pay for groceries, butcher, gas and electric bills.  My Viola needs good clothes for high school.  I make all the clothes for her,&mdash;make things over if I get some nice dresses from some of my employers.  Yes, I always see to it that Viola looks nice and the same way with every one in my family,&mdash;no matter how poor.</p><p>&ldquo;No, I am glad to say so far we were able to get along without help from any one, but if my husband does not get work soon I don&apos;t know what will happen.  I am not very well; I was very sick last winter and that is because I worked so hard.  This cleaning, washing and ironing is hard work.</p><p>&ldquo;Now my Robert will be six years old soon and must go to school&mdash;I don&apos;t know how I will get along.  I can&apos;t leave him alone.  Until now I have taken him to the nursery school at the settlement, but maybe I have to give up work unless I have some neighbor girl give him lunch, but you can&apos;t depend on neighbors.  I can not take him to my sisters because one is a widow and works every day and the other is not very well.</p><p>&ldquo;Who knows how long my boys will be willing to help pay on the house?  Already they are complaining what little they make they can not buy anything for themselves.  I don&apos;t <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110281">281</controlpgno><printpgno>230</printpgno></pageinfo>blame them; it is true.  My husband feels badly to see boys get cross and tried to explain that it is all in the family and what they put in the home it&apos;s all theirs.  The days that I work my husband stays home and takes care of the housework and gets the meals ready.  He helps me wash clothes in the evening and Viola does the ironing after school.</p><p>&ldquo;Everyone is doing his share.  Oh, if he could only get work we&apos;d get along good!&rdquo;</p></div><div><head>CASE 93<hsep>Neighborhood House<lb>CLANCY<hsep>Louisville, Ky.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 36; W. 38)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">1, 14 yrs. old</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Misc. Unskilled Jobs<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression, advancing age of father</hi></hi></p><p>The Clancy&apos;s story of unemployment has had a happy ending.  Several years ago, when the Clancy, Jr., family was still living with the Clancy elders, Mr. Clancy, Sr., lost his job as policeman through a change in city administration.  At the same time, his daughter, Ella, suffered a nervous collapse and was out of employment for many months.  Mr. Clancy, Jr., also lost his position at a paint comapany where he had been steadily employed because of an ill-advised remark concerning a labor union.  The two branches of the family, which until his time had never had help of any kind, were left in dire straits.  The support of both families devolved for a time on Mrs. Clancy, Jr.</p><p>Mr. Clancy, Sr., being past sixty when he lost his position as policeman, found it difficult to secure any employment for over two years.  Ella Clancy was absent from work as a telephone operator several weeks because of illness and found her job given to someone else by the time she returned to work.  Mr. Clancy, Jr., sought work continuously, but was unsuccessful in finding it.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110282">282</controlpgno><printpgno>231</printpgno></pageinfo><p>The elder Clancys had small savings which saw them over the bare necessities of life during the two years.  The Clancy, Jr., family had no savings.  They were forced to let all insurance (each member of the family was insured in a small policy) lapse.  They were in arrears several months with rent to the Clancy elders with whom they lived.  Afraid to run a grocery bill, they did without food.  Mrs. Clancy, Jr., began making childen&apos;s dresses at 25 cents apiece, but she owed $20 on her sewing machine and was threatened with having it &ldquo;taken back.&rdquo;  She finally got work scrubbing offices, which she did until the family fortunes changed.  At this time, through the Neighborhood House to which Mrs. Clancy had come in bewilderment at her predicament, the family was referred to the Family Service, which gave material aid and after a time was instrumental in having Mr. Clancy reinstated with the paint company.</p><p>During his period of unemployment, Mr. Clancy, Jr. suffered from colds and rheumatism aggravated, probably, by lack of proper nourishment and insufficient fuel, as the Clancys did without rather than incur bills.  The 14-year-old daughter, Edith, then became ill, making it difficult for her mother to care for her and at the same time keep up her scrubbing at night.  The grandmother, the elder Mrs. Clancy, who was serving as housekeeper for both families at this period, suffered from a very painfull foot trouble which visits to the chiropodist relieved, but she could not afford this relief and found it difficult to perform the household duties.</p><p>Mr. Clancy, Jr., became very despondent, threatening on several occasions to take his life, and Mrs. Clancy often verged on the hysterical over the probable fate of her family.  Her husband, in his despondent condition and worrying over his family&apos;s suffering, took to drink, a habit which still recurs at periods, much to his wife&apos;s distress.  Mrs. Clancy (Jr.) found it very difficult to live with her husband at this time, fearing that he would attempt suicide.</p><p>Only through Mrs. Clancy&apos;s ambition and resourcefulness was this family able to prevent any permanent handicaps to <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110283">283</controlpgno><printpgno>232</printpgno></pageinfo>their future well-being.  Mrs. Clancy kept the family in close touch with Neighborhood House, in that way arranging for recreation and relaxation that would otherwise have been denied the family.</p><p>For instance, Mrs. Clancy, always a leader, was at this time serving as president of the settlement Mothers&rsquo; Club, in which she took interest.  Out of the meagre earnings coming from her night job as scrubwoman, she managed to save $11 with which to buy her husband a suit so that he might come to the settlement and become a member of the fathers&rsquo; Club.  He had been too ashamed of his appearance to accompany his wife there before the purchase of the new suit.  Mr. Clancy&apos;s in the club was marked by his being elected president!</p><p>The recreation brought about by Mr. Clancy&apos;s participation in the Men&apos;s Club at the settlement, Mrs. Clancy declares, was the &ldquo;salvation of my husband.&rdquo;  It brought about new self-respect and ambition to succeed, and he got a job.</p><p>The younger Clancys now have their own three-room cottage near their parents.  The 14-year-old daughter is attending high school and Mrs. Clancy has been able to give up her job.  Mr. Clancy has repeatedly offered to pay back the Family Service for the assistance rendered his family in their time of need.</p><p>The only sad reminder Mrs. Clancy has of her experience with unemployment is the occasional &ldquo;sprees&rdquo; of drinking that attack her husband.  He has never been able to rid himself wholly of this habit acquired during his period of despondency.  But Mrs. Clancy is patiently trying to &ldquo;break him&rdquo; of this by frequently remaining at home with him, trying to fill his evenings pleasantly and thus prevent him from seeking company in which he will drink.  &ldquo;That&apos;s the reason I ain&apos;t been to the club the last couple of times,&rdquo; she apologized, &ldquo;but I&apos;ll be there next week.  There ain&apos;t nothing goin&rsquo; to keep me way from Neighborhood.&rdquo;</p></div><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110284">284</controlpgno><printpgno>233</printpgno></pageinfo><div><head>CASE 94<hsep>Neighborhood House<lb>GALLINI<hsep>Madison, Wis.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Ital.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 40; W. 31)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">8, 7, 6, 3, 2 (baby expected)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Laborer<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">seasonal slackness</hi></hi></p><p>The Gallini family of seven lives in a section known as the &ldquo;Little Italy&rdquo; of Madison.  As the children are all small, the father alone to support them, for the mother has all she can do to keep house and watch over them.  Mr. Gallini is a day laborer, and was last employed in a coal company where he earned 50 cents an hour.</p><p>In his nineteen years in this country, Mr. Gallini has worked in many places.  In the fall two years ago, he was working in a coal company, but when spring came he had work only three days a week.  He could not support his family on this; so he quit and went to work for a gas company.  This job was seasonal, and last fall, he was laid off.  He then went back to the coal company and worked there until he was laid off in the middle of January.</p><p>He has been out of work about two months.  During February, he had no work whatsoever, but during March, he has been working part-time at odd jobs.</p><p>He is persevering and energetic.  Last fall through Mr. and Mrs. Gallini&apos;s careful planning they built a little fourroom home, paying for it month by month.  They usually had plenty to eat, enough to wear, and a father with a steady job and steady income.  But this did not continue long.  Soon after the house was built Mr. Gallini was thrown out of work.  He then could not pay his bills, or continue payment on his home.  All day long he tampered through the city to find work, but no job was available.  He became much worried over the situation.  Bills kept coming in, and there was not a cent in savings to met the crisis.  He went to his creditors and promised faithfully to pay his bills if only they <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110285">285</controlpgno><printpgno>234</printpgno></pageinfo>would continue to supply his family with food, clothing and coal.  He said, &ldquo;My children must be fed and kept warm.  I&apos;d rather steal than see them starve.&rdquo;  He wants to meet his debts honestly, and not depend upon anyone to support his family, although aid has been received from relatives, and the Family Welfare Association has given them coal credit until Mr. Gallini can get a job.</p><p>So far as is known they have been able to keep up their usual standards.  They are all healthy, with the exception of Florence, the second child.  She does not look as well as the rest.  Stephen met with an accident last fall and the doctor bill of $21 has not yet been paid.</p><p>Mr. Gallini faces his problem with courage.  He has not given up, but keeps tramping day after day looking for work.  He has had no education, and now feels that he should go to school to learn English, or at least learn how to write his own name, which he is sure will be a big asset in helping him get work.  Mrs. Gallini, too, is very anxious to see her husband get work, and is not the kind who gives up easily.  The wife is pregnant and this has much to do with increasing the anxiety of the husband.</p></div><div><head>CASE 95<hsep>St. Martha&apos;s House<lb>CARRETTA<hsep>Philadelphia, Pa.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Ital.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 35; W. 27)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">8, 6, 4, 2, 3 mos.</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Cabinet-Maker<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>Mr. Carretta came to this country at the age of 11, having attended school in Italy and at the same time learned the trade of cabinet-maker.  On the arrival of the family in America, Mr. Carretta went to work in a furniture company, continuing the same trade and attending night school for two years.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110286">286</controlpgno><printpgno>235</printpgno></pageinfo><p>Mrs. Carretta&apos;s family emigrated to America when she was 2 years old.  Her father, a stonemason, died when she was 14, so that she was compelled to stop school and go to work in a glove factory.</p><p>At the time Mr. and Mrs. Carretta were married (1920), Mr. Carretta was earning $40 a week with a refrigerator company.  However, he was laid off after five months because of no work.  They then went to live with Mrs. Carretta&apos;s mother.  They now live with Mr. Carretta&apos;s parents and the conditions are most trying.</p><p>Mr. Carretta, Sr., is a jeweler and watch repairer, but is aging and is not doing well.  He is buying his house and he rents two rooms and the use of the kitchen to his son and his wife for $25.  The parents need the rent in order to meet their bills and make it most disagreeable for the young people when it is not paid.</p><p>During the general business depression, Mr. Carretta was laid off in April, 1928, and was unemployed for two and a half months.  From July 11 (1928) to January 23, 1929, he was employed and again lost his position because of the depression.  Carretta has been called back to the same factory three times.</p><p>In the last year, Mr. Carretta has been unemployed for five months, and was unable to secure other work even during the summer.  At present, he has found a job as packer earning $15 a week.</p><p>Unemployment has resulted in the using up of their savings of $123.  They pawned Mrs. Carretta&apos;s engagement ring and her husband&apos;s watch,&mdash;the latter to get carfare to seek work.  They have also borrowed $200 from a loan office.  In all, they now owe about $250.  This involves the grocer, coal man, baker, rent, insurance, and loan.  The union membership and sick benefit society were dropped because the dues could not be kept up.</p><p>Last year, the wife embroidered children&apos;s dresses at the rate of 35 cents a dozen and now is sewing on trousers at 9 cents each.  Her mother-in-law refuses to care for the <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110287">287</controlpgno><printpgno>236</printpgno></pageinfo>children, thus making it impossible to accept outside employment.  Mrs. Carretta&apos;s mother herself has a large family and so cannot help her daughter.</p><p>The family has been affected physically.  There is evidence of much undernourishment.  The two oldest boys wear braces because they have crooked backs.  Lester is in a hospital on the verge of tuberculosis.  His mother said, &ldquo;The doctor says, &lsquo;Even God can&apos;t help Lester if he gets tuberculosis.&rsquo;  And what can I do?  Doctor says to give him right kind of food.  I did buy fresh eggs for him, but they went up to seventy cents a dozen and now my husband is out of work.&rdquo;  All the children are undernourished.</p><p>The mother was forced to have a &ldquo;charity doctor,&rdquo; as she called it, in her last confinement, and she thinks that her milk is being affected by her nervous and overwrought condition before the baby was born.  Besides trying to assist with the family income, she is forced to attend clinics here and there with her children, and lives under trying conditions with her husband&apos;s parents.</p><p>They have inadequate clothing.  When at a clinic, Mrs. Carretta was seen by someone with such wretched shoes that a pair came to her from an unknown source through the mail.</p><p>Mr. Carretta is very much worried over the predicament of his family, but keeps on trying.  As Mrs. Carretta expresses it, &ldquo;My husband says, &lsquo;Every night he wishes to be dead by morning and the children too.&rsquo;&rdquo;  He has always tried hard to get odd jobs during periods of unemployment.  He has helped his friends in their homes, and has worked in a hotel two weeks, making $14 a week.</p><p>Mrs. Carretta tries to keep her husband buoyed up and has called up employers herself asking if they could possibly take her husband on.</p><p>They dislike asking for financial aid.  Mr. Carretta said he &ldquo;would rather die than ask for assistance as once you start getting help it gives you a different feeling and is liable to make you lose your initiative.&rdquo;  As Mrs. Carretta says, &ldquo;It <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110288">288</controlpgno><printpgno>237</printpgno></pageinfo>takes you out of society to receive help.  It gives you people a down feeling about you.&rdquo;</p><p>Unemployment has curtailed the family&apos;s opportunities for development.  Unless Mr. Carretta is able to secure steady employment, he and his family cannot have the proper recreation or take advantage of community benefits, etc.  In fact, they were unable to pay 15 cents to come to an entertainment which was being given by one of our clubs.  When I went to visit the family to see why Mrs. Carretta had not returned to the club after her confinement, she mentioned her husband&apos;s lack of employment and her own lack of clothes.</p><p>Mr. Carretta smokes but does not drink.  He enjoys movies, but cannot afford to go.</p><p>Because of undernourishment, Lester has been at school very little this winter, and he is getting behind in his grades.  The children&apos;s vitality has been lowered and the contract colds easily.  These also keep them out of school.</p><p>Mrs. Carretta desires to attend her club regularly, but says she has &ldquo;not the heart to get ready to go out.&rdquo;</p></div><div><head>CASE 96<hsep>Workman Place House<lb>DROVER<hsep>Philadelphia, Pa.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Irish parentage) (M. 39); (Ger.<lb>parentage) (W. 38)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">18, 16, 14, 12, 8, 5, 2</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Misc. Unskilled Worker in Factories;<lb>Then Longshoreman, Truck-Driver<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>The Drovers have been our friends for seven years.  Mrs. Drover is a pleasing little woman, always ready to have a chat about her family and household affairs.  She frequently tells how she manages her budget and endeavors to spend her limited income in a manner that will keep her children <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110289">289</controlpgno><printpgno>238</printpgno></pageinfo>healthy and happy.  She has a particularly happy faculty of seeing things from her children&apos;s point of view.</p><p>Mr. Drover is also likable but not as optimistic as his wife nor has he the same patience in facing hard times.  Both parents have a keen desire to instill honesty into their children and to have them better prepared for life than they themselves were.  Mr. Drover went only as far as the 7th grade in school.</p><p>They married young and lived with Mr. Drover&apos;s parents, to whom Mr. Drover turned over almost his entire pay each week.  Mrs. Drover said, &ldquo;I did not need much then and I thought he should do it.&rdquo;</p><p>After four children, including twins, were born, they rented a house of three small rooms and live by themselves.  One twin died by accident when five years old.  There are seven children now.</p><p>Mr. Drover&apos;s wages seldom exceeded $18 per week, but with some help from both Mr. and Mrs. Drover&apos;s parents they got along fairly well and were happy.  Mr. Drover worked in a factory which manufactured horse blankets.  He lost his job when factory closed and then went to work in a coffee house.  Hearing of big money being made by long-shoremen, he decided to try that.  He made $50 the first week but became very ill with pneumonia.  After recovering he got a job as a truck-driver with a city department at $3.30 per day.</p><p>They looked forward to the time when the boys could get to work, and at 15, Philip left school (7th grade) and became a Western Union messenger.  After a few months he secured a better job at $10, and was later promoted to $12.  Ralph and Peter took a paper route and this brought in about $3 per week.  The family, growing up and needing larger quarters, took a six-room house.  Ralph, at 14, left school and got a job at $10 a week with a hardware concern.  The whole family was feeling very happy and began putting their house in good order and making it as homelike an attractive as possible so that the boys could bring in <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110290">290</controlpgno><printpgno>239</printpgno></pageinfo>their friends. They took great pride in being able to do this and the parents were glad to feel that they would not be on the streets so much in the evenings.</p><p>After six months, Philip&apos;s place of business almost closed because of the general business depression, and Philip was laid off.  Peter had been continuing the paper route but needed some capital because clients were slow in paying.  This could not be covered by their present income; so the route had to be abandoned.  The rent ran behind and debts for food accumulated.  Mr. Drover became ill, and the doctor ordered all his teeth removed.  Mrs. Drover felt the tremendous strain of the unhappiness of the whole family.  The children could not get proper nourishment from the food they were able to have.</p><p>Philip secured another job at a foundry, but this did not last long because business became bad and twenty men were turned off.</p><p>Mrs. Drover says, &ldquo;Sometimes I think I will go crazy.  I said to the vegetable man today, &ldquo;I know I owe you money, but my boy is out of work and I must have some potatoes.  That is all I can get.  Have you some cheap ones?&rsquo;  Sometimes I owe Rosie, who sells butter and eggs, as much as $12.  I buy cracked eggs, for they are cheaper and Rosie throws off some anyway.  We can&apos;t afford milk for the children.  Sometimes I may get a quart, but I can&apos;t run a bill with the milkman, too.</p><p>&ldquo;As for clothes, if it weren&apos;t for what I get from the settlement I don&apos;t know what I&apos;d do.  The boys need things so much.  Peter wants to leave school because he does not look like the other boys.  He says he can&apos;t eat his dry lunch either.  He wants some fruit, but I cannot give it to him and Ralph thinks he ought to get eggs for lunch.  I give him the best I have and I take bread and tea myself.  When it comes to my clothes, I get nothing.  I need bedding in the worst way.  Philip is out every day looking for work and I do wish he could find some.  Just look at me shakin&apos;.  I guess it is trouble.&rdquo;</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110291">291</controlpgno><printpgno>240</printpgno></pageinfo><p>An atmosphere of irritability seems to pervade the whole family.  The boys are restless, unhappy and difficult to discipline.  Peter, though a Boy Scout, cannot go on the outings or partake of the things that the other boys do, unless somebody gives him the money.  Philip and Ralph resent not having spending money even for small things.  Bessie cannot compete with her girl friends or neighbors in the many little things girls like to do by way of recreation, because generally it involves some little expense.</p><p>The three younger children have been ill, but now Mr. Drover is back at work at $3.30 per day, and Ralph has a job at $8.80 per week.</p></div><div><head>CASE 97<hsep>Family Welfare Society<lb>WILLIAMS<hsep>Savannah, Ga.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 37; W. 38)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">13, 2</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Cabinet-Maker<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">business depression</hi></hi></p><p>Two years ago Ransom Williams and his family lived in an attractive house in a very good neighborhood, and their home was comfortably and nicely furnished.  The mother would often have children who were less well cared for than hers into her home, and would dress and feed them.  She had nice clothes, visited her friends and had them visit her, and the father belonged to a fraternal organization.  The boy was a Scout.  They were able to play a successful part in the life of their community and they were happy.  All this was done on the $100 a month that Ransom earned in an automobile firm where he had been for placed for vocational training by the government after his service in the army during the World War.  Before putting him with this firm, the government had sent him for treatment for pellagra to Lake City Hospital in Florida.  While in the hospital, he <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110292">292</controlpgno><printpgno>241</printpgno></pageinfo>received vocational training in cabinet-making, which trade he turned to when he lost his job in the automobile concern, where he had been for two and a half years receiving training.  They told him that the amount of business they were doing did not warrant their keeping him.  As a cabinet-maker, Williams only earned $2 a day and it was four months before he found a job.  Owing to the careful management of the mother, the family lived through these four months in a meagre sort of way without outside help, but debts began to accumulate, and rent became overdue, and the insurance was allowed to lapse.  Finally they pawned a desk and a diamond ring, and they lost a bedroom set which was being paid for on the instalment plan.</p><p>The family was forced to move into a poorer neighborhood, and they had to rent out a room or two; later they had to move again to a still cheaper house, and they had to sell some of the furniture.</p><p>Although their young son was eager to finish school, he felt that he must help the family.  The best he could get was a job as errand boy in a drug store, at $5 a week.</p><p>Their former standards could not be kept up, and soon the diet had to be &ldquo;trimmed.&rdquo;  The clothing was not sufficient, and all of them suffered from colds, and the little girl was threatened with pneumonia.</p><p>The furnishings of the home were no longer attractive, and as the rooms were very small, there was a crowded, untidy appearance, where formerly there had been a very pleasant and inviting atmosphere.</p><p>The mother worried constantly, was pale and emaciated, and complained of always feeling half-sick, although she was seldom cross or irritable.  The father, who had been practically cured of pellagra, showed signs of a return of this malady, and the son became listless and thin.</p><p>At first, Ransom Williams had been hopeful, and objected to receiving relief, but gradually, as matters grew more serious, he lost this reluctance, and finally he would ask for aid when the occasion was pressing.  He was always <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110293">293</controlpgno><printpgno>242</printpgno></pageinfo>hoping that something would turn up, and would apply for every job that he was told about, but towards the last, his courage began to ebb.</p></div><div><head>CASE 98<hsep>Hull House<lb>RAFAEL<hsep>Chicago, Ill.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Mex.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 33; W 32)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn.</hi>  <hi rend="italics">6, 5, 3, 1</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Painter</hi> <hi rend="italics">(skilled in spray &amp; brush systems,<lb>also lacquer)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">introduction of new process</hi></hi></p><p>Rafael, a skilled painter, came to Chicago from Mexico in 1921, bringing with him letters of recommendation from the contractor in charge of the decoration of the General Hospital in Mexico City.  He asked for assistance in finding work, in December, 1921.  Work was secured in a factory painting automobiles.</p><p>He had only three years of education in Mexico, none in the United States, but he speaks enough English to make himself understood.  He is classed as a skilled painter, capable of using either the spray or brush system of painting or lacquer.</p><p>In 1922, he married a young woman of his nationality, who had been in the United States a year.  They now have a family of four bright, attractive children.  Before her marriage, the mother worked as a house-maid, but since her marriage, because of the frequency of her pregnancies and her poor health, she has not been able to work.</p><p>Her husband had fairly steady work until about two years ago.  For a number of years, Rafael not only supported his own family, but helped his sister and her family of four small children in Mexico.  As the husband of the sister had deserted his family, Rafael attempted to bring the sister and four children into the Untied States.  He at that time (1924) signed an affidavit that he had furniture valued at <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110294">294</controlpgno><printpgno>243</printpgno></pageinfo>$500, $50 in cash and an insurance policy of $1,900.  After careful investigation, the Immigrants&rsquo; Protective League recommended Mr. Rafael as trustworthy, and apparently thought he was capable of carrying the additional burden of a dependent family.  The Immigration Inspector found, however, that the sister was illiterate and the family was therefore not admitted.  No further contact with them was had until January of the present year (1929).</p><p>Until the end of 1926, he continued to work for a motor car company, earning $1 an hour,&mdash;an average of $40 a week.</p><p>The exact causes of the unemployment were hard to determine.  The introduction of the spray lacquer system reduced the number of workmen needed.  The man&apos;s health began to break, and he suffered much from a pain in his right arm, which he felt was due to the nature of his work.  Personal friction with one of the Italian employees led to trouble, a misunderstanding, an his dismissal.  He was robbed of his letters of recommendation and found it difficult to find work.</p><p>The health of his wife continued poor; the home conditions were increasingly dreary; and the difficulty of a workman handicapped by ignorance of the language and opportunities seems to have combined to discourage the man and prevent his finding an adequate job and one for which his trade fitted him.</p><p>In the two years during which he has not had steady work, he has done any work he could find, occasionally painting, but often, heavier work.  His wages at this unskilled labor were small.  His income dropped from $40 a week to occasional day work at $3 or $4.</p><p>A contributing cause was the fact that this period was one of general unemployment in Chicago.  Moreover, the Mexican immigration in any large numbers is comparatively new to Illinois.  Members of any new group working under a language handicap are the last to find employment and the first to be laid off in slack periods.</p><p>The savings they had were all used up,&mdash;and at present <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110295">295</controlpgno><printpgno>244</printpgno></pageinfo>they are in debt for rent, medicine, gas, light and food.  In December, 1928, an appeal was made to the Country Bureau of Public Welfare and cash grants and provisions were given but are still inadequate.</p><p>The family moved into an exceedingly unhygienic basement flat of four rooms for which they pay $18 month.  They chose this floor because it is steam heated and they could save the price of coal.  The two bedrooms are without windows, lighted and ventilated through the kitchen and living room, which are themselves dark,&mdash;being basement rooms opening into a small and exceedingly dirty backyard.</p><p>The home is exceedingly bare, dreary and dirty.  The furnishings have been reduced to one small table, beds, chairs, an old rug and a stove.  Of the $500 of the furniture reported in 1924, practically nothing remains.  It has been sold to buy food.</p><p>The wife has not gone out to work because of the young baby and her own ill-health.  They have appealed to various organizations for aid and it would seem that the family, once independent and attempting to care for another dependent family, is fast developing into that status itself.</p><p>Mr. Rafael is at present awaiting admission to a hospital for a operation for double rupture, caused, the doctors think, by the strain of heavy work to which he was unaccustomed, and consequently, which he had not known how to handle without injury to himself.  He also suffers from rheumatism or some affection of the muscles of the arm.</p><p>Mrs. Rafael had been under treatment at one of the dermatology clinics, but had discontinued her treatment.  She says he often does not have money for the carfare.  As she was previously classed as a two-plus Wassermann, the damaging consequences of this neglect might be, and probably will be, far-reaching.  As yet, the children do not show any great deterioration, but the mother has not been able to buy milk for them&mdash;nor has been able to wean her baby as the doctors ordered, for she could not buy the necessary food.  The children are pale.  The rooms are dark and the <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110296">296</controlpgno><printpgno>245</printpgno></pageinfo>children cannot get outdoors to play for lack of proper clothing.  However, they are not thin.  The country ration on which they live provides beans, flour, etc., but they are without an adequate supply of vegetables and fruits.</p><p>Mrs. Rafael complains that her eyes trouble her a great deal, but that she has not found it possible to leave home and go to a free clinic to have them examined.</p><p>The family is registered with eight public agencies and the combined efforts of all these public agencies as well as private agencies are directed toward the solution of the problems which the family under normal conditions should have been able to handle itself.  The Home for the Friendliness cared for the children during the mother&apos;s last confinement and advised dental care.  They have not yet received it.  The eldest child was diagnosed as having convergent squint, but he has not returned to the clinic.</p><p>The husband is somewhat discouraged.  The wife seems pathetically resigned to the fact that they must struggle along merely existing; she is not particularly concerned about the welfare of her children, and assumes to some extent the &ldquo;begging attitude.&rdquo;  She needs things; her husband can&apos;t provide them, and someone must; therefore she expects them from others.  She seems fond of the attractive and bright children, but laments the fact that she ever married, since so much trouble has come to her.</p><p>The children all give evidence of alertness and intelligence.</p><p>Participation in social life, financing illnesses, or providing for old age will be utterly impossible.  As there is no provision for actual needs, there can be no margin for development, emergencies or savings.  Except as the state or private and public organizations provide for them, there can be no solution.  They will become a completely dependent family.  Recovery of health and work by the wage-earner, on the other hand, would probably mean quite the opposite.</p></div><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110297">297</controlpgno><printpgno>246</printpgno></pageinfo><div><head>CASE 99<hsep>Welcome Hall<lb>FIGELO<hsep>Buffalo, N. Y.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Ital.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 38, W. 38)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">17, 14, 12, 10, 7, 5, 2</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Laborer</hi> <hi rend="italics">(formerly cleaned Pullman cars)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">seasonal slackness, depression</hi></hi></p><p>Mrs. Figelo made a lovely Madonna in some Tableaux Vivants that the settlement put on some years ago,&mdash;her fifth and youngest child asleep in her lap.  There are eight children now and she is a grandmother as well, for Mary, her oldest, married at the age of 15.  But Mrs. Figelo is young looking and handsome still in spite of sad lines in her face and fear in her dark eyes.  She lay in her big starched and frilled bed&mdash;Italians, the poorest of them, do manage to have at least one good, well-equipped bed&mdash;and cried from sheer weakness and discouragement.  She was recovering so very slowly from an appendicitis operation which was performed on one of our endowed hospital beds, for she had no money for a private doctor.</p><p>Mr. Figelo is a day laborer with little English at his command in spite of his years in America.  For many years he had a good job cleaning Pullman cars, but during a strike he lost his job and hasn&apos;t found anything steady since.  He has worked scarcely any this last year.  Moreover, he has been drinking heavily, spending what little money he did earn, and gambling, too,&mdash;something the never did to excess when he had steady work.  And his wife in her weakness and distress scarcely knows what to do next.</p><p>The children all look thin and undernourished and are slow and dull in school.  John, who is 17, work in a candy factory that shuts down at intervals during the year.  Then there is Antoinette, 14, who is still in school but who is compelled by necessity to lose much time because she is needed at home.  Virginia 12; Louis, 10; Maggie, 7; Palma, 5, and Annabel, 2.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110298">298</controlpgno><printpgno>247</printpgno></pageinfo><p>Virginia, Maggie and Palma have all been out at the Children&apos;s Convalescent Home in the country getting built up.  Fortunately, there is no rent problem to face because Mrs. Figelo&apos;s uncle bought the house for her, but she does hope to pay him for it some time.</p><p>For many summers she has taken all her children to a truck farm near town where all of them, young and old, worked in the fields picking and planting vegetables and small fruits.  Late in September they would return to town with a tidy sum of money saved to augment the husband&apos;s earnings and tide the family over the lean months of unemployment.  Last summer Mrs. Figelo did not feel equal to farm work; so she stayed in town and, instead, opened a soft drink and ice cream stand.  She has tried taking in roomers also, but her large family leaves little unoccupied space in the two-story cottage.</p><p>Mrs. Figelo is the youngest of five girls who came over here from Italy after their mother died, to join the father already here.  She has worked hard all her life with little time for school or play.  She laughed through her tears as she told of her short experience in school here in Buffalo.  Being the youngest she coaxed her father to send her to school.  He finally consented and what a world of rich opportunity opened up for the little Italian girl!  But, alas!  Her happiness was short-lived!  One fatal day her father chanced to pass the school at recess time.  The children were playing circle games in the yard&mdash;his daughter among them.  What foolishness!  What a waste of time!  Was this what American schools were like!  He took a strap and whipped her home.</p><p>Her father is still living and makes his home with her, too old to work when jobs are scarce for younger men.  He was a street cleaner for years.  But he is still useful and able, if work were given him to do.  As it is, he is an added responsibility.  There are ten people in all to be clothed and fed and housed.  As Mr. Figelo&apos;s standard of responsibility seems much lowered, the burden rests on the mother and, <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110299">299</controlpgno><printpgno>248</printpgno></pageinfo>at times, its weight lays her low.  At present, the charity organization is supplying some food each week.</p></div><div><head>CASE 100<hsep>Fellowship House<lb>KLINKHAMER<hsep>Chicago, Ill.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Cer. parentage) (M. 52; W. 52)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">2 (Carl married; Lea, 19)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Painter and Decorator<lb>Son:  Truck-Driver<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">seasonal slackness, advancing age; of son:<lb>depression</hi></hi></p><p>Mr. and Mrs. Paul Klinkhamer are of German parentage and have two grown-up sons.  Carl is married and 19-year-old Leo is a truck-driver.</p><p>The family has been known to the settlement about fifteen years.  The contact here, however, was that of educational opportunity, not relief.</p><p>In 1924, they purchased a $5,000 cottage in an outlying district of Chicago, paying $2,000 cash and the balance in monthly instalments.  Subsequently an automobile (Hup-mobile) was purchased.  At the time unemployment struck them, a mortgage of $1,700 remained on the house.</p><p>The mother is a clean, capable German woman, very active in the Fellowship House Women&apos;s Club.  She is Public Welfare Chairman of the Fourth District, Illinois Federation of Women&apos;s Clubs,&mdash;an activity which gives some indication of her intelligence.  She is uneducated but by no means illiterate.</p><p>The father is a painter and decorator with many years of experience.  This is, of course, seasonal work, but the family has always been able to weather the slack season with savings.</p><p>The father was laid off about the end of July, 1928, for six weeks, and then had employment until Thanksgiving.  By the first of April, 1929, he had lost seventeen weeks&rsquo; work.  A union painter in Chicago receives $65 per week, so that his loss this winter was about $1,100.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110300">300</controlpgno><printpgno>249</printpgno></pageinfo><p>Leo had been employed at $17 a week, but after considerable unemployment went to work at $10 a week in February, 1928, and continued at this wage until May, when he insisted upon being raised and received gradual increases until Labor Day, when he was getting $20.  This continued until about Thanksgiving, when he also lost his position because of lack of work.  He attempted to go to a commercial school where one earns as one learns, but found that the fee that would be required of him later was too great.  At the time of this study, he had secured a position in a machine shop.</p><p>The mother has helped by cooking on special occasions and by taking one or two confinement cases.</p><p>The family was able to pay all expenses until Christmas.  At that time, presents were omitted.  The alley improvement payments, union dues, etc., lapsed, and the insurance was carried by accumulated dividends.  Money was borrowed from friends to insure keeping the house, a boarder was taken in, and the use of the car was discontinued though it was not sold.  No clothing was purchased and the food budget was cut to less than $4 a week for the family of three.  The mother&apos;s knowledge of cheap foods and her culinary ability made this possible.  The teeth of Leo and his mother have been neglected, and the mother has had a minor nervous affliction (due to anxiety), but has had medical care from a friend who is a doctor.</p><p>The father became extremely discouraged.  However, he continued to look for work constantly.  His own employer and several others who knew him had no work, and others told him he was too old.  His depression caused him to neglect the tasks about the house which he was in the habit of doing.</p><p>The mother&apos;s attitude was that of extreme anxiety, which seems to have had detrimental effect on her health, but on the whole, the family has met the situation with courage.</p><p>This middle-aged couple, who have been hardworking and provident, and who are still willing and able, are not <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110301">301</controlpgno><printpgno>250</printpgno></pageinfo>able to face the future with a feeling of security and the knowledge that their old age will be comfortable.  The past winter has robbed them of their feeling of well-being, and they looked toward next winter with much fear and misgiving.</p></div><div><head>CASE 101<hsep>Omaha Social Settlement<lb>ALLER<hsep>Omaha, Neb.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Croatian</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 47; W. 37)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">16, 14, 13, 11, 9, 8</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Carpenter, also Common Laborer<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">mechanization, seasonal slackness, and advancing<lb>age</hi></hi></p><p>Mr. Aller&apos;s earnings for the past twenty years have come chiefly from the Omaha packing houses.  Twenty-two years ago he landed in New York from Croatia, 25 years old and an expert carpenter.  He had learned his trade from his father and grandfather.  He had seven years of regular schooling and additional schooling one day a week for another year.  His first year in America he entered night school and learned English.  After two years in New York as a common laborer (15 cents an hour) he came to Omaha.  His first job as a casual laborer in the packing house soon led to a more skilled job in the blacksmith shop.  Within two years he married a blue-eyed, dark-haired girl who had come from Croatia only the year before.  Mrs. Aller was from a district in the old country which was remote from any school.  She had never learned to read and write; nor has she ever learned much English in all of her eighteen years in America.</p><p>The evening of my visit, Mrs. Aller sat quietly by, smiling, but not trying to talk, as her husband told me the story for which I had asked him.  A big, quiet family sat around in the plain, neat kitchen, listening.  There were the three girls, Helen, Clara and little Bessie, and three boys, James, George and Joe.  Helen the oldest child, is now a wage-earner.  Mr. Aller himself, keen-faced and interested, was as willing to <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110302">302</controlpgno><printpgno>251</printpgno></pageinfo>talk about the hard times he had experienced of late years as about his boyhood in Croatia.</p><p>Describing those first years, Mr. Aller said that wages were low (15 cents an hour) but jobs were plentiful.  A man was not afraid to make a change.  When &ldquo;the cyclone&rdquo; came in 1913, he dropped blacksmithing for the pleasanter outside jobs which were so plentiful just then.  These presently came to an end, however, and he went back to the packing house,&mdash;this time to the carpenter-shop at 25 cents an hour.</p><p>Another two and a half years, and talk of the beet fields drew him to Minnesota.  Unfortunate venture!  With only $20 in his pocket he returned to Omaha and Armour&apos;s packing house to earn 19 cents an hour as a boiler-maker&apos;s helper.  Then the chance came to get into Swift&apos;s carpenter-shop at 25 cents an hour and he took it.  But in two months this job was done.  Another lay-off!  This was wartime and he registered, but was not called.  Then Armour&apos;s employed him in the carpenter-shop at 56 cents an hour.</p><p>By 1919 there were five children, the oldest eight.  Packing house work was monotonous, and when the house in which they were living was sold, they decided to go to the country again,&mdash;to a western Nebraska beet farm.  This summer&apos;s work brought $500 clear, the only money Mr. Aller had ever had ahead.  His brother-in-law needed a loan of $200; the remaining $300 was invested unwisely.  That was the last they saw of any of the $500.  Another brief period of employment in Swift&apos;s carpenter-shop followed and then another lay-off.</p><p>At this time, Mr. Aller decided to move his family permanently to Minnesota to do contract-farming, and for five years they stayed there,&mdash;five years of wholesome farm living and plenty to eat, but little profit.  The last year of their stay the farmer went into bankruptcy, and with no money for the entire season&apos;s work, Mr. Aller returned with his family to Omaha.</p><p>This was the time that Helen, the oldest girl, then 12 years old, first brought her mother to the settlement, <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110303">303</controlpgno><printpgno>252</printpgno></pageinfo>saying, &ldquo;Won&apos;t you help my mother find a job?&rdquo;  We did what we could then, as we have frequently since; but if work was hard to find for Mr. Aller&mdash;slender, quick, keep, an expert in his line&mdash;it was harder for his wife,&mdash;heavy-built, slow and with little or no English.  Besides, there was increasing mechanization of packing house jobs, a stricter check on efficiency and, of course, at all times the seasonal nature of the work.  When Mrs. Aller found work it seldom lasted for long.  One time she is sure she lost it through the graft of her boss.  Another woman gave him some dressed geese and was taken on while Mrs. Aller was let out!</p><p>For a number of years there has been a surplus of labor and a shortage of jobs in Omaha.  Then, too, Mr. Aller&apos;s broken service-record has placed him with the extras, who are let out when a gang is cut.  He can no longer choose his job.  When he is lucky he is in the carpenter-shop at 56 cents an hour.  At other times he must seize any chance that offers for common labor at 42&half; cents.  Even though Mr. Aller is 47, he does not look his age.  He understands, however, that from 20 to 40 are the preferred ages in a packing house.</p><p>The packing house industry is highly seasonal.  In an &ldquo;off&rdquo; season with little killing to do, hundreds of men are let out.  A month or two without wages puts a family of eight well behind.  A year ago Helen&apos;s help was needed.  She stopped school in the middle of the 9th grade to try to find work.  For some months she could find nothing.  At last she found work in a tea-room where she earns $6 a week for eight hours a day,&mdash;washing dishes, preparing vegetables, making salads and doing some cooking.  Out of this each week has had to come 80 cents carfare.  For the past eight weeks her $6 has been the family&apos;s only income.  Two days before the telling of the story, however, Mr. Aller was again taken on at Armour&apos;s carpenter-shop.  If the job continues, bills will be paid and the family will catch up again.</p><p>For the last few days, however, the children&apos;s faces have taken on their anxious look again.  Mr. Aller strained his <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110304">304</controlpgno><printpgno>253</printpgno></pageinfo>back at work, and has since been able to get about only with difficulty.  If he loses his job now!</p><p>During all these years the family&apos;s health has been good.  When money failed, the first cut came on clothes, and the next on food, but all have kept well.  At this time, as frequently as at other times in the past, any serious illness would be beyond its ability to meet.  The children&apos;s faces reflect their parents&rsquo; sober outlook on life.  In a neighborhood full of bootlegging and drinking, Mr. Aller has a record for complete sobriety.  He has always met his bills, although they have sometimes waited many months.  The children have not had money to spend on candy and movies.  They show a gentleness and refinement unusual in the neighborhood.  All but Helen are now in settlement clubs and show a desire to do the right thing.</p><p>It is to be feared that the future for the Aller family will be harder than the past.  Mr. Aller&apos;s advancing age makes this almost inevitable.  The two older girls are not fond of school.  It is a question what line of work they should be encouraged to follow.  Clara, 14, is as shy as her older sister, Helen, who seems to have little initiative and quite passive accepts her status in the tea-room kitchen, where she earns much less for longer hours than do the other girls who serve out in the dining room.  One of the boys has marked talent for drawing; another for manual training.  It is a question how far any of them can go in school.</p></div><div><head>CASE 102<hsep>Denison House<lb>NEJIB<hsep>Boston, Mass.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Syrian</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M &amp; W about 44)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chin</hi>:  <hi rend="italics">24, 23, 19, 16, 14, 11, 9, 7, 4, 3</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Peddler<lb>Unemployment Reported Due</hi> to:<lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>Mr. and Mrs. Nejib were married in Syria in 1903.  The two oldest daughters were born there.  In 1905, they came to <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110305">305</controlpgno><printpgno>254</printpgno></pageinfo>the United States and were known to this settlement soon after.  There are ten children; Rose, 24; Mary, 23; George, 19; Mitchell, 16; Allen, 14; Eleanor, 11; Charles, 9; Lily, 7; Laurice, 4; Robert, 3.</p><p>The father has been the chief breadwinner.  He is a peddler and during the winter months earns about $15 to $18 a week.  Mary has worked seven years; Rose two or three years.  The mother has worked occasionally this winter.  Mitchell contributes $5 a week.</p><p>Mr. Nejib has had very little education.  He can read and write a little English.</p><p>When there is no financial strain the family is a very happy and united one.  The parents are willing and wise providers.  The children are neat and clean, well-fed and well-behaved.  They are all very keen and interested in many things.  The mother is very ambitious for them, especially along intellectual lines, and encourages them in very way to do well in their studies and to seek whatever opportunities are possible for them.  Those who are not able to do well at school and keep up their other interests are made to give up the latter, such as basketball, etc., and in the case of Mitchell, who never was a good student, he was compelled to stop school and go to work as an errand boy.  This is regarded as a great disgrace.</p><p>The difficulty of selling goods is present every year between Christmas and spring and has been increased this year probably because of the general business depression and also because it has been impossible to keep the auto which Mr. Nejib has since 1922.  This had facilitated his covering more territory and reaching more customers.</p><p>Malnutrition of Charlie was the first indication of the present condition.  Investigation showed inadequate meals for all and in some cases the clothing was not as well kept up as usual.  The shoes were thin, etc.</p><p>Because of the strain of having to work as well as look after the large family, the mother&apos;s health suffered greatly. <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110306">306</controlpgno><printpgno>255</printpgno></pageinfo>She is in a highly nervous condition, and has been unable to attend to defective teeth.  She has developed a severe gastric disturbance and is now facing a possible operation.  The oldest unmarried daughter has tried to help at home, and by working has overstrained her heart, being now a chronic invalid.  The children as a whole show a decided reaction to the nervous tension of the home environment, the father being also very nervous and having at times a violent temper.</p><p>Until the present time it has been possible for the family to carry the expenses without incurring heavy debts.  There has been no lapse of rent, but it has been necessary for the mother to go to work the older children had to help at home whenever possible without interfering with their education.  There has been no help received from any agency.</p><p>Inability to support the family adequately has had a bad psychological effect upon the father.  He has been courageous in the way he has met his problems, working hard, helping at home and not seeking aid from church or agencies.  He has, however, lost his self-respect to marked degree, denying himself proper clothes and going about in an untidy, unkempt condition and in a rather hang-dog manner.  He has grown very morose and nervous, and subject to sudden bursts of temper.  He and his wife have never been well adjusted to one another and the economic situation has very much aggravated this, so that is almost constant friction which starts by bickering about food. In talking about the situation, each blames the other, and absolutely denies any loss of temper, etc. on his or her own part. This friction has had a bad psychological effect on each of them and on the children as well.</p><p>Mrs. Nejib, who has always been a rather high-strung, ambitious person, and a great talker, has recently been driven almost to a frenzy of nervousness about the children and especially about the condition of Mary, who she feels will soon die of heart disease.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110307">307</controlpgno><printpgno>256</printpgno></pageinfo><p>She has been so repentant of having allowed Mary to work so hard that she has gone to the other extreme of not allowing her to do anything to help, even at home, and has lavished so much sympathy and affection upon her that there has been a definite mother and daughter fixation developed, resulting in a serious neurotic condition in Mary.</p><p>The other children have not shown any definite reactions other than the tendency to take sides and have a more critical attitude toward one or the other of the parents than they had formerly shown.  The atmosphere this winter has been decidedly unwholesome for all, at times being highly charged with friction and tension, and although there has been no outstanding problem of delinquency or the like, it is obvious that each is laboring under a great handicap and there is a grave danger of a really promising family&apos;s being completely disrupted.</p><p>In an interview with George (the boy at college) he gave the following facts and revealed his attitude toward the family situation.</p><p>During a period of depression six years ago, the oldest daughter, Rose, eloped and has done nothing to help the family since.  The marriage was regarded as a great tragedy partly because the man was considered undesirable even though comfortably situated, and largely because she was considered too young to marry and was still needed at home for her own development and to help with the others.</p><p>Mary was compelled to work before she had finished high school and completed the last two years at night school.  She was cut off from all social contacts and normal recreational opportunities and had no interests to fall back on when her health broke, which naturally left her an easy prey to a neurotic overemphasis of her invalidism.  She is a clever, ambitious girl with a very pleasing personality and was earning $40 to $50 a week, in very good establishments, and had great promise for her future.</p><p>George, instead of going to Boston University, would like <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110308">308</controlpgno><printpgno>257</printpgno></pageinfo>to have gone to Harvard Law School.  He was always been an excellent student and is determined to finish his legal training.  All athletic and recreational opportunities he has put completely aside and he devotes himself entirely to his studies, his work and his home.  He does enough outside work to carry his own expenses and helps with the heavy work about the home.</p><p>Had there not been the financial strain, Mitchell would have stayed to finish high school at least.  As it is, he stopped in his second year, which will be a handicap to him always, according to George.</p><p>Allen is desirous of college training, but there is a great question whether he will be able to obtain it.  He wishes to be a teacher.</p><p>Charles is a brilliant student and will undoubtedly, with George&apos;s help, get college training, but he is not rugged physically and there is a question as to how much strain he can stand.</p><p>George is anxious that the girls should have more education opportunities than the Syrian girls usually get and that they should do more than just have house or factory work.</p></div><div><head>CASE 103<hsep>Lincoln House<lb>MURPHY<hsep>Boston, Mass.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Irish</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 42; W. 45)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">15&half;, 14, 9&half;, 5&half;, 3&half;, 2&half;</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Freight Handler on Railroad<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>Mr. and Mrs. Murphy have been our neighbor for years. Acquaintance with them was made by the little Murphys, George and Dan, eternally running in and out of the house at all hours of the day.  A call on Mrs. Murphy led me <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110309">309</controlpgno><printpgno>258</printpgno></pageinfo>into a home of five rooms spotlessly clean, kept by a little woman with the soil of Ireland not long off the soles of her feet and the brogue still on her tongue.  Apparently, at that time, she had little to worry her.  As the years went by, the babies came fairly regularly, and Mrs. Murphy&apos;s burden became heavier and heavier.  Never a word of complaint until about two years ago when her husband lost his job!  By this time, there were six children,&mdash;only one of lawful working age, and he finding it most difficult to get work.  The father of the family is a man who plods along faithfully.  He earned $25 a week when steadily employed and was out of steady work for eighteen months.</p><p>At the time of his unemployment, there was a general business depression and the railroad where he had worked as freight handler for the past eight years laid off workers, giving the old employees one or two days&rsquo; work as business warranted, with a promise of renewed steady employment when business picked up.  Possibly the surety of work for a day or two a week, together with the promise of steady work, weakened his initiative.  Be that as it may, he made less and less effort as the months dragged on.  Mrs. Murphy divulged none of this struggle until after about ten months, when she became desperate and came to the settlement for advice.</p><p>Mr. Murphy had always been a moderate drinker, but now, with more time on his hands, drank heavily and, according to his wife, for the first time became really cruel to the children.  At this time, Mrs. Murphy came for assistance in managing Mr. Murphy.  The treatment was effective and for a time he behaved fairly well, but was unhappy and helpless and literally work could not be found that he could do.  At a subsequent drunken outbreak, the oldest boy went for the police.  This quiet, self-respecting family (and the wife is in constant dread of neighbors&rsquo; tongues) was embarrassed by their family affairs&rsquo; being cause for public comment.  During this period of unemployment, <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110310">310</controlpgno><printpgno>259</printpgno></pageinfo>Mr. Murphy incurred an accident during his occasional day&apos;s work, for which he received accident insurance of $50.  Mrs. Murphy in her inimitable Irish was almost indicated that the accident was a good send!  The oldest boy was taken out of school, and after many months, finally secured work in a restaurant at $8 a week, which has now been raised to $12.  The next oldest got errand boy&apos;s work after school, and finally steady employment at $10 a week.  In addition, one of the younger children illegally hopped on and off cars selling papers.  Into an all too-crowded home was taken a boarder.  Every means was taken, except the mother&apos;s going out of the home to work, to keep things going.  Their savings of $100 were soon used up.  What was left after the rent and insurance were paid was used for food and clothing.  Though the children did not starve, the food was insufficient, the worry terrific and the clothing none too warm.  The wife&apos;s irritation at having her husband about all day undoubtedly crept into the whole atmosphere of the house.</p><p>The wages of this family have always been so meagre that there has never been any expectation of the children&apos;s going ahead after they reached the working age and there has not been any great amount of ambition for anything except comfortable living.  The mother, a splendid housekeeper, has been disappointed in not being able to move to a better locality and better conditions of housing.  It seems, however, that the greatest loss has come from the awful sense of insecurity, with no prospects for a comfortable and independent old age if the members of the family could not have steady work, decently paid.  While the boys&rsquo; wages are unduly low, Mrs. Murphy says that she is so afraid of what may happen to them if they are unemployed that she is unwilling for them to drop their present low-paid employment and look for better jobs.</p></div><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110311">311</controlpgno><printpgno>260</printpgno></pageinfo><div><head>CASE 104<hsep>Chicago Commons<lb>TOPOLSKI<hsep>Chicago, Ill.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Polish</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 48; W. 46)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">3 older chn. in Poland, 3 younger<lb>Chn: 14, 12, 9</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Laborer on Railroad<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>John and Mary Topolski, besides their three older children in Poland, have three children in this country,&mdash;Angeline, 14; Helen, 12, and Rose, 9.</p><p>They live in five rooms for which they pay $16 a month rent.  The rooms are light and airy and Mrs. Topolski keeps them clean and neat.  Neither of the parents drinks.  Mr. Topolski is a laborer on the railroad for which he has worked ever since he came to this country in 1913.  The Commons has known the family for a year, but every intimately the last six months.  The children attend clubs and cooking classes.</p><p>Mrs. Topolski came to the United States in 1910 while her husband and three children stayed in Poland, where the grandmother cared for them.  This arrangement was made because all the family felt that the father could more easily support the family in Poland than the mother, and that, on the other hand, Mrs. Topolski would find it fairly easy to earn passage money in the United States for her husband.</p><p>By 1913 she had put aside enough money for her husband&apos;s passage and he came to this country that year.  It was their intention to send for the children and grandmother the following year, but the breaking out of the World War made this plan impossible.  The three older children therefore are still in Poland.</p><p>During the period of the war, Mr. Topolski earned very good wages and the family saved a good sum.  The three younger girls were born here and the mother stayed at home <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110312">312</controlpgno><printpgno>261</printpgno></pageinfo>to care for them and her home.  After the close of the war, Mr. Topolski&apos;s wages began to decrease and he worked more or less irregularly, sometimes only three days a week.  The family were compelled to draw upon their savings, which caused considerable mental anguish because the parents hoped to bring the children from Poland as soon as conditions would permit.</p><p>In 1921, when Rose Topolski was 2 and Helen, 5, and Angeline, 7, Mrs. Topolski placed the two youngest in a nursery and began to do day work several days a week.  As the nursery could not take care of children over six, Angeline had to shift for herself under such care as the neighbors could give her.</p><p>From 1921 on, Mrs. Topolski has worked a few days a week to supplement the family income and the family got along fairly well, drawing upon their savings in emergencies.  In the fall of 1928 conditions became more acute.  Work became very irregular and for several weeks Mr. Topolski worked only three days a week.  Finally he was laid off and was out of work more than four months.</p><p>This crisis came at a time when the family needed money very badly.  The oldest girl is a problem child, with whom the family has been having difficulty since she was eight, a year after the mother began working outside the home.  The girl is now in the adolescent stage with all its particular needs and desires which the Institute for Juvenile Research states must be satisfied if the girl is to make a satisfactory adjustment.  Friction between the mother and child has arisen because the mother is unable to give the girl money for the little things she wants and should have.  Many irritating and distressing incidents have occurred because of the shortage of money.  For instance, the child&apos;s shoes were worn out and beyond repair.  For several weeks she wore galoshes until they too gave out.  Desperate, Mrs. Topolski walked several miles to the home of a relative for aid and the sister gathered up all the shoes of her 16-year-old daughter that she could spare.  The visitor found Mrs. <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110313">313</controlpgno><printpgno>262</printpgno></pageinfo>Topolski at home, surrounded by twenty-five worn-out, high-heeled slippers, figuring on how to get one pair of shoes out of the mess for Angeline.  The girl came running in full of hope, and burst into tears at the sight.</p><p>Though the family paid only $16 a month rent, the mother felt she must move to cheaper quarters and began to look for them.  Fortunately the father was reinstated at fairly regular work before the family had moved.</p><p>They are now trying to get back to normal and pay the debts contracted with the grocer and the butcher and to save enough to tide them over the next period of depression.</p><p>The mother regrets the fact that she will be unable to give the girls the education they need if their situation in later life is to be more stable than hers.  She feels that it will be necessary for the oldest girl to go to work to help the family as soon as she finishes the 8th grade in June.  The second girl is very much interested in her school work, but the mother sees no prospect of being able to send her on to the high school.</p><p>Mrs. Topolski is very frail and worn out, and is in no condition to work hard, cleaning floors on her knees, but she keeps on.  Her great desire is to send for her youngest son, who is finishing his last year of service in the Polish Army, but she is afraid she will never be able to do this.</p></div><div><head>CASE 105<hsep>Calvary Point Community House<lb>EDWARDS<hsep>Louisville, Ky.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.<lb>Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">12, 10, 7, 3, 11 mos.</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Ironworker<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">seasonal slackness</hi></hi></p><p>The Edwards family consists of James and Hattie Edwards with their five children.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110314">314</controlpgno><printpgno>263</printpgno></pageinfo><p>&ldquo;I wouldn&apos;t mind it so much if it weren&apos;t fer the way my husban&rsquo; takes it.  He jest sits aroun&rsquo; the house lookin&rsquo; so disgusted.  He&apos;s walked the streets so long lookin&rsquo; fer work that he&apos;s just plain tired of it.  He don&rsquo; know &lsquo;xactly what to do.  He worries me with his worryin&apos;.  Last summer we got alon&rsquo; fine when he was workin&rsquo; on the bridge, but he ain&apos;t had but a few days&rsquo; work for months now.&rdquo;</p><p>The Edwards family, a typical American family of the working class, has been known to the settlement house for over two years.  In that time, the workers at the house have seen the Edwardses change from a happy, rather prosperous little family into a disgruntled group of individuals.</p><p>Mr. Edwards is an ironworker, a trade that he has &ldquo;just picked up workin&rsquo; aroun&rsquo; fixin&rsquo; pipes&rdquo; some time ago at the Louisville Gas and Electric.  Having been laid off several years ago, he has found employment from time to time in bridge-building across the Ohio River.  At this work, up to the time of the freezing this fall, he made as high as $1.37 an hour.  The family, during this period, lived in a neat, three-room cottage in a prosperous, comfortable way.  But bridge-building is seasonal work and when ice caked the Ohio and the heavy rains and snows set in, this type of work stopped.  There are occasional good days when the men can earn a few dollars.  But these are not frequent enough to allow Edwards to average $5 a week.  Mrs. Edwards said, &ldquo;We&apos;ve kept up the insurance enough to keep it from lapsin&rsquo; and that&apos;s all.  We owe an awful grocery bill.  ... He never works long enough on a stretch fer me to save more&apos;n a few dollars with the children an&rsquo; all.  I worked for a while over at the cordage mills doin&rsquo; night work, but I had to look after my family durin&rsquo; the day an&rsquo;, you know, my baby was only six months old then.  I couldn&apos;t sleep in the day with the washin&rsquo; an&rsquo; all, so I got sick an&rsquo; had to quit.&rdquo;</p><p>Recently Mr. Edward&apos;s aged mother and father have come to live with the family.  Each of these old people receives $15 a month from the government for the death of <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110315">315</controlpgno><printpgno>264</printpgno></pageinfo>a son in the World War.  Of this sum, they give the Edwardses $20.  A niece and nephew have also come recently to live with them.  The niece works at night in the cordage mills and the nephew in the lumber yards at night.  Both of these young people are sleeping in the daytime in the same rooms in which the rest of the family lives.  With the five Edwards children, there are now eleven people living in the little home.  The mother is finding it exceedingly difficult to keep this number of people fed and well on the pittance she receives a month.  The Family Service has given slight assistance at intervals.  Two of the younger children are receiving free milk from the settlement.  The baby, who is delicate, has been given medical care through free clinics.  &ldquo;It&apos;s gettin&rsquo; terrible hard to get the children off to school.  It&apos;s hard fer me to get them the clothes that they need to wear.  They can&apos;t have all they want for breakfast an&rsquo; they get irritable.  I&apos;ve had to stop the regular milkman, and I just buy a bottle now and then at the grocery.  Louise (3 years old) gets milk at the Community House, so I don&apos;t have to worry so much about her, James is the oldes&rsquo; and he&apos;s only twelve, so there&apos;s not much chance of gettin&rsquo; any help from them for a long time.  Virginia&mdash;she&apos;s ten&mdash;wanted to take piano lessons at the Community House last winter, but I couldn&apos;t spare the fifteen cents they charge fer lessons.  I&apos;d like to come to the Mother&apos;s Club you have over there, but I&apos;ve got to be home all hours to fix meals for the boarders.  I don&rsquo; get out much any more.  Just stay aroun&rsquo; the house.&rdquo;</p><p>Mrs. Edwards&rsquo; morale is breaking under the burden.  &ldquo;I got married when I was sixteen.  I see my mistake, but it&apos;s too late now.  Lookin&rsquo; after a house an&rsquo; a crowd of children is too much.&rdquo;</p><p>Only an early spring that will make work possible for Edwards can save the situation for the family.</p></div><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110316">316</controlpgno><printpgno>265</printpgno></pageinfo><div><head>CASE 106<hsep>Alta House<lb>SAUSEVERRA<hsep>Cleveland, Ohio</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Ital.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 45; W. 44)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">15, 13, 12, 10, 8, 6, 4, 3</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Laborer<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">mechanization and depression</hi></hi></p><p>This story deals with the family of Thomas Sauseverra.  Both Thomas and his wife, Mary, were born in Messina.  They have eight children:  Sam, 15; Rose, 13; Violet, 12; Margaret, 10; Billy, 8; John, 6; Tony, 4, and Joe, 3.</p><p>The father is an unskilled laborer, doing light factory or shop work.  He can read and write a little Italian, but little or no English.  His wages are small at best, but Mrs. Sauseverra is a thrifty manager.</p><p>Business slowing up and the installation of some machinery brought about the lack of employment in Mr. Sauseverra&apos;s case.  He is well, but not of the husky, hard-laboring type.  He would not be able to stand continued work outside which would necessitate long exposure in bad weather.  A few days of work have been secured, but as he is unskilled, the pay was small.</p><p>This is quite a remarkable family in respect to the situation brought about by six months of unemployment.  They refuse to become gloomy or downcast.  The home, small and crowded, is generally disordered but not dirty.  The furniture is large and strong.  The gay curtains and covers for chairs give the home a cheerful atmosphere.  When we visit the home all work stops and the entire family gathers around to hear what is being said and the children explain to the mother what she does not understand.</p><p>The Associated Charities, who have been asked to help, aided the father in securing work when possible; he has also registered with the city employment agencies.  But debts have piled up.  The insurance is only partially kept up, food and coal are not paid for and the rent is not paid on time.  The <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110317">317</controlpgno><printpgno>266</printpgno></pageinfo>family has had to move into smaller quarters at a saving of $5 a month.  This has resulted in much more crowded living,&mdash;two rooms being used for sleeping rooms for ten people, the one other becomes kitchen, dining room, sitting room, laundry, and since it is the only warm room, the children study, dress and undress here.</p><p>In spite of overcrowding, an extremely limited diet, barely enough clothing and consequent curtailment of time spent out doors, the general health of the family remains nearly normal.  There is less resistance to changes of weather and the children have been out of school for a larger number of days on account of colds.  The younger ones of kindergarten and play school ages have been unable to attend at all because any money for coats or sweaters had to be spent for the older ones.</p><p>An operation and case of pneumonia were taken care of at the City Hospital, upon the recommendation of the Associated Charities.  These children were somewhat slower convalescing than would have been the case had they been able to have less crowded quarters and better diet.  Teeth in several cases have been cared for by the school clinic.  The mother has begun to show signs of strain and hard work.</p><p>The father is not inclined to worry, but he is not lazy.  Frequent periods of from two to six months of unemployment, however, have made him quite willing to ask for assistance.  The children will accept anything offered to them; the older ones have no reluctance about telling how poor they are, or how many things are not paid for.  So far no one of the children is old enough to work, and they are so used to being in debt that they do not seem to react to it except recognizing the fact that they have to get along without many things when &ldquo;father has no work.&rdquo;</p><p>Any group activities in either school or settlement which would necessitate the payment of a fee, however small, are not possible, and they have no other recreation.  It will not be possible for the children to go to high school, unless the situation is much improved during the year.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110318">318</controlpgno><printpgno>267</printpgno></pageinfo><p>Sam, who is 15, peddles nuts of various kinds around the neighborhood and spends much of his time out of school in the so-called &ldquo;soft drink&rdquo; places,&mdash;in reality bootleggers&rsquo; places.  He goes from one to another, wherever there are men gathered in the pool rooms and cigar stores&mdash;to sell his nuts.  Sam is becoming difficult to manage and is selfish with the money he earns form his nuts.</p></div><div><head>CASE 107<hsep>Family Welfare Society<lb>DAVIS<hsep>Atlanta, Ga.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 38; W. 36)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">14, 13, 10, 7, 5, 1&half;</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Farmer; then Carpenter<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">crop failure, seasonal slackness, general depression</hi></hi></p><p>The Davis family has been known to the Family Welfare Society since December, 1923.  The breadwinner is a carpenter whose people were tenant farmers.  He was a farmer himself for some years after his marriage.  As it was hard to make a living farming on shares and the boll weevil destroyed the cotton crops, the family moved to the city about seven years ago.  Mr. Davis had had some experience doing carpenter work in the country and worked as a helper until he became expert.  He has never joined a union.  He received a grammar school education in a country school.</p><p>The family consists of Mr. and Mrs. Davis and their four girls and two boys.</p><p>They lived comfortably but frugally on his $15 to $20 a week in the suburbs before being struck by unemployment, but Mr. Davis&rsquo; work has always been seasonal.  During the last two years, the general business depression has caused him to be out of work for about five months each winter with the exception of a few temporary laboring jobs.</p><p>The family becomes heavily involved in debt during the winters.  They deal with one grocer until credit is stopped, <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110319">319</controlpgno><printpgno>268</printpgno></pageinfo>then go to another, and finally owe five or six large grocery bills, which take a summer of great economy to clear up. They are always in arrears with the rent, although when they have any money, they recognize this as one of their first obligations.  This necessitates frequent moving.  Several times Mr. Davis has obtained free house rent for a period in return for repairs put on the house, or in return for allowing some of the rooms to be used for storage.  A year ago all the insurance for the family was dropped, although there had only been a small industrial policy on each member.</p><p>Mrs. Davis, although frail, does the washing for another family, earning $1 weekly.  The 14-year-old girl went to work in a mill for three weeks at Christmas time, but the school attendance officer made her return to school.</p><p>The Family Society has helped a great deal during the last two winters with fuel, clothing and food, and had to help to a lesser extent for two winters previously.  On one of these occasions, relief was necessary because of Mrs. Davis&rsquo; illness.</p><p>The family has little change of diet.  They are unable to get fruit and cannot afford many fresh vegetables in winter.  As the family keeps a cow, the children have milk and appear healthy, but the mother and father have lost weight and show the strain of their struggle to make ends meet.  All their clothes are very ragged and the children could not attend school if shoes were not provided from outside sources.  Dentistry and medical attention must be provided through charity, as well as help with school books.</p><p>The mother is nervous but appears to have good control over her nerves.</p><p>Mr. Davis seems to have become very discouraged, and to have lost his initiative to a considerable extent in finding work.  At first he showed a much greater reluctance to seek help from outside sources than he does now.  He is honest and will if possible pay his debts, but the Family Society feels that this sense of responsibility is being slowly undermined.  He continually asks the worker if she knows of any <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110320">320</controlpgno><printpgno>269</printpgno></pageinfo>other than who has tried as hard as he to find work, and yet failed.  Mrs. Davis seems discouraged and worn.</p><p>The oldest child, a girl of fourteen, will graduate from grammar school this spring.  The parents feel that it will be necessary for her to go to work in cotton mil, although she does excellent school work, and is capable of taking a business training.  The girl, being of a placid disposition, does not resent this.  The younger children, although ragged, do not seem to feel their position keenly as yet.  They tell the worker, however, that they have never in their lives seen a motion picture and that they do not remember when last they had candy.</p><p>There is a great family solidarity in this particular family.  The members have always seemed devoted to one another.</p><p>Neither the children nor the parents get any recreation whatever.  They are even ashamed to go to church and Sunday School on account of their shabby clothing.  In times of illness they must have free treatment or none at all.  The children will have to support the parents when they become old and incapacitated.  In case of death, a pauper burial is all that could be arranged.</p><p>The children, although bright and attractive, have nothing to look forward to except to leave school when old enough to keep within the law, and go to work in a cotton mill or a factory or do laboring work.</p></div><div><head>CASE 108<hsep>110th St. Neighborhood Club<lb>ZAPPULA<hsep>New York City, N. Y.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Ital.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M, 36; W,  33)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">6, 5, 4, 3, 11 mos.</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Laborer</hi> <hi rend="italics">(building trades)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">seasonal slackness</hi></hi></p><p>The Zappulas were both born in Italy, and while Mrs. Zappula never learned any English, she adapted herself quickly to American ways of living.  She is a good little <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110321">321</controlpgno><printpgno>270</printpgno></pageinfo>housekeeper and has many small conveniences in the way of cooking utensils, etc.</p><p>The father is a laborer in one of the building trades, and used to have fairly steady work.  With great irregularity in building here this year, Mr. Zappula could not &ldquo;catch a building&rdquo; from September until January, even though he was in good standing in his union.  Finding that he belonged to a union where the wife of one of the officers belonged to our Woman&apos;s Club, we appealed to this woman in behalf of the five small children.  She spoke to her husband and got Mr. Zappula work, which lasted three weeks (in January) until his particular kind of work on that building was finished.  In February, only two days of work were found.  The first of March he secured work again, but he has no idea how long it will last.</p><p>The family used all its savings.  The children were dressed badly, and the food was meagre.  Neighbors lent them money, always counting on a building&apos;s being &ldquo;caught.&rdquo;  When pay day came during the three weeks in which Mr. Zappula had work, his neighbors hastened to call in the evening, and he was distracted, wondering whom to pay first.</p><p>The mother now did all her washing instead of using the &ldquo;wet wash.&rdquo;  She carried up the coal to the fifth floor flat to save expense.  She also bought stale bread, going a great distance for it, and carried heavy bundles home.  All the children caught cold and were ill.</p><p>Finally Mrs. Zappula came down with rheumatic fever.  She has been taken to a hospital and the children have been sent to &ldquo;shelter&rdquo; where the settlement is paying for them.</p><p>Mr. Zappula is cross and disagreeable because he has no work.  He sits and sulks and drinks and (until Mrs. Zappula fell ill) watched his wife work.  The wife worried and looked years older; the children fretted and quarreled.</p><p>The neighbors looked after the children, and event went to the hospital with Mrs. Zappula to act as interpreters where necessary.  With Mrs. Zappula in the hospital, the children <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110322">322</controlpgno><printpgno>271</printpgno></pageinfo>away, and Mr. Zappula with work again, there is a chance that the Zappula will catch up, at least temporarily.</p><p>However, this prospect of catching up at the moment gives no guarantee that the same financial situation will not be repeated next winter.  It was only because the mother was actually in the hospital that it was possible to get the children into shelters.  There is no security for such a family while conditions of employment in all the building trades are so uncertain.</p></div><div><head>CASE 109<hsep>Denison House<lb>ATHAS<hsep>Boston, Mass.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Grk.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. &amp; W. in their 30&apos;s)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">11, 8, 5, 2</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Silk Factory Worker; Fruit-Peddler;<lb>Then Plumber&apos;s Helper<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>Peter and Julia Athas have four children: Stella, 11; Christo, 8; Charles, 5, and Esther, 2.</p><p>Peter was the only breadwinner until the time when their savings were nearly spent and it became necessary for Mrs. Athas to work.</p><p>Peter came to this country when he was 19 years old.  He was brought up on a farm so that he came here without any trade.  He was employed in a silk factory in Lowell for several years, but the idea of being in business for himself appealed to him so strongly that he moved the family to Boston about six years ago and began peddling fruit.  He was successful at first, especially in the summer.  His profits varied, but he was able to save.  Then peddling became less profitable until the maintenance of this horse exceeded the returns from the business.  He sold the horse nearly two years ago (in 1927) and worked irregularly with a plumber.  However, for the past year, he has had no employment.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110323">323</controlpgno><printpgno>272</printpgno></pageinfo><p>The family had savings which took care of them until about six months ago; then the mother began working, cleaning pullman cars in the train yards.  She left home at 6.30 a.m.  The two younger children were boarded with relatives in Cambridge while the two older children came home from school to get their lunch in an unheated house.  Mrs. Athas is very proud and will not permit the family to contract any debts.  Her earnings of $19 to $20 a week have made it possible for the rent to be paid and she pays cash for everything.</p><p>Since the first week of March, Mr. Athas has been working without wages in order to learn the shoe trade and hopes to acquire sufficient skill to get a job.</p><p>Mrs. Athas has aged perceptibly since she began working.  Her shoulders have become rounded and she is very fatigued.  She gets up at 6 a.m., leaves home at 6.30, taken her lunch with her, and returns at 4 p.m. to do the housework and cooking for the evening meal.</p><p>During the winter months, the house is very cold because the mother is afraid to have Stella make a fire in the range, and the children wait in a cold room until the mother comes home.</p><p>Mrs. Athas is the one who has had the courage and fortitude.  Her husband is plump and placid, but the change of the r&ocirc;le of breadwinner has been a cause of irritation between them.  The children are conscious of the situation and refer to their mother as the one who earns the money at their house.</p><p>The home is poorly kept and disorderly.  Saturday is the only day that the family is together, the mother working on Sunday.  The younger children are growing up away from their parents and Charlie has not been sent to school.  Stella shows the effect very little, but Christo is becoming difficult to manage.</p><p>The mother has no recreation, no opportunity to continue her English classes, and her work on Sunday makes it impossible for her to attend church.  But she declares that she <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110324">324</controlpgno><printpgno>273</printpgno></pageinfo>is willing to do anything to have her children educated and properly fitted for work.</p></div><div><head>CASE 110<hsep>South Chicago Center<lb>TAYLOR<hsep>Chicago, Ill.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Engl. parentage) (M. 37; W. 38)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">13, 11, 8, 3 in 1924 (at time of<lb>remarriage)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Skilled Steel-Worker; Inspector<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>It was Sunday afternoon and the children were playing joyfully in the street as I stopped in front of the home of Mr. Taylor, I noticed the shades were down to indicate that no one was at home.  It was the same sight that confronted our visitor during the past four months when she had never once gained admission.  I mediated for a few minutes, then decided to try to gain admission by going around to the back door.  As I passed around by the side window the shade was up and the house appeared to be empty.  From the rear window I saw the kitchen table and on it a few used dishes.  The connections were there, but the cooking stove had been taken away.</p><p>I knocked at the door and waited and then knocked a second and a third time.  At last Mr. Taylor came to the door and invited me in.  He excused the appearance of the house and said he had been thinking about me.  He offered me the better of the only two chairs in sight in the two rooms.  When we were seated, I asked him how he was getting along.  He said, &ldquo;I am trying to decide what to do, whether to try again or to give up.  I would like your advice.&rdquo;  After talking for a while, I told him  would like him to tell me of his unemployment.  The facts of his story are given below.</p><p>Mr. Taylor, of English parentage, was born in Pennsylvania.  His educational advantages were limited.  He very early began as a laborer and learned the mechanics of the <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110325">325</controlpgno><printpgno>274</printpgno></pageinfo>steel industry.  For about five years he was employed by a steel company in Cleveland, Ohio, his special work being that of heating sheet bars.  This type of work was extremely hot and heavy.  For the good of his health, he had to give up his position.  He came to South Chicago about the first of August, 1924.  In September, 1924, he married Mrs. Taylor, who was a window with four children,&mdash;Elmer, 13; Vivian, 11; Harry, 8; George, 3.  In October, 1924, he secured employment at the &ldquo;A&rdquo; steel Company as inspector at $4.56 per day.  After about one month on account of his lengthy experience, he was placed in a new mill at $5 per day.  He then drew from $30 to $55 per week, depending on the overtime.  After a year and a half he was promoted to the position of testing engineer and was put on the monthly payroll at $150 per month.  Promises were given from time to time of another raise in salary.  The salary he was already receiving was more than the foreman received.  This, together with the fact that many men under him and spent a greater number of years in the service of the company without such promotion, caused jealousy.  Five different men had authority to give orders to Mr. Taylor&mdash;the foreman, assistant chief inspector, chief inspector, chief chemist and the superintendent of the inspection and metallurgy departments.  During this period from September, 1924, to March, 1927, Mr. Taylor had been to support his family comfortably and to secure for them many educational advantages.  On March 7, 1927, the superintendent of the inspection and metallurgy departments asked Mr. Taylor to give up his position.  When he went to the assistant general superintendent of the plant to secure his signature, he was refused and told he was to continue on the job.  As the superintendent of inspection and metallurgy departments did not succeed in discharging him, he asked him to resign without giving any cause for his action and gave him an excellent recommendation.</p><p>In August, 1926 (eight months before leaving the company), Mr. Taylor received an injury to his hand while at <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110326">326</controlpgno><printpgno>275</printpgno></pageinfo>work, which was attended to at the time by the company doctor.  His hand had never got well because of the fact that a sliver of steel or some other substance was overlooked by the doctor and still caused him considerable pain.  On leaving the company he asked to have his hand cared for.  This the officials agreed to do and stated that they would allow him compensation until his hand as well.  About a week later the company doctor operated on his hand and after about four weeks, pronounced his hand well.  For this period of time he was given $17.64 compensation.</p><p>After looking around for about three weeks, Mr. Taylor secured work with the &ldquo;B&rdquo; steel company.  During the period of time that he was being treated by the doctor from the &ldquo;A&rdquo; steel company and looking for work, a period of about two months, expenses took all the savings.  As the &ldquo;B&rdquo; steel company pays only twice a month it was necessary to run bills until the first pay was received.  When Mr. Taylor was with the company only about two months, work began to get slack and as a new man was among the first to be laid off.  At the time he saw an &ldquo;ad&rdquo; in the paper for a foreman in a Milwaukee plant.  Receiving a favorable reply to his application, he went immediately to Milwaukee, but upon his arrival found that the position had been filled.  After out of work about a month, he secured a position with the &ldquo;C&rdquo; factory at a salary of $22.50 per week.  About December 15, 1927, he was asked to come back to the &ldquo;B&rdquo; steel company, which he did.</p><p>By that time a number of bills had accumulated and he had taken a loan on his furniture.  After his first pay at this position, his creditors began to garnish his wages.  About the first of March, 1928, Mr. Taylor had the flu, and was unable to work for about three weeks.  He needed help and if the club into which he had been paying regular does had given him assistance in the form of a small loan, he would have been able to meet the bills that were urgent and could have kept on with the work and held his position.  After promising him a loan, the secretary of the club later <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110327">327</controlpgno><printpgno>276</printpgno></pageinfo>told him they would not help him.  As his wages were garnished, the paymaster refused to give him any part of his pay and since he could not meet his bills the labor superintendent told him he could not work.  This left him without money to pay any of his bills and without employment.  He was unable to secure food for his family.  They went days without enough food.  On May 15, Mr. Taylor went to the Social Service Department of the police station and was told they could not assist him and was sent to the charities.  There he was refused help.  He went again to the &ldquo;B&rdquo; steel company to see if he could draw some portion of his wage due and was refuged.  He then went to a settlement where emergency relief was given, and a loan provided to save his home, and employment secured at &ldquo;D&rdquo; steel company.  This position was some distance from his home and Mr. Taylor had a difficult time getting back and forth, picking up a ride when possible, usually walking five or six miles of the way.  The trip was so difficult that, after three weeks, he found it necessary to give up his position and secured employment with an equipment company as pump engineer.  This position was only for the summer.  October, 1928, found him again without employment.  He went again to &ldquo;D&rdquo; steel company and secured employment at 62&half; cents per hour.  This lasted about a month, until four miles were shut down and Mr. Taylor was laid off until further notice.</p><p>On November 23, he was out looking for work and a truck-driver gave him a ride home.  When getting off the truck he slipped and fell, injuring his arm and jaw.  His broken jaw became infected and he was taken to the county hospital where he was treated for a number of weeks.  He did not receive employment again until March 18, 1929.</p><p>During this period of unemployment Mr. Taylor and his family were given assistance from the county and the charities.</p><p>Electricity and gas were shut off in January and they have had neither in the house since.  At that time the oldest girl, 15, left home.  The oldest boy had previously left.  Mr. Taylor <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110328">328</controlpgno><printpgno>277</printpgno></pageinfo>is now physically weak.  Mrs. Taylor is badly in needed of medical attention.  Since Mr. Taylor was forced to resign in 1927, he and his family have been unable to secure necessary clothing or to keep the furnishing of their home in presentable condition.</p><p>Mr. Taylor is completely discouraged and feels that it is hardly worth while attempting to go ahead.</p></div><div><head>CASE 111<hsep>Neighborhood House<lb>GIAIMO<hsep>Madison, Wis.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Ital.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(widower)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">6 ranging from 6 to 16 yrs.</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Roundhouse</hi> <hi rend="italics">(rr.)</hi> <hi rend="smallcaps">Worker<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">seasonal slackness, mechanization</hi></hi></p><p>Mr. Giaimo is a widower with six children, three of whom are not with him.  Nellie, the oldest of the children, is 16&half;, and keeps house for the family.  Mrs. Giaimo died last spring, after having been ill with tuberculosis for seven years.</p><p>Rosie, 10 years old, is in a school for the deaf and dumb; the two smallest boys were placed in an orphanage when their mother died.  Mr. Giaimo does not contribute to the support of these three youngest children.</p><p>Mr. Giaimo had worked at the roundhouse of a large railroad for ten years, seven nights a week.  When his wife died, he asked for day work so that he would not have to leave his children alone at night.  This was refused, so he quit the roundhouse hoping to find some day work.  It was then at his trouble began.  He could only find seasonal work with the city.</p><p>This family had not had much to go on for some time because of Mrs. Giaimo&apos;s illness, but when there was a steady income, they planned carefully.  They had food in variety and could even find money for amusement now and then, as they cannot do now.</p><p>Mr. Giaimo thinks his unemployment is due not so much to the seasonal nature of street work as to the fact that the <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110329">329</controlpgno><printpgno>278</printpgno></pageinfo>city has bought some new labor-saving machinery, such as self-loading trucks, which enable four men to do the work formerly done by twelve.</p><p>The city was building a new bridge and instead of giving the contract to a local contractor gave it to a man from a neighboring city, who brought his own workmen with him.  Mr. Giaimo gives this as a common cause of local unemployment.</p><p>Mr. Giaimo was out of work for the first part of November until the first of March, having only fifteen days of work in December when he cleaned streets.  Then he was given work repairing brick pavements.  That job is almost finished and there is no prospect of another.</p><p>Although the family had no savings because of the mother&apos;s long illness, they own their house consisting of seven rooms.  The three upstairs rooms are rented for $15 per month and their furniture is paid for.</p><p>They have borrowed about $300 from friends, which, added to the $100 still owed for the mother&apos;s funeral, makes a debt of about $400.  Mr. Giaimo says he would get too discouraged if he added them all up.</p><p>He belongs to a fraternal order and has been able to pay his yearly dues so far.  The three children who are at home are insured.</p><p>No relief has been received from any social agency.  Their standards have necessarily been lowered in some ways.  The main thing seems to be a change in their diet.  Mr. Giaimo says he feeds them potatoes and bread all the time, or he buys beans when he wants meat.  The furniture is very simple and there is very little of it, but it is kept clean and well arranged.</p><p>The members of the family are all in good health.  They are able to keep so because during the mother&apos;s long illness they learned how to make the most of what food they could get.  Mr. Giaimo has the children report to the clinic from time to time for examination.  He does not want any of them to develop tuberculosis as his wife did.  He could <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110330">330</controlpgno><printpgno>279</printpgno></pageinfo>not pay for any medical attention unless he borrowed the money for it.</p><p>Mr. Giaimo feels that he has done all he could to find work.  He knows that he can borrow enough money for necessities from his friends who trust that he will repay them.  He is confident that he will do it some time, but he is a little discouraged when he realizes that it will probably be several years before he can repay all.  The worst part of it is that next winter he will be out of work again unless something is found to keep street laborers busy during the winter.</p><p>He is willing to borrow from other Italians, for they are his friends, but he will not ask other people.  These others, he says, are always sending notices asking one to pay while an Italian trusts and waits until one is able to pay.  He asked the Public Welfare for help once during his wife&apos;s illness but not since has been out of work.</p><p>The children are still in school, but Nellie will probably have to leave and go to work at the end of this year.</p><p>Josephine says they do not mind not having enough food so much but it is rather hard never to have any money for shows or any other amusement which costs money.  They feel the embarrassment of not being able to do any of the things which the other children enjoy so much.  They come to the settlement and so far have kept paying their class dues pretty well.  The father insists that they must stay home to clean house on Saturday.</p></div><div><head>CASE 112<hsep>The Lighthouse<lb>LLOYD<hsep>Philadelphia, Pa.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(W. 40)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">17, 15, 12, 7</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Topper in Box Factory<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>Two years ago, Mollie Lloyd and her four children were living in a fairly comfortable house for which she paid $25 <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110331">331</controlpgno><printpgno>280</printpgno></pageinfo>a month; the oldest daughter had a scholarship which enabled her to continue school, an the two youngest children were receiving day nursery care.  Their home was a cheerful place, and the children adored their cheerful, bustling little mother.  She is not a skilled worker, but a that time she was working full time and was able to average a wage of $17 a week, which was supplemented by the $5 received from the daughter&apos;s scholarship.</p><p>The paper box factory where she worked decreased its output by  half about Christmas, 1927, and the employees received notice that there would be no work on Saturdays.  Shortly after this, the five remaining working days were reduced to something less than five hours a day; later on the work was further reduced to but one and two days a week.  In August, 1928, Mrs. Lloyd was laid off altogether for a period of two weeks.  Then there were days when she would go to the factory in the morning, wait around most of the day, to be told finally that there would be no work that day.  On these occasions she was out her carfare and lunch money.</p><p>Mollie decided that she would have to leave her comfortable little house, and after hunting around, found a miserable little place which was too small for the family and had very damp walls, but which was cheap&mdash;$15 a month.  Here she contracted lumbago and had to lose even more time from her work.</p><p>Rather than go into debt, Mollie reduced her living expenses correspondingly.  She cut down in the matter of food and used coal oil lamps when the gas was turned off.  When the winter came on, she had only a wood fire in the kitchen to heat the house, despite its dampness.</p><p>The family fell far below normal standards in almost everything.  The food was always insufficient, and the need of clothing loomed large.  Mrs.  Lloyd did not want the children to miss school and so she spent every cent she could on clothing for them, and neglected herself,&mdash;to the point where she finally had but one dress of her own.  The visitor remembers very distinctly the day she found her <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110332">332</controlpgno><printpgno>281</printpgno></pageinfo>weeping because the tears were too large to be mended with adhesive tape, and wondering what she would wear to work the next day.  In spite of everything, she has never asked for assistance, but the family is now receiving relief from the settlement.  The rent has been paid, and milk and a considerable amount of clothing have been supplied.</p><p>Mrs. Lloyd has an extraordinary degree of fortitude ad through everything has exercised a good control over the children and the harmony of her home remains intact despite the strain she is under.  The children still have their deep affection for their mother.</p><p>Had the mother not had real grit, she would have put the oldest daughter to work instead of letting her accept the scholarship of $5 a week offered her by the White-Williams Foundation so that she might continue at high school.  Her oldest boy sells papers after school.  In spite of all her care, she is finding her youngest child hard to manage.</p></div><div><head>CASE 113<hsep>Southwark Neighborhood House<lb>KIRK<hsep>Philadelphia, Pa.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Engl.<lb>Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">7 chn.</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Expert Wood-Finisher<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">mechanization</hi></hi></p><p>From England, in 1909, Mr. and Mrs. Kirk came to Philadelphia with their two young children.</p><p>An opening for Mr. Kirk in a victrola manufacturing concern enabled him to train for some specialized work and he became an expert hardwood-finisher.  His work record showed five years of faithful service, without missig a day, and a wage averaging $35 a week.</p><p>Even with an increased family, the Kirks were able to establish a comfortable home, and start a savings account, which they hoped would in time provide for the future education of their children.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110333">333</controlpgno><printpgno>282</printpgno></pageinfo><p>Their modest prosperity was rudely interrupted by the invention of a new process of wood-finishing by means of a spraying machine and Mr. Kirk was laid off along with other long-service employees.</p><p>Then began the search for work.  At small furniture manufacturing places he picked up work which lasted from a month to three months at a time, while the pay averaged only about half that of his former earnings.  The weeks of idleness between were fast diminishing their savings.</p><p>During the war there was work in an ammunition factory, but the long period of unsettled conditions following left the family discouraged and almost destitute.  They rallied, however, when relief came through two years of steady employment in a radio factory where Mr. Kirk&apos;s skill could be used.  When the work here finally came to an end the situation seemed worse than ever.  Day after day, following up clue after clue, Mr. Kirk tramped the streets, but everywhere there seemed to be fifty to a hundred men after one job.</p><p>When the landlord raised the rent, other quarters were sought.  The father, mother, seven children, the eldest daughter&apos;s husband and their baby,&mdash;all eleven of them, moved into a tiny three-room house in a narrow alley.</p><p>The daughter&apos;s husband at the time of their marriage had been steadily employed as a team driver, but was thrown out of work when his employer was apprehended for bootlegging on the side.  This happened two weeks before Christmas (1928) and he has found no work since.  Leaving the baby with her mother, his wife worked for a while in a restaurant, but as another baby is expected she has been obliged to give up.  Within the last few days, her husband signed up to work on a ship as mess boy at $40 per month.</p><p>The eldest son, aged 19, left school at 16, but has been unable to contribute much toward the support of the family, owing to his poor health.  It is suspected that he has tuberculosis.  A tolerant and kindly-disposed proprietor of a cheap restaurant endeavored to train him to be a waiter, but his nerve were unable to stand this strain, so he was given dishwashing <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110334">334</controlpgno><printpgno>283</printpgno></pageinfo>to do instead.  At the end of every month or so his health forced him to give up for a while.  The restaurant keeper, tired of his irregularity, finally replaced him with more permanent help.  Although he is in no condition to work at present, he is still seeking something to do.</p><p>Mrs. Kirk, the mother, is too frail to go out to work.  She has been taking in ironing an earning something in that way.</p><p>She has felt all along that it would be a disgrace to ask for help, although at one time when her daughter&apos;s husband applied for assistance from a relief organization, she admits that the groceries sent were shared among the eleven of them.</p><p>Four of the children were regularly attending clubs an classes at the settlement house, and their diminutive size and undernourished condition were noticed by the workers.  The two oldest girls were induced to join a nutrition class, but their lack of physical improvement, in spite of the carefully planned diet lists which they took home, was a puzzle to the teacher.  This led to further investigation of home conditions and the reasons for their retarded growth were revealed.</p><p>&ldquo;They are so used to going without food that they can&apos;t eat much when they do get it,&rdquo; explained Mrs. Kirk.  &ldquo;They don&apos;t say much, but they know when there&apos;s nothin&apos;&mdash;and they feel it worse around the holidays when other children are getting new clothes, and other things.</p><p>&ldquo;At first, when hard times struck us,&rdquo; the mother continued, &ldquo;Mr. Kirk used to drown his troubles in drink, but that didn&apos;t last.  He pulled himself together and started walkin&rsquo; the streets tryin&rsquo; to find work.  He is blue and morose most of the time.  When he comes in cranky and disagreeable there&apos;s no livin&rsquo; with him.  But that&apos;s because he&apos;s so tired &mdash;and with nothin&rsquo; to eat.  And he&apos;s not a lazy man, he isn&apos;t.  He never gets in with gangs of loafers on the corners and he never gambles; jest keeps to himself&mdash;and keeps lookin&rsquo; and lookin&rsquo; for work.&rdquo;</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110335">335</controlpgno><printpgno>284</printpgno></pageinfo><p>About two weeks ago Mr. Kirk&apos;s hopes were raised when he heard that the victrola company was taking on men to learn to operate the new spraying machine.  He lost no time in getting there, but the report was a false one.</p><p>Since then he has taken a part-time position,&mdash;running an elevator a few hours a day.</p><p>They have now abandoned the idea of educating their children beyond the age of sixteen.  Already the children are planning to leave and go to work as soon as the law will permit.</p><p>Their contacts at the settlement are the only ones they have beside those of their school life.  For a time their faces, grown old beyond their years, light up as they participate in games, folk dances and songs.</p><p>The parents are still weighed down with the burden of the stern realities which have been with them so constantly for months.  They wonder if the future will ever be bright for them again.</p></div><div><head>CASE 114<hsep>North East Neighborhood House<lb>KROVAK<hsep>Minneapolis, Minn.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Pol.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 60);</hi> <hi rend="smallcaps">Czecho-Slov.</hi>  <hi rend="italics">(W. 50)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chin:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">9 ranging from 11 to 28 yrs.</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Blacksmith in Czecho-Slovakia; Iron-Worker in America<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">seasonal slackness</hi></hi></p><p>The Krovak family has been known to the North East Neighborhood House since 1914 when the family lived in a house of boards, no plaster and no cellar,&mdash;a veritable tarpaper shack.  The father built the three-room house himself.  Gradually they added to the house,&mdash;first the front room, then the cellar, and last the second story.  How well some of the members of the settlement house remember when Mrs. Krovak was helping her husband with the carpentry work and even shingling the roof!</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110336">336</controlpgno><printpgno>285</printpgno></pageinfo><p>Mrs. Krovak has had thirteen children, of whom nine are living.  Maria, 28 years old, had to work when she was very young to help the younger members of the family.  John, 27 years old, joined the U. S. Navy.  He could not help much, but the next two, aged 26 and 23, began contributing their bit when they reached the age to get a job.</p><p>Mrs. Krovak said, &ldquo;Yes, I always had trouble&mdash;ever since I was a child&mdash;and I suppose I will as long as I live.  I didn&apos;t want to marry my man because I was only 15 years old and he was ten years older than I was, but being an orphan child, my guardian made me marry him, because he was a blacksmith and could make a living for me.</p><p>&ldquo;Yes, he was a good man, but poor, same as I was, and that is why we left the old country and came to America.</p><p>&ldquo;My man, he could not get the kind of work here that he had in the old country; so he went to work at $2.20 a day.  I helped, got work from the settlement house washing and cleaning by the day.  I worked hard while my children were small, but as they grew up and were able to work they helped a lot.  Maria made $13 a week at the telephone company, and Anna and the boys helped too.</p><p>&ldquo;Oh, yes, the Society [The Relief Agency] had to help us when the children were small because my man was sick and I was not able to work.  After he got well again, and was able to work, we were getting along nicely.  We got more furniture, and stuccoed the house from the outside.  I tell you we were a happy family, because my man was working at the iron works and made $5 a night.  The four oldest were not able to go to high school because they had to work when very young.  Viola [18] started in high school and Susan [11] and Neda [13] are still in the grade school.</p><p>&ldquo;The teachers in school like my children.  They send me letters telling me that my children learn good and one of them was on the Honor Roll.  Helen liked art and took it up in the settlement house from a very fine artist.  Her sketches were on exhibit in other settlement houses of this country.  I am proud of my children&mdash;they are good and <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110337">337</controlpgno><printpgno>286</printpgno></pageinfo>smart.  You, see in the settlement house here they are first in everything.</p><p>&ldquo;All was fine&mdash;we even bought an ice cream stand and my children helped in it; we made good money until a neighbor woman also opened an ice cream stand almost next to ours, so business went half and half.  We closed our stand up because there was trouble about it all the time.  I didn&apos;t care; we made enough money out of it.</p><p>&ldquo;But, as I said, good luck does not stay with us long enough.  My man was laid off from work.  They promised to take him back soon, but it has been five months and a half since he has been out of work but cannot get anything.  Trouble began, you see.  Maria and Helen cannot help now, as they are both married.</p><p>&ldquo;Anna is in Chicago, working there; she can not help us much because the board and room&apos;s so high.</p><p>&ldquo;Robert had only six more months of high school, but he said he is tired of listening to me,&mdash;&lsquo;no money for this&rsquo;,&lsquo;no, you can&apos;t have that.&rsquo;  Poor Robert,&mdash;stopped school and was looking for work; I didn&apos;t want him to do it.  I told him, &lsquo;Look, your father work hard all his life,&rsquo; So Robert promised to take evening school and finish that way.  He got work at Piston Ring Company, and he only made $18 a week, but it all helped&mdash;because nobody else worked.</p><p>&ldquo;Viola, she gave up high school, came to settlement house for work, but there was not enough money in it; then she look for factory work, but in winter time it is hard to get in factory, so during Christmas rush she got a job in a ten-cent store.  Then she was out of work for three months; could not buy a job!  Then she got in some shoe factory doing piece work.  She made 80 cents the first day.  She is doing better now and makes over a dollar a day.</p><p>&ldquo;I tried my best to get along because I am ashamed to ask.  The settlement house has always helped us and I come here for everything, so that is why I come to you now.  I can&apos;t help it&mdash;shame or no shame.  We are on the rocks,&mdash; spent all over savings,&mdash;have no clothes for the children nor <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110338">338</controlpgno><printpgno>287</printpgno></pageinfo>for the older ones.  My man, he have no shoes.  Mickie needs a new suit.  He works, but we use all he makes for groceries and we are just living and that is all.  Believe me I was living on black coffee for one week because I cannot use the can milk&mdash;it make me sick, so I had to do without it.  The children can use it.</p><p>&ldquo;Viola is ashamed to go on the street; her coat is worn out and too small for her.  When she wants to dress up better her friends give her clothes; one girl gives her a coat and another a dress and so on.</p><p>&ldquo;Susan and Neda will have to stay out of school as they have no shoes or overshoes.  I cannot patch the clothes any more,&mdash;they are all patches.</p><p>&ldquo;I can&apos;t help it; I must cry.  When my children were small my man was sick so long in St. Thomas Tuberculosis Hospital and I got help, but now they are big and they are ashamed to ask, but I had to come and tell you my trouble; you always help me before,&mdash;you will do it now, I know.&rdquo;</p><p>The Krovak family is well known to every member of the settlement house and to a number of friends who are interested in the house.  No time was wasted, but an appeal was made to some of our friends and in a day or so enough clothing was gotten together for the whole family.  The mother came over late in the evening to carry the things to her home.  The neighbors did not see her, and the children did not know how the things all got there.  They are an independent family, and the children are all leaders in the activities of the settlement house.</p><p>The mother attends a Mothers&rsquo; Club organized only for foreign-speaking mothers.  One never hears her complaining &mdash;she usually seems happy and joking&mdash;one would never suspect that she is carrying a great burden.  At times, however, it just becomes unbearable and she almost loses the smile for a while, but it comes back.  She is looking forward to the time when she will not have to ask for help.</p></div><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110339">339</controlpgno><printpgno>288</printpgno></pageinfo><div><head>CASE 115<hsep>Greenwich House<lb>FREEDOM<hsep>New York City, N. Y.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 29; W. 31)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">8, 5, 3, 2</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chauffeur<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression, seasonal slackness</hi></hi></p><p>The Freedoms are a self-respecting family which has come close to starving before asking for help.</p><p>Mr. Freedom received a grammar school education.  He is a chauffeur but is willing to do any kind of work that he can find.  Mrs. Freedom is thrifty and does all the children&apos;s sewing, and their little home for three rooms is neat and clean.</p><p>Mr. Freedom was employed by a construction firm as a truck-driver.  A dull season, however, resulted in his being laid off for three months.  In that time, even though he tried diligently to find other work, he was unsuccessful.</p><p>Later the firm took him back for five months, but the slack season again returned.</p><p>The family&apos;s small savings fund was soon exhausted.  With no money for electricity and gas, the food could not be cooked, and the family had to go to bed as soon as it became dark.</p><p>Some credit was secured for groceries at the store where Mr. Freedom&apos;s mother bought, but many times the food was not suitable for small children and when the children did receive food, they were too ravenously hungry to eat properly.</p><p>Finally the landlord gave the family a notice to vacate, because the rent had not been paid.</p><p>Various relief organizations and Greenwich House assisted the family by supplying milk and other nourishment; convalescent care; special treatment, such as Alpine Lamp and free clinic care; also clothing.</p><p>The children were greatly undernourished.  They developed <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110340">340</controlpgno><printpgno>289</printpgno></pageinfo>whooping cough and measles, and Bobby, the youngest child, died with measles and pneumonia.  As the family was unable to provide for medical care, Bobby was taken to a city hospital. It was Mrs. Freedom&apos;s as well as the doctor&apos;s thought that he probably was too undernourished to be able to fight the pneumonia condition.</p><p>The parents became greatly depressed and discouraged, for many nights the family went to bed hungry and never knew when they would have their next meal.  At one time they were a day without any food.  The home atmosphere, however, seems congenial.  The father has remained self-respecting and earnestly tried to find some sort of employment.</p><p>Mr. Freedom is now employed, at a very small salary, as superintendent of several apartment houses.  He is trying to find another position at a better salary.  By paying a small amount each month, he hopes to pay his bills of electricity, gas and back rent.  So far, however, they have not been able to pay enough to have their gas turned on.  During the winter, they can use a wood and coal stove.</p><p>The children are too young, at the present time, to have their education or talents retarded.  However, their health and growth have been affected as they still are much undernourished.  Because of the present small salary and having to pay back debts, they are not getting proper food.</p><p>It looks as though the family will not be able to save any money for the future education of the children, or for future illness, at least for a number of years.</p></div><div><head>CASE 116<hsep>Recreation Rooms<lb>LIPSKI<hsep>New York City, N. Y.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Rus.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Jew.) (M. 37; W. 39)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">3 chn.</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Bookkeeper in Turkey; Painter in<lb>Amer.<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">seasonal slackness</hi></hi></p><p>Jennie and Morris Lipski were examined in our health clinic in 1927.  They wanted to go to the country!  We found <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110341">341</controlpgno><printpgno>290</printpgno></pageinfo>them to be extremely undernourished and anemic and felt that while perhaps they were getting enough food, they were not getting the right kind.  A visit was made to the home for the  purpose, first, of finding out the sort of home the children lived in, and, second, to explain to the mother the kinds of food they should eat, and that as soon as summer came, we should be only too glad to send them to the country.</p><p>Over on Eldridge Street, we found the Lipskis living in three rooms,&mdash;one light and two very dark,&mdash;cleanly but poorly furnished.  Mrs. Lipski was sewing on coats.  We noticed how thin and emaciated she looked.  Is she well? we ask.  Oh, yes, but sometimes she has much pain in her stomach and medicine only helps for a time.  Does she go to a clinic?  Yes, she does.  But perhaps if she wouldn&apos;t have to worry about making ends meet, she would not have trouble with her stomach!  But what is one to do when there are three children to feed and the income is never steady?</p><p>The Lipskis are Russian Jews.  Four years ago they came to America from Constantinople, where they has sought refuge from the pogroms in Russia.  There Mr. Lipski worked in one of the banks as bookkeeper.  He is a well-educated person.  &ldquo;If he could only get to America!  There were even greater opportunities!&rdquo;  So he came first, and then a few months later his family followed.  Soon the illusions of golden opportunities were dispelled.  He had to get work &mdash;not in an office, as he had hoped.  He had to take anything he could get!  Painting houses and buildings seemed to be the only thing that he could do in the way of manual work and make a fair wage, even though it was seasonal.  After he served his apprenticeship, his earning capacity increased appreciably.  But he does not want to be a painter!  In dull seasons he takes whatever work he can get and borrows enough to tide him over the period of unemployment.</p><p>This year he has been most unfortunate.  The people to <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110342">342</controlpgno><printpgno>291</printpgno></pageinfo>whom he had looked in previous years for a loan could not help him.  They, too, were affected by unemployment, and the odd jobs he could get did not yield an adequate return to provide for the needs of his wife and children who were ill.  His wife, it was discovered, had a gastric ulcer and gall-bladder trouble which necessitated a severe major operation at one of our large private hospitals.  They had always taken care of themselves; so they did not ask for free care, as they might have done.  Instead, they paid a little, with the result that they economized in food.  Many days there was hardly enough to go around.</p><p>After a three months&rsquo; illness and convalescent care, Mrs. Lipski needed special food because of her stomach condition.  The children appeared to be getting thinner and paler!  Jennie, who had been in the country all summer, a vacation which her parents paid for, was found, upon recent examination, to have lost seventeen pounds, and Morris, who had been away for six weeks, fifteen pounds.  A neighbor, realizing the desperate situation, reported it to one of the Jewish relief agencies, much to the distress of the Lipskis.  &ldquo;Charity!&rdquo; says Mr. Lipski.  &ldquo;We so not want charity!  Give me a job so that I can provide for the needs of my family!&rdquo;  He has been very much upset mentally over his trouble.</p><p>Fortunately we have been able to get the Josephine Home to take Jennie.  That home caters only to the undernourished and anemic child.  There she will be kept until she is back to normal.  Morris was sent to Chapppaqua, where he will have an opportunity to regain his strength.  That leaves the mother free from worry about those two children, whose condition distressed her very much.</p><p>An effort is being made to help Mr. Lipski find employment in an environment which will be congenial to him and provide him with a steady income.</p></div><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110343">343</controlpgno><printpgno>292</printpgno></pageinfo><div><head>CASE 117<hsep>Welcome Hall<lb>ARNA<hsep>Buffalo, N.Y.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Ital.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 36; W, 27)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">11, 9, 7, 4,</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Laborer<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">Seasonal Slackness</hi></hi></p><p>&ldquo;Mary, you are to go to the hospital on Friday at noon and get Arthur.  They are going to bring him in from the country.  The nurse says he is in fine shape and, anyway,they need the bed for another child who is worse off than he is.  And he must have a quart of milk a day and rest every afternoon for an hour or so and he mustn&apos;t be allowed to sleep in a bed with four other children. Can&apos;t you get a cot or something for him?&rdquo;</p><p>Poor Mary! Her dark eyes grew misty, but her voice was brave and steady as she tried to plan.  She adores all her five children though she cuffs them soundly and yells at them with gusto when they disobey.  Her heart yearns especially over Arthur, who is five years old and who has spent the greater part of his young life in a Children&apos;s Convalescent Home being treated for bad and an incurable heart condition.</p><p>We realized later that Mary had planned to meet some of the requirements for Arthur as we sat in her kitchen trying to avoid the drip from the numerous garments drying on lines above our heads.  And the dresses and rompers and suits, as well as the towels and bed things, were a lot cleaner than anyone might expect who knew Mary&apos;s mother and the home Mary grew up in.  Mary is casual about her housework,&mdash;floors unswept, dishes in the sink, bits of bread on the oil-cloth-covered table,curtains awry at the windows, &mdash;but all so much better than is used to be in spite of the increasing demands of her robust young family.  Yes, she had a cot for Arthur.  It stood against the kitchen wall in the daytime, out of the way.  There was no other place for it.  Her sitting <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110344">344</controlpgno><printpgno>293</printpgno></pageinfo>room was filled with the dining room able and chairs; one bedroom held the double bed for the four other children and the other was occupied by her husband and herself.</p><p>Both she and her husband were born in Italy, coming here when quite young.  They have been married twelve years,&mdash;not altogether happy ones,&mdash;for Mary left her husband for a time and went home to her mother.  She was only 20 then, craving good times and excitement and respite from the care of a home and babies, rebelling against her husband&apos;s old country dictum that a woman must stay at home and be content there.  But both she and her husband are wiser now and she is getting real pleasure out of her children.  They are a healthy, hearty, noisy lot, Even Arthur, with his cheeks like two rosy apples, plays with the joyous abandon of the other children.  &ldquo;It&apos;s hard to get him to rest every day with the others tearing in and out,&rdquo; the mother exclaimed as he came rushing in to snatch a sweet roll out of a bag on the table.  Through the Convalescent Fund, a quart of milk each day and a dozen of fresh eggs each week are given for him for the present.</p><p>Clothes and shoes are the chief anxieties of Mary&apos;s life and her husband&apos;s earnings as a laborer, $24 a week, are not sufficient to meet the children&apos;s growing needs.  He works for a construction company which is idle for most of the winter each year.  Occasionally he may get a week&apos;s work with some other concern during this time. However, he and his wife have learned to plan their budget accordingly and this year, with them, has been no worse than previous ones.  They need more room, but $16 is as much rent as they can afford; they have managed to keep up their insurance and their food cost isn&apos;t as much of a problem as it would be if Mary&apos;s parents did not keep a grocery store.</p><p>The children, with the exception of Arthur, all come to the settlement classes.  Seraphina, the oldest girl, is 11, and is a delight to watch when she is doing a folk dance. Then there is Anthony, who is 9, Frank, 7, and John, 4 who was in the Christmas play and sang &ldquo; Away in a Manger&rdquo; like an angel. <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110345">345</controlpgno><printpgno>294</printpgno></pageinfo>Mary, herself, attended the Americanization Class for a while.  She is ambitious both for herself and for her children and would love to have the older ones study piano and violin, but, unfortunately, the efforts of the teachers so far have not borne much fruit.  The three older ones are very slow and behind their grades in school and lessons are a real effort for them.</p><p>&ldquo;No, none of us have decent shoes,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Anthony was home from school for a week because he hadn&apos;t any.  I got him a cheap pair last week, but they&apos;re almost worn through already.  And my little Frank wanted a sailor suit so bad and I told him to save up all his pennies.  He saved $3 and then Easter is coming and I had nothing for the boys, so I took the $3 and got each of the three a pair of pants and then I bought them white blouses.&rdquo;</p><p>This, then, is the story of the Arna family.  Both Mr. and Mrs. Arna are ambitious for their five children, but are cramped by lack of money.  The family is barely holding its own, and is unprepared for any crisis that would cut off its support.</p></div><div><head>CASE 118<hsep>Neighborhood Centre<lb>LEVY<hsep>Philadelphia, Pa.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Rus. Jewish</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 40);</hi> <hi rend="smallcaps">Rum. Jewish</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">(W. 32)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">1&mdash;2 yrs. old</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Carpenter<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">seasonal slackness, depression</hi></hi></p><p>When Sarah Levy, aged two, was absent from the settlement nursery one of the staff called on the family.  Somewhat shortened, I shall give their story in the caller&apos;s words:</p><p>&ldquo;The worker walked into the grocery store through which one must pass in order to reach the apartments on the floor above, and was directed up several flights of cleanly swept <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110346">346</controlpgno><printpgno>295</printpgno></pageinfo>stairs of the Levy apartment.  Loud knocks on the door of the third floor rear brought forth a woman who lives in the front apartment on the same floor.  She said that Mrs. Levy was probably not in, since both she and her husband went out to look for work every day.  &lsquo;For a long time they were so proud they wouldn&apos;t go to the society for help,&rsquo; continued the neighbor.  &lsquo;I guess they&apos;d rather starve.  She did go somewhere, though, because now the little one is put in some kind of place to be cared for during the day.&rsquo;</p><p>&ldquo;At this moment the door in the rear opened abruptly, and Mrs. Levy appeared, holding a sleepy child in her arms, and asked me into a spotless, bare establishment.  They had been sleeping, she said, to forget they were hungry.  Her husband, an excellent carpenter, who had been in steady work since 1909, had been out of job for ten months, and was the moment walking the streets.  &lsquo;We lived in New York City before we came here several years ago,&rsquo; said Mrs. Levy, &lsquo;and we lived in a castle like queens compared to our life now.&rsquo;  A wail from the child in her arms brought forth, &lsquo;I have to give her patent medicines, but the woman downstairs in the grocery was sorry to hear the kid had such a cough, and she gave me this stuff.&rsquo;  She took the bottle and measured out a few spoonfuls.  &lsquo;I was a good cashier and I could be out looking for work if the kid wasn&apos;t sick, but I shouldn&apos;t blame her.&rsquo;  A loud cry from the child interrupted her.  &lsquo;Guess I&apos;ll have to give her something to eat&mdash;don&apos;t know what.  I wouldn&apos;t go down to the grocery and charge anything more.  I owe him $20 already.  I&apos;ve got one thing in the house, and that&apos;s a box of oatmeal.&rsquo;  She proceeded to prepare a dish of dry cereal for herself and child.  &lsquo;You know you can get a box for a dime and it doesn&apos;t taste so bad without milk.</p><p>&ldquo;&lsquo;When Sarah was born, my husband was working steady&mdash;sometimes making fifty a week.  When I came back from the hospital with the baby I found a $100 bill under my pillow.  He belonged to the Carpenter&apos;s Union at Twenty-sixth Street.  In that place they used to have so much work that they had to have agents to hunt up men to take the <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110347">347</controlpgno><printpgno>296</printpgno></pageinfo>jobs.  Now there&apos;s no need for the agents or the workers.  It wouldn&apos;t do any good anyway, because by husband hasn&apos;t paid his dues for months.  There was a friend of his, a carpenter who had six children, owned his own house and everything, but was out of work for fourteen months and got so discouraged he turned on the gas.&rsquo; &rdquo; </p></div><div><head>CASE 119<hsep>College Settlement<lb>VANZETTI<hsep>Philadelphia, Pa.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Ital.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 44; W, 42)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">21, 19, 9, 7</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Truck-Driver</hi> <hi rend="italics">(oldest son also a<lb>truck-driver)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">general depression</hi></hi></p><p>Mr. and Mrs. Vanzetti have been known to the settlement for twenty-one years.  There were four children:  Thomas, 21, who is married, and has a child 6 months old; Mary, 19, who also is married, and has a 4-months-old child; Joseph, 9, and Reba, 7.</p><p>Mr. Vanzetti, the chief breadwinner, drove a truck for a furniture company for eleven years, and then was laid off for three months.  Before that he worked only two to three days a week for seven months.  When working full time, he earned $30 a week.  Thomas, who also had been driving a truck, sold his furniture and brought his wife and child to live with his parents because of his own unemployment.</p><p>Mr. Vanzetti has been steady and industrious, and has lost no time at work through any fault of his own.  Mrs. Vanzetti is a thrifty housewife, an intelligent mother and has supplemented the family income frequently by cleaning outside her come.</p><p>Even with the use of their savings, they have not been able to pay the interest on the $1,600 mortgage on their home.  They have been trying to sell the dining-room furniture. <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110348">348</controlpgno><printpgno>297</printpgno></pageinfo>Mrs. Vanzetti is boarding two babies for the Catholic Children&apos;s Bureau for which she receives $11 per week.  Besides this, she also does cleaning outside.  So far, no relief has been sought from any organization.</p><p>The Vanzettis are not able to buy milk for the children, who are apparently in good health at present.  The family&apos;s clothing, however, is somewhat shabby.  When Mrs. Vanzetti has to go out to work, her married daughter is able to help in the home.</p><p>Mrs. Vanzetti is extremely anxious about their situation.  The children are very co&ouml;perative and seem to have a great deal of admiration for their parents.  The home atmosphere continues to be harmonious.</p><p>Mrs. Vanzetti&apos;s 80-year-old mother is very willing to get the children&apos;s lunches, make the beds and sew.  She only regrets that she cannot make any financial contributions to the family.</p><p>Thomas is now serving a jail sentence for assault and battery.  In the meantime, his wife and six-months-old baby are living with the Vanzetti family.  Thomas&rsquo; wife has been unable to get any work and she has no income from any other source.</p><p>Thomas&rsquo; offense may not be a result of unemployment, but unemployment is undoubtedly an important factor in the physical and psychological aspects of this family, and his imprisonment imposes an added burden on his father&apos;s family, already suffering from the unemployment of their breadwinner.</p><p>The family&apos;s opportunities for development are undoubtedly curtailed.  The parents do not think about, much less talk about, relaxation, recreation, self-improvement, etc., when they do not know where they are going to get food for the next meal, shoes and clothing for the children, or money to pay the rent or taxes on their home.  Any prospect of higher education or vocational training is lost in the struggle for existence.</p></div><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110349">349</controlpgno><printpgno>298</printpgno></pageinfo><div><head>CASE 120<hsep>University House<lb>RAYMOND<hsep>Philadelphia, Pa.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Irish parentage) (M.  44; W.  41)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">15, 14, 13, 10, 8, 7, 4</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Rooper<lb>Son: Errand-boy<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>&ldquo;I&apos;m sorry, Mrs. Raymond, but Buddy has pneumonia again.&rdquo;</p><p>&ldquo;But doctor, I didn&apos;t know you could have it three times in one winter!&rdquo;</p><p>&ldquo;I&apos;m afraid it&apos;s because he never got his strength back between times.&rdquo;</p><p>Four year-old Buddy was too hot and miserable even to mind going back to the hospital.  He was the youngest of the Raymond&apos;s seven children.  Fifteen-year-old-red-headed Joe was the oldest and he had been the only earner since his father lost his job four months ago.</p><p>The Raymonds had lived in New York until a year ago.  Mr. Raymond was a roofer and being out of work in New York, he came with his family to Philadelphia, where he had relatives, hoping to have better luck here.  Upon his arrival in Philadelphia, he got work with a roofing firm which lasted until that firm failed.  He was out for a month when the foreman of the firm, who had stated up in business for himself, took him on and that work lasted until four months ago.  This man is ready to take him back as soon as he has work.</p><p>We discovered that the father was out of work because we noticed how thin the children were getting.  Bob&apos;s legs looked so much thinner than the other boys&rsquo; when marching in a gymnasium class, and Buddy in the nursery school did not again after his first attack of pneumonia.  In talking over the children&apos;s health, Mrs. Raymond told the rest of the story.  Nine of them had been living on the $7 that Joe made as errand-boy in a drug store and $3.80 which Mr. Raymond <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110350">350</controlpgno><printpgno>299</printpgno></pageinfo>had made for one day&apos;s work with the city during a snow-storm, and $10 which he had earned for putting a roof on a house for a chauffeur in his old firm.</p><p>Mrs. Raymond, in describing the past four months, said, &ldquo;He&apos;s always walking or looking.  The places are so far apart that his feet get sore.  He had to put cotton in the heels of his shoe and the brace back on his knee.  He&apos;s been everywhere,&mdash;the day shifts and the night shifts.  Sometimes he don&apos;t know where he is walking.  He&apos;s been back to some people so often that they hold up their hands when they see him coming.  I&apos;ve got two of the children out of school now because they have no shoes and soon they&apos;ll all be out.  Sometimes he gets awful cranky, but when he&apos;s working, he&apos;s contented-like, comes home, has his supper and takes the kids for a walk over the bridge, then comes back and he&apos;s to bed and asleep.</p><p>&ldquo;When he&apos;s working steady I can just manage, but when he&apos;s out, things go back.  First I stop on the damp wash, then on the food and then the rent goes behind.  We hated to have Joe go to work because his father wanted him to get a good trade, but not in the sheet-metal business because their work is so unsteady.  I&apos;ve got a brother in the sheet-metal work and he&apos;s been out of work since Christmas,&mdash;just little odd jobs here and there.  You just can&apos;t manage with odd jobs and a family.  You&apos;ve got to have that pay envelope every week or the children don&apos;t eat.&rdquo;</p></div><div><head>CASE 121<hsep>College Settlement<lb>PIALA<hsep>Philadelphia, Pa.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Ital. parentage) (M. &amp; W. 40)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">10&half;, 9, 2</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Carpenter<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression, seasonal slackness</hi></hi></p><p>Mr. Piala is a carpenter and has worked only about four months in the past year.  He earns about $35 per week when <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110351">351</controlpgno><printpgno>300</printpgno></pageinfo>working full time.  A member of the union for four years, he left it a little over two years ago, hoping he could get more work at a lower wage which, in the long run, would make him better off.  This, however, did not prove true.</p><p>Mrs. Piala is a careful manager and an excellent housekeeper.  Mr. Piala is intelligent and ambitious.  The children are well mannered and show the effects of careful, thoughtful training.</p><p>The general business depression and the seasonal character of the building trades are responsible for Mr. Piala&apos;s unemployment.  He has had only about four month&apos;s work each year for the past five years.  In the past year, he has done electrical wiring and made radio cabinets.  He also worked a few days planting trees.  A machine foundry employed him for a day or two, and he is now unable to work because of an injury received there a few weeks ago.</p><p>Mr. and Mrs. Piala have not been able to save anything during the last five years and have used all they had saved before that time.</p><p>They are buying their home but have been unable to meet their monthly payments ($20) for two months.  Mr. Piala had to sell his insurance policy in order to pay the property taxes.  Two boarders have been taken in, and Mrs. Piala goes out to work whenever she can get it.  She is now earning $12 per week in a paper box factory.  Last March, she sewed some garments for the Friends Service Committee and was able to earn about $12.</p><p>With a good physical background, the family has been able to stand the pressure of unemployment and is in good health.  The mother&apos;s skill home management has enabled them to keep up a fairly good standard.</p><p>Mr. Piala is submissive in his attitude toward the unemployment situation.  He says it is wrong but does not know what he can do about it.  He takes the initiative in seeking work and is very courageous, not asking for help.  Mrs. Piala is somewhat anxious and while there has been little physical suffering, the fact that the children can not have new clothes <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110352">352</controlpgno><printpgno>301</printpgno></pageinfo>for Easter hurts her pride tremendously.  She hesitates to come to the club meeting at the settlement because she is so shabby.</p><p>The children now must get up early in order to have their breakfast before their mother goes to work at 7 o&apos;clock.  The youngest child is too young for school, so the older children take him to their grandmother&apos;s (five squares away) before going to school.  Mrs. Piala has to do her housework and cooking for the family and two boarders when she comes home from the factory, but she does not complain about it.  The children respect their parents and are willing to cooperate.  The home life is harmonious and the moral standards do not appear to have been affected.</p><p>There is little thought given to relaxation, exercise, self-improvement, financing illness, or comfortable and independent old age.  The entire efforts of the family are directed toward securing the basic needs of food, shelter and clothing for the present.  The children seem to understand something of the situation and the wants that we consider normal are inhibited.</p></div><div><head>CASE 122<hsep>Northeast Neighborhood House<lb>HALBASZ<hsep>Minneapolis, Minn.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Polish</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 41, W. 37)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">16, 14, 12 (twins), 10, 8, 7, 4, 2<lb>(baby expected)</hi><hi rend="smallcaps">Railway Worker<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">seasonal stackness</hi></hi></p><p>The Halbasz family consists of the mother and father and their nine children: Anna, 16; John, 14; Sophie and Mary, twins, 12; Stella, 10; Walter, 8; Stephania, 7; Thomas, 4; and Nellie, 2.</p><p>They lived at a distance from the settlement house and in an outlying place far from the street car.  One of the nine <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110353">353</controlpgno><printpgno>302</printpgno></pageinfo>children has reached the age of 16, and though she is small, has had to go to work to help support the large family.</p><p>Mr. Halbasz, the chief breadwinner, works seasonally for a railway company, receiving $5 a day when employed.  Anna earns $10 a week.  They have bought a brick house which is not paid for, and which is poorly furnished.  The payment of interest on the mortgage is always hanging over their heads.  When Mr. Halbasz is not working at the railroad, but is able to earn a little by odd jobs, the interest on the mortgage is the firs consideration, and the insurance on the whole family comes next, and there are always back bills from the previous season.</p><p>In November, 1928, Mr. Halbasz was laid off by the railroad company because it did not require his services at that time.  It was understood that he would be called back to work when he was needed.  According to Mrs. Halbasz, this amounted to eight months at one time.  Mr. Halbasz had been out of work for three weeks when Mrs. Halbasz and Anna came to ask the visitor at the settlement house to see that they got a Christmas dinner and whatever they could have for Christmas because with the father out of work it was going to be impossible for them to provide a Christmas for nine children.</p><p>When Mr. Halbasz was thrown out of work the family was already in debt for groceries and coal.  Mrs. Halbasz borrowed some money from a married sister during this period of unemployment, and we believe that one of the children also went to stay with her.  The interest on the mortgage and the insurance (there is a $1,000 policy and some small policies for the children) became overdue.  They ran a grocery bill up to $50 with a new grocer in the neighborhood, although they had a large account unpaid with his predecessor.  They went in debt $10 more for coal.</p><p>Mrs. Halbasz&apos;s pregnancy made the situation all the more difficult because she did not have the right food, and was not able to give the strength she could otherwise have given to mending the family&apos;s clothes.  The children were found <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110354">354</controlpgno><printpgno>303</printpgno></pageinfo>by the nurse running around a cold house with no stockings and practically no underwear.  The children of school age were given clothes by the school.  Mr. Halbasz got a pass and went to Chicago to look for a job.  Mrs. Halbasz did not know where he had gone nor when he was coming back, she said.</p><p>At this time, the settlement called on the city for food and coal.  Mr. Halbasz, however, returned at the end of a week, but had found no work.</p><p>Mr. Halbasz seems to be fond of his family, is a good worker, and doe not drink.  After five or six weeks of unemployment, he earned $75 substituting in the railway company.  This was immediately used for the interest on the mortgage and the back coal bill, so that they were once more in need of help.  Two weeks ago, Mr. Halbasz got a job at a foundry ($3.20 a day), but the first week&apos;s pay is held back.  The city has refused to carry the family any longer.  Mrs. Halbasz cold the visitor that they could not get groceries on credit because they still owed a $50 bill and they could not make any payment on it Saturday, because the overdue insurance of $5.50 for the children must be paid first.  They also have to pay $10 owed for coal to get more coal.  On account of Mrs. Halbasz&apos;s condition and the present insufficient income, the visitor referred the family to the Family Welfare Association.  Mrs. Halbasz attends the pre-natal clinic at the settlement house regularly and has had nearly all her teeth extracted through the settlement dental clinic.</p><p>It is hard to say whether Mr. and Mrs. Halbasz are worse or better managers than any other uneducated, foreign, poor and unemployed parents of nine children would be.  It was practically necessary for them to buy the house as they would have had the greatest difficulty renting with so many children.  Mr. Halbasz dislikes asking for help and does not do so until things get pretty bad.  They are not pauperized and help themselves as long as they can.  The mother&apos;s attitude is one of patient resignation.  She looks worried and miserable <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110355">355</controlpgno><printpgno>304</printpgno></pageinfo>but does not complain about her husband, the children or the poverty.  Anna came in to see the visitor the order day.  She said over and over that it was all very hard on her mother and father.  At the same time, she did not complain about giving all her wages to them.  She was anxious for her mother, having to have her teeth pulled in her condition.  She mentioned that it was very hard on her father to have so many bills coming in and no money with which to pay them,&mdash;such as the mortgage interest.  It appears that co&ouml;peration is heightened by the present situation in the family.  They seem extremely loyal to each other.</p></div><div><head>CASE 123<hsep>Margaret Fuller House<lb>FRANCESCA<hsep>Cambridge, Mass.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Ital.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 40; W. 31)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">12, 10, 9, 7, 5, 3, 2, baby</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Floor-Layer<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>Mr. Francesca attended public school in Italy, and was also taught at home, receiving the equivalent of some high school training.  After the signing of the Armistice, he came to the United States (at the age of 23), and married here at the age of 27.</p><p>Mr. Francesca&apos;s experience embraced the following: elevator man, four years, $25-$27 weekly, factory worker, (metal plant), two years, $25 weekly, plus bonus of $2 or $3; floor-layer (Atlantic City), $11 a day,&mdash;often earning $70 weekly.  Through a friend, he learned this trade in Atlantic City.  Since living expenses were high there, the family moved to Cambridge, Mass.  Here he obtained a floor-laying position in a nearby town and earned $30 to $35 weekly.</p><p>The general business depression was responsible for his being last employed on October 15, 1928.  This involved approximately <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110356">356</controlpgno><printpgno>305</printpgno></pageinfo>five months of complete unemployment, and about seven months of previous part-time work.</p><p>Up to the early part of 1928, savings amounted to $700.  These were entirely used up with living expenses and the sickness and death of the baby, and the birth of another child.</p><p>The family did not run heavily into debt except for four months&rsquo; rent, but now owe a small bill at the grocery store of less than $10, as well as gas and light bills.  For non-payment of rent, the family was served with a notice to move, and summoned into court on complaint of the landlord.  Through a technicality, the case was dismissed in favor of the defendant.  Another notice was served February 21, 1929.</p><p>While Mr. Francesca did not carry any insurance for himself, that carried on his wife and the children lapsed.  He formerly belonged to the union, but has since resigned, because he said the union was of no help to him.  It has been impossible for Mrs. Francesca to find work with seven young children to care for at home.</p><p>Relief from the city has been received for the family since December 20, 1928,&mdash;the settlement learning of its plight through the children&apos;s attendance at pre-kindergarten.  It was then reported to the City Board of Public Welfare, which met some of the family&apos;s need.  A neighbor has also been un usually kind during this period.  At the same time, the settlement has aided with clothing, medicine and a small amount of money.</p><p>The diet has been noticeably decreased, and the clothing is inadequate.  All the children are undernourished, and there has been quite a bit of illness, particularly colds.  The illness has been cared for through the city physician and a visiting nurse.  The mother is in a very nervous and run-down condition.  Since the baby was born in January, 1929, the mother has been unable to secure the full amount of rest and nourishment that she needs, because of their reduced circumstances.</p><p>Mr. Francesca is discouraged and very much ashamed of his long period of unemployment.  There is a great deal of <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110357">357</controlpgno><printpgno>306</printpgno></pageinfo>anxiety on the part of both parents as to the outcome of their situation.</p><p>Normally the home atmosphere is a refined, pleasant one, but with the anxiety of unpaid rent, gas and light bills, Mrs. Francesca has become extremely nervous and impatient with the children.  The many illnesses and death of the baby girl, 2 years old, in December, 1928, left Mrs. Francesca in a dejected and pathetic condition.  Expecting a new baby in January, with no income, inadequate food and clothing, and the prospect of having to move, because of unpaid rent, was a trying ordeal for the family.  Throughout this trying period, the family has co&ouml;perated with the settlement, willingly and eagerly accepting the suggestions and advice.</p><p>(N.B. March 5, 1929.  Through the efforts of the Board of Public Welfare, the family has been provided with funds to transport them back to Waterville, Conn., where they will be provided for, temporarily, by their relatives.  It is expected that the father will have work there.)</p></div><div><head>CASE 124<hsep>House of Industry<lb>DOMICO<hsep>Philadelphia, Pa.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Ital. parentage) (W. 30)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">1 of 2 yrs. 9 mos.</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Operator on Children&apos;s Dresses<lb>Unemployment Reporte Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">general depression</hi></hi></p><p>Mrs. Domico left her husband shortly after they were married when she discovered that he had another wife and two children under another name.  That was three years ago, and she has since supported herself and her baby girl.</p><p>At first, she went to her parents and placed her baby in the settlement day nursery.  Finally she left her parents and rented two rooms near the settlement.</p><p>Mrs. Domico worked steadily as an operator on children&apos;s dresses for several years until the fall of 1928.  She <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110358">358</controlpgno><printpgno>307</printpgno></pageinfo>was then laid off because there was a general business depression (so she was told), and people were not buying as much as formerly.  Seeking work near home, Mrs. Domico found employment in a tailoring establishment several squares from home.  Work was regular for a while, but since Christmas, she has been working very irregularly, and fears that she may lose her present part-time work.  They tell her that &ldquo;nobody is buying.&rdquo;  Her work has been more or less part time, with no work on Saturdays and frequently none on Friday.  For the past four months, she has been struggling along as best she could.  She has had no savings to tide her over this time of irregular employment.</p><p>Mrs. Domico has asked no aid, except that she be allowed to continue to bring the child to the day nursery when not working, although she is unable to pay.  She said that her home was too cold for the baby to stay in.  Upon investigation, we discovered that not only was she without coal, but also without a stove.  A woman in the house in which Mrs. Domico lives gave her a stove, and the settlement advanced her $11 to pay for coal and the setting up of the stove.  She has also been invited to meals at the settlement house when she has had no money for food.</p><p>There have been decided economic changes.  Mrs. Domico, who likes to dress well, needs clothing, but all the money that she can make must be spent for food.  She is afraid that she will become ill and lose her position, and she has no money for doctor bills.</p><p>So far Mrs. Domico and the baby have managed to remain well physically.  The mother, however, does not look as sturdy and strong as she did.  The strain of working all week, with no rest (doing her cleaning, washing, and ironing in the evenings and week-ends) and doing without food at intervals is beginning to affect her general physical condition.  The baby is well nourished, for most of its food is supplied in the day nursery, and the mother frequently goes without food in order to have the child get her regular nourishment at home.  The mother was nearly freezing <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110359">359</controlpgno><printpgno>308</printpgno></pageinfo>before she asked for any aid other than that her baby be kept in the nursery.  She is determined to repay the money borrowed from the settlement as soon as possible.  She exists on the bare necessities in order to pay her rent and to keep out of further debt.  Her main idea is to keep herself and the baby well, and keep out of debt.</p><p>Mrs. Domico has not grown pessimistic or despondent.  She expects things to change, and is determined to &ldquo;hang on&rdquo; and keep going until that time arrives.  She has indomitable courage, but the question is whether she can &ldquo;hang on&rdquo; physically.</p></div><div><head>CASE 125<hsep>Southwark Neighborhood House<lb>KNUT JERVIS<hsep>Philadelphia, Pa.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Scotch and Scandinavian parentage)<lb>(M, 35), (Irish parentage) (W.)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">8, 4, 3, 14 mos.</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Mixer of Inks for &ldquo;Ads&rdquo;<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">seasonal slackness, formerly; now mechanization</hi></hi></p><p>Knut Jervis looks even less than his 35 years.  He is of slight build, with a frank though sensitive manner, and expresses himself easily and well.  His wife is very quiet, with little or nothing to say, but with a firm though gentle manner toward the children, who seemed to obey readily.  They have had little schooling,&mdash;Mr. Jervis only going to the 7th grade and Mrs. Jervis to the 6th.  Mr. Jervis had no definite trade training in his youth, but has learned from experience.  At 17 he enlisted in the navy, served four years and signed up for an additional year.  Then in 1915 he re&euml;nlisted and served until 1919 when he was honorably discharged.  From 1919 to 1923 he served in the U. S. Coast Guard in various places.  They were married in 1920.  From October, 1923, to February, 1925, he was employed by a talking machine company in the fire-room as boiler cleaner <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110360">360</controlpgno><printpgno>309</printpgno></pageinfo>at $28 a week,&mdash;with occasional lay-offs due to slack times, which he was generally able to comfortably tide over.  In August, 1924, he suffered an injury to his hand and was laid up for three months, during which time the company paid his expenses and $14 a week besides $200 for a release.  He returned to work in December and continued until February, 1925, when he was laid off because of the slack season.  The accident to his hand has left his thumb stiff, although he insists that it had never interfered with his ability to work.  After only a few weeks&rsquo; idleness he found a job in February, 1925, as a pipe-fitter&apos;s helper at $23.50 a week.  He worked at this for nine months until he was sent for by the Curtis Publishing Company, where he had had application pending for the print room.  Here he was employed from October, 1925, to October, 1928, with the usual lay-offs when times were slack.  None was so long, however, that the family could not see themselves through.  His job was the blending of colored inks.  The final lay-off or rather discharge was a great blow to him and was due to the employment of a different method,&mdash;instead of blending the inks the color were laid on in solid colored patches by machine and this machine runs the colors one into another, giving a blended effect.  He seems to be greatly interested in this kind of work and would like to get back into it.  He said they gave him a letter of recommendation .  He started at $21.50 and was getting $37 a week when discharged.  In the six months that have followed, it has been impossible to get anything to do but an occasional day of work,&mdash;and that at anything that happened along.  These odd jobs have barely netted him $100.</p><p>During this last six months, he was compelled to give up their little two-story seven-room house, with all conveniences, in a respectable neighborhood, and to live with friends for a month, until he found their present four-room house a few weeks ago.  This house is one room deep, with a basement kitchen.  There is no bath, but running water in the kitchen, and an outside toilet.  A gas plate in the kitchen <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110361">361</controlpgno><printpgno>310</printpgno></pageinfo>has to do heating duty for the entire house.  For this he pays $12 a month.  He seemed most concerned about the children, being exposed to the foul language of the neighborhood, which he said was the worst he had ever heard.</p><p>Now he is ill, for while engaged in some stevedore work just for the day at 85 cents an hour, he was struck on the legs by the load they were hoisting and knocked from the car.  Both legs were scraped to the bone from knee to ankle and his back strained.  His body was all strapped and his legs ulcerated.  He was receiving medical care through the company and is to receive $15 a week during disability from Employers&rsquo; Indemnity, and $7 a week sick benefit from the Red Men&apos;s Lodge.  The Lodge has also given him a little help now amd then,&mdash;a basket at Christmas, tobacco, etc.  He spoke of this most gratefully,&mdash;as a gift of one friend to another.</p><p>He seemed to feel his straitened condition most keenly.  This was the first time he had ever to call for outside help.  There was no bitterness in his tone nor harsh words against conditions,&mdash;he seemed to accept them as his fate,&mdash;but he was most eager to be up and doing.  He said if he could possibly get a job he would not wait for the doctor to discharge him.  The wife has had kidney complications and is receiving treatments at the Philadelphia General Hospital, where she expects to be confined.</p><p>Through the City Nurse, they have been receiving a weekly order for groceries ($3 per week for the past five weeks).  Before the Employers&rsquo; Indemnity was paid, they had pawned Mr. Jervis&rsquo; watch and even his wife&apos;s wedding ring and received about $40.  He said he could have gotten more but knew they would be harder to redeem and now he is worried about losing them.  A friend loaned him $35 on his Majestic radio set for which, in his good days, he had paid $193.75 cash.  Their furniture was very meagre, but they did have a three-piece tapestry set,&mdash;two chairs and a sofa, good condition and taste, and there was also a cabinet-model victrola.  The children seemed well and their <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110362">362</controlpgno><printpgno>311</printpgno></pageinfo>bodies looked as if they were cared for, although they hardly had shoes or clothing to cover them.  They were wearing little bathing suits from last summer for underwear.</p></div><div><head>CASE 126<hsep>Merrick House<lb>BENDER<hsep>Cleveland, Ohio</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Ger. parentage) (M. 41); (Irish<lb>parentage) (W. 34)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn</hi>:  <hi rend="italics">15, 13, 11, 8</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Bricklayer<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">seasonal slackness, depression</hi></hi></p><p>In the Bender family we have a man of German parents, and his wife of Irish parents, who are both American born from middle-class families.  They have four children:  Alice, 15; Gertrude; 13; LaVerne, 11, and Wilbur, 8.</p><p>Mr. Bender is the principal wage-earner, although Mrs. Bender has had odd jobs.  The father has been a bricklayer for twenty-one years.  He belongs to the union.  Training and education for bricklaying consisted of going one day every week to the Trade School for four years.  Because he belongs to the union he will not take any other jobs.  During the long period of unemployment from October, 1927, to June, 1928, he did not have one day&apos;s work.  Mrs. Bender tried to get day jobs, but they were of short duration.  She had worked in the laundry for a number of years before she was married, so tried to get back into this work, but succeeded only in getting a few day jobs.  Mr. Bender earned $13 a day when he worked, but there was practically nothing coming in for nine months.</p><p>They live downstairs in a house owned by Mr. Bender&apos;s family, who live upstairs.  They had been used to good standards of living.</p><p>The cause of unemployment in this family was the general business depression.  This was exaggerated by the seasonal work of a bricklayer.  Work was always slack in winter, but for the nine months&apos; period mentioned before he did <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110363">363</controlpgno><printpgno>312</printpgno></pageinfo>not have one day&apos;s employment,&mdash;not that he did not go out every day as usual, but there was no work.  Perhaps union labor conditions in this city were not good, but this man, having been in the union for twenty-one years, could not be persuaded to take any other job.  And as far as could be found out, the union did nothing for him.  His wages had been good when he did work, but with seasonal work it was difficult to make the income spread over the slack period.</p><p>This family suffered keenly from the long period of unemployment.  Their savings were practically nothing.  If they had not lived in the two-family house belonging to Mr. Bender&apos;s father, they never could have gotten along.  Money was borrowed from his brother and sister to help carry a book at the grocery store and meat market.  Union dues were paid by borrowing money from the same source,&mdash;piling up this family indebtedness.  Their furniture was not in very good condition, but it was possible to borrow a little money on it.  In desperation Mrs. Bender raised $40 on her very small diamond ring, which helped them through another short time.  Mrs. Bender, as mentioned before, was not able to obtain steady work.  Bender complained at this time of the importing of men from nearby towns to do work in Cleveland.  When in former years, a job would last a certain time, now they brought in more men to speed up production and thereby finish the job in half the time.</p><p>The union dues of $35 to $45 a year had to be paid.  Mrs. Bender took her brother in as a boarder to help.  He had to sleep on a davenport in the living room because the house was already well occupied.</p><p>There were many evidences of lowered standards in the material welfare of this household.  When they were buying &ldquo;from hand to mouth&rdquo; with no chance to plan ahead, the diet was far from adequate.  They simply existed on as little as possible.  Up to this time, the Benders had not been known to any other social agency except the settlement, neither did they want to be known, having always been self-supporting.  But through friends of the settlement, <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110364">364</controlpgno><printpgno>313</printpgno></pageinfo>much-needed clothes for the children were sent to them.  It would have been impossible at times for the children to go to school if they had not accepted this help.  As for house furnishings, they were meagre. They formerly had standards which meant having a living room,&mdash;but soon there was no rug on the floor; it was just <hi rend="italics">worn out.</hi>  This embarrassed Mrs. Bender very much when the visitor would go there.  Accordingly other things in the house became more shabby and deteriorated, and it was very hard for the children to have their friends come in.  The school nurse has now told the mother that three of the children need tonsillectomies; one, however, was so imperative that she was taken care of at the City Hospital free of charge.  Dental work was also needed but not as easily arranged; therefore it was not done so that both Mrs. Bender and the children had very bad teeth conditions.  This little woman was quite a sensitive type, with not as much courage as was needed for this crisis, and still holding up as well as she could.  She tried to get a steady laundry job, but was not able to find one and if she had, would not have been physically able to keep it.  But she did get some fine laundry work to do and even that was hard for her.</p><p>Mr. Bender&apos;s confidence and reliance in the trade union was the principal issue in this predicament.  he went on from week to week confident that things would open up.  This was done at the expense of his family&apos;s welfare and the general atmosphere of the home.  He was sullen and irritable and many a family quarrel resulted from the complaining and unhappiness of Mrs. Bender.  Most of the interviews were with her, but when the visitor did meet Mr. Bender, she noticed a great lack of self-respect, and much embarrassment.  And while Mrs. Bender complained much at home, the children said she always tried to conceal it when with the visitor.  She was a nervous person and though she tried to help him and tried to be brave, her courage gave out at times.  As the four children in this family were all under fourteen, the confidence in their parents was hardly <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110365">365</controlpgno><printpgno>314</printpgno></pageinfo>shaken.  They were over hopeful and always confident, except the oldest girl, who was inclined to complain, as she perhaps felt the pinch a little more.  During the summer she was placed at housework, but did not stay long although entirely satisfactory to her employer.  There was a lack of co&ouml;rdination in the family evidenced by general lowering of standards due to lack of money.</p><p>The future in this family seems to be nothing but debts and worry.  All the time they accepted rent from Mr. Bender&apos;s people, it was increasing their responsibilities.  While this family may not hold them to return every cent, they will have to try.  All the other financial worries prohibited relaxation and also recreation.  Mrs. Bender did not continue coming to Mothers&rsquo; Club as we had hoped she would.  The girls have come to classes but not regularly.  They have slipped back in every direction.  The children are suffering from the effects of such depression in the home.  Alice, who was ready for high school, because she is under working age, will go.  She had aspirations to be a nurse, but her mother could not promise she could go through with it.  As for the other children&apos;s future it looks even more doubtful, unless the father can get enough work to catch up.  The prospects of their starting to work at sixteen look more than possible.  Mr. Bender&apos;s family is sometimes out of work also; so it cannot go on helping indefinitely.  This home has lost stability and there is no security for the future.</p></div><div><head>CASE 127<hsep>Merrick House<lb>BENDIK<hsep>Cleveland, Ohio</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer,</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Sloe, percentage)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi> 13, 10, 5<lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Machinist<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>Mrs. Bendik is Mr. Bendik&apos;s second wife.  They have three children,&mdash;Lawrence, 13; Mildred, 10; and Robert, 5.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110366">366</controlpgno><printpgno>315</printpgno></pageinfo><p>Mr. Bendik, the principal wage-earner, was a woodworking machine operator, also a bench-assembler machinist.  His first short-time jobs were as a woodworking operator, serving his apprenticeship while on the job for eight or ten years.  He was then employed as a bench-assembler, and worked at a local concern making electric automobiles, from 1920 to 1925.  He then went back to the woodworking machine at a refrigerator company from 1925 to 1927.  At this job he was earning 95 cents an hour, amounting almost to $8 a day.</p><p>This high-type family with good standards and a steady income was coming along nicely.  They lived in a small single house, next to Mrs. Bendik&apos;s mother, paying $25 a month rent.  The children went to the Slovak parochial school and are exceptionally attractive, bright children.  Mrs. Bendik, a cheerful, brave little person, was always ready to help her husband.  They were both around 30 when they married, and their home and children meant a great deal to them.  They were purchasing a lot in a nearby suburb, paying on it a little at a time.</p><p>Mr. Bendik was primarily the victim of the general unemployment situation, but entering into it also was the market change from wood to iron and steel.  He had been a woodworker for a number of years, but when the change first came, he took a job as a bench-assembler.  Still wanting to go back to his original occupation, he obtained work at a local refrigerator company for two years.  From May, 1927, until November, 1928, he was out of work, which meant that the income was entirely cut off. Mr. Bendik&apos;s brother, a fireman, got him a job doing street repair work in front of his fire station.  This was digging in the street, a hard laboring job.  He earned 85 cents an hour but could only stand it two weeks, because it was physically impossible for him to continue.  Aside from these two weeks, he did not have one other day&apos;s work in the eighteen months of unemployment.</p><p>When a family income that had been well planned, well spent and well accounted for, was suddenly stopped, the hardship was most apparent.  Saying &ldquo;well accounted for&rdquo; <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110367">367</controlpgno><printpgno>316</printpgno></pageinfo>means they were able to meet current expenses and upkeep and buy a small lot in a suburban district, planning to build their future home.  There were also small savings of $200 and this, of course, was the first thing to be used.  Much to their sorrow and disappointment, the next thing to do was to sell the lot.  This necessarily took some time, during which Mrs. Bendik&apos;s mother and brother helped them.  They were not able to pay their rent at all, but the landlord was lenient, having known the family for many years.  At this time he knew their circumstances and did not come to collect.  They paid very seldom and the amount kept piling up; they are now just finishing that indebtedness.  Finally a real estate man sold the lot; they got around $1,100 for it, which was selling it at some sacrifice.  Money was also raised on an insurance policy amounting to $300.  They did not apply anywhere for help.  Mr. Bendik simply went out day after day hoping to get a job.  He also did not want his wife to work, feeling that she was needed at home since the children were still quite small.  Though she had not worked since she had been married, she continually spoke of the necessity of helping her husband.  They were not forced to pawn articles, but on the other hand nothing could be replaced, so that things generally became run down.</p><p>This family were not able to keep up their usual standards.  They had been accustomed to nice things, which soon had to be given up.  Mrs. Bendik, being a faithful member of our Mothers&rsquo; Club, was most embarrassed by her lack of new clothes.  It was evident she was wearing her unmarried sister&apos;s cast-off clothing, blouses that had been dyed and coats that were most shabby.  She managed to keep the two older children who were in school clean and neat in made-over things, explaining that the little boy at home did not need as much.  There were evidences of underweight in the two older children which are still present, possibly showing the result of the long period of close food planning.  Mrs. Bendik took advantage of courses given our Mothers&rsquo; Club by the Red Cross Teaching Center.  These courses consisted <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110368">368</controlpgno><printpgno>317</printpgno></pageinfo>in &ldquo;Home Care of the Sick,&rdquo; &ldquo;Food Balance and Planning of Meals&rdquo;, and &ldquo;First Aid&rdquo;, altogether they helped her to give her family more intelligent care.  The children&apos;s teeth were looked after in school, but the mother&apos;s bridge work, which needed attention, was left undone and looked bad.  Fortunately, the general health of this family remained good during all this time.  As I have said, the children are quite pale and pasty now, but are still being given cod liver oil and other safeguards which the mother is capable of planning for them.</p><p>In this family situation Mr. Bendik faced the difficulty with an attitude of bravery, fortitude and courage.  He went out day after day, lining up with the crowds, but to no avail.  Mrs. Bendik said she could tell by his very step coming in that he had not gotten work.  He had never asked charity and dreaded doing so.  When the time came, they sold the prized lot without flinching.  Mr. Bendik said, &ldquo;We are lucky to have it to fall back upon.&rdquo;  All this time he was hoping to get work he had been trained for, but of course, would take almost anything and work for less money.  Mrs. Bendik was even more courageous than her husband.  People remarked that they didn&apos;t see how she could laugh or enjoy any fun, but she explained it was for her family&apos;s sake she was keeping up.  Her husband&apos;s attitude around the house was naturally more dejected, so she tried to keep smiling, saying it wouldn&apos;t help matters to weep and still I know that was a struggle for her.  She came faithfully to Mother&apos;s Club during that time.  Her husband did not want her to work, so she kept putting it off.  In citing her story, she told what a good man her husband was,&mdash;he did not drink or go out with any crowd, and still he said, he would not blame a fellow for holding up someone when things looked as blue as they did to him then.  As their children were young, and because of the woman&apos;s cheerful attitude in the home, they seemed to have implicit faith in their parents.</p><p>After nineteen months of unemployment, Mr. Bendik <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110369">369</controlpgno><printpgno>318</printpgno></pageinfo>went with a metal window-stripping  company, giving up any hope of doing woodwork.  At the time he was discharged in May, 1927, he was earning 95 cents an hour; in November, 1928, he went back to work at 55 cents an hour.  The first and foremost thought of this family was the prospect of building and owning their own home, which they had planned to build quite simply on this suburban lot.  They felt that after twelve years, they were at &ldquo;the bottom of the ladder,&rdquo; and worse off than when they stated out,&mdash; with their savings gone, bills piled up, insurance dues in arrears and three children&apos;s futures to think of.</p><p>As their children are young, no one will be able to assist finacially for quite a number of years.  Mrs. Bendik, while coming from a good family, has no one who could help her; on the other hand; an invalid brother might some time be an incumbrance.  While they are still making up a deficit in back rent, nothing has been put aside for future use. Lawrence is an unusually fie boy,&mdash;quite, studious and altogether the type that would make good, though he probably will not have the necessary education because of the financial situation in the family.  Whether the younger children will be able to go ahead with their education is a matter which cannot be predicted at present.</p><p>The children and Mrs. Bendick have come regularly to the settlement for their recreation.</p></div><div><head>CASE 128<hsep>Willoughdy House<lb>DONNELLY<hsep>Brooklyn, N. Y.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.  </hi> (<hi rend="italics">Irish parentage</hi>) (M. 31)<lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  11, 6, 3, 2<lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Foundry Worker<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>Thomas Donnelly and his wife are Irish-American.</p><p>Tom Donnelly was worked in a foundry ever sice he was <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110370">370</controlpgno><printpgno>319</printpgno></pageinfo>17, and is a molder&apos;s helper, earning $30 a week.  In his last place he worked for two years and lost his job through slackness in production.  When such times come, men who have been on the job longest are kept.  Donnelly is a steady worker but has had these periods of unemploymennt often.</p><p>The family life been a happy one.  Mr. Donnelly is an exceptionally devoted husband and father.  Their home is eat, though meagerly furnished.  The four children are all normal and attrative.</p><p>Mr. Donnelly has now been out of work six weeks and has had no substitute work, even though he has applied at employment agencies and for jobs advertised.  He seems to have no confidence to apply for any kind of work except that which he knows and has done.</p><p>The family has no savings nor anything to pawn.  They are well thought of in the neighborhood.  The landlord has been lenient with them and the neighborhood store has given them credit.  The insurance agent himself has carried the father&apos;s insurance.  They have a large number of debts but have not applied for help from any source.  Mrs. Donnelly has put her children in the nursery so she could work cleaning offices.  She feared to get any deeper into debt.</p><p>She is now frightfully high-strung and appears to be at the breaking point.</p><p>The anxiety of the parents has now extended to the children, but with it, there is great pride.</p><p>With the periodic crises which have been the lot of this family there has been no opportunity to save, for the income is barely adequate even when steady.  There is nothing to look forward to for the children in the way of increased opportunities.  Even though it will be several years before any one of them will be old enough to work, it is likely that schooling will cease as soon as the law permits.</p><p>The only way we learned of their plight was through Mary&apos;s interest in the Campfire Girls and her persistent refusal to join it or any other class where a small expenditure of money was necessary.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110371">371</controlpgno><printpgno>320</printpgno></pageinfo><p>When we tried to persuade her to tell us why she could not join, she told us to ask her mother.  It was then we learned that they did not have money for the bare necessities.</p><p>(<hi rend="italics">Note:</hi>  Mr. Donnelly has just secured work in another foundry through a newspaper advertisement.)</p></div><div><head>CASE 129<hsep>Neighborhood House<lb>JAMES<hsep>Salt Lake City, Utah</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 37; W. 36)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">17, 15, 12, 8, 4, 2</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Laborer:  Son also Laborer<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><hi rend="italics">seasonal slackness</hi></hi></p><p>In the James family, there are six children,&mdash;three boys and three girls.  They range in age from 2 to 17 years.</p><p>Mrs. James came first to the settlement for a class in gymnastics eighteen years ago and has been a neighbor ever since.  Some of the children have been in the day nursery.</p><p>Of the breadwinners, no one has regular work.  Mr. James has earned only $59 since October, 1928.  Before that he worked as a laborer at a smelter at $4.50 a day.  John, the oldest child, worked as a laborer at $3.20 a day, laying pipes for a short time until he was laid off on account of his age.  Mrs. James often gets orders for sewing, etc.</p><p>Mr. James went to the 8th grade and has had no special training.  He is handy with tools and is a fair mechanic, but is usually employed as a laborer.  He worked for four years at a gas plant and was laid off when the management changed.  Then he worked irregularly at a smelter making from $3.65 to $5 a day.  Work is usually steady in the summer, but he is out of work nearly in all winter, except for odd jobs.  Mr. James is strong, makes a good appearance, and is devoted to his wife and children.</p><p>Salt Lake City has not enough all-year industries to employ <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110372">372</controlpgno><printpgno>321</printpgno></pageinfo>the laboring men living there.  Every winter there are many family men out of work,&mdash;often idle for several months with only an occasional odd job to tide them over.</p><p>During the years that Mr. James worked steadily, they has saved enough money to pay back bills (among them doctors&rsquo; bills amounting at one time to $500) as well as running expenses.  Mrs. James&rsquo; mother has taken care of her daughter during every confinement.  Since employment has been irregular, they have used their savings and have been getting further behind.  Now their rent is overdue and the light has been turned off.  Their insurance is paid up, but Mrs. James&rsquo; mother is paying for her daughter&apos;s.  It has been necessary to pawn Mrs. James&rsquo; wedding ring and her husband&apos;s ring and watch.  They have also sold clothes, but they have little of value.  Mr. James&rsquo; father aided by making payments on the $100 car that was used by his son when his work was out of town.  They expect to repay this money, however.</p><p>Mrs. James, who is quite capable, works whenever possible.  She has had to give up her steady work in factories and dressmaking establishments when the babies came, and now finds it better to depend upon jobs which can be done at home.</p><p>This family has moved several times in the same neighborhood, but each house has been slightly cheaper than the last.  Mrs. James&rsquo; father now boards with them.</p><p>The church helped at Christmas, but they hope later to repay this.  The settlement house has often given Mrs. James opportunity to secure sewing orders, and has given milk, taken the children in the nursery, etc.  Relatives have also helped, but this family tries to follow the policy of repaying the money or giving its value in service,&mdash;perhaps making clothes for the children.</p><p>They are doing  remarkably well in keeping the home as comfortable as it is under the circumstances.  Mrs. James, with her knowledge of food values, is careful about her table.  As for clothes, she says they seldom spend more than <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110373">373</controlpgno><printpgno>322</printpgno></pageinfo>$10 a year, buying from the Rummage Shop, and making over what is given them.</p><p>There has been almost no illness lately in the home.  No malnutrition or undernourishment has been reported by the school examiners.  The children&apos;s teeth now need care which is being arranged for by the school clinic.</p><p>Mr. James worries over his inability to support the family.  He wants little for himself.  He is very obliging and ready to do a good turn for a neighbor or friend.  Opportunities to make money bootlegging have been repeatedly refused.</p><p>Mrs. James handles all the money and the bills.  Her family has no sympathy for Mr. James and thinks she should have left him long ago,&mdash;that there is no comfort for their in the future.  She, however, believes that his loyalty to her and the children, with no bad habits like drinking, and their happy home life in spite of poverty, are better than a broken home, so she faces the future with courage though without much confidence.</p><p>John, 17, did not care for school and was glad to get a working permit and leave after completing the 8th grade.  For nearly a year, he worked at bakery at $8 a week, then at a garage at $14 a week, but work soon became slack and he was laid off.  Then for a short time he had work as a laborer.  His real interest is in music.</p><p>There would seem to be no prospect of future advantages for the children or parents, except that which is free.  They enjoy all the public benefits,&mdash;libraries, parks, school, church and club entertainments.  John is musical but sees no chance to develop his talents.  Professionals say that one of the little girls may have a future as a dancer if trained.  She will be able to take free lessons soon.  They can all sing and are used to making the best of things and enjoying the happiness of the moment.  Whether this spirit will prevail when the children are older unless better times come, is a question which even the naturally cheerful Mrs. James does not like to face.</p></div><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110374">374</controlpgno><printpgno>323</printpgno></pageinfo><div><head>CASE 130<hsep>Union Settlement<lb>DE ANGELO<hsep>New York City, N. Y.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Ital.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 39; W. 34)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">14, 11, 8</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Laborer; Wife, Office Cleaner<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">seasonal slackness</hi></hi></p><p>Four years ago the De Angelos moved from a suburb where rents were high into their present home across the street from the settlement.  These rooms are not attractive except that the two kitchen windows face south, but the monthly rental is only $15, and the location more convenient for the father of the family, who is frequently out of work and in search of a job.  The children come to classes at the settlement, but the parents, because there are no others of their own kind among the neighbors, have held aloof from the adult activities of the house, though they have become fast friends with a number of the workers.</p><p>They are North Italian people from the farming country northwest of Milan.  The children, a 14-year-old daughter, Rosa, and two younger sons (11,8), were born in America.  The entire family is endowed with good looks, gracious manners and attractive personality.  Their home is bare of all but the few things indispensable to existence; there is not a single article which serves merely for comfort or ornamentation.  It is, however, kept clean and in order, and the quiet hospitality of the De Angelos&rsquo; welcome gives it an air that somehow sets apart a visit to them from the ordinary experiences of everyday living.  An hour&apos;s talk with the family brings forth reminscences of Italy and bits of philosophy from the parents and a spirit of comradeliness and mutual helpfulness among them all from which it is plain that their lives have richness and that here is a successful experiment in family relationships.</p><p>This desirable result has been attained at great cost and its continuance is made possible only by persistent courage, <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110375">375</controlpgno><printpgno>324</printpgno></pageinfo>careful planning, and an undue share of hard work on the part of the mother, and perseverance in the face of worry and discouragement on the part of the father.</p><p>Mr. De Angelo came of a large family.  He went to work early at manual labor.  He works for builders and his work reflects the seasonal character of the building trades.  The constant obligation to earn a livelihood for those dependent upon him has held him at this level.  He is a good worker, and things went well while work was steady and the children were young.  Sometimes he had to leave the family for months at a time in order to get work, going once to Maryland, once as far as West Virginia, but work was to be had if he looked for it.  Then came a winter four years ago when he was unemployed for five months.  Now and then the boss would send for him, but it would be for only a week or two.  Everywhere there were scores of men looking for the same sort of jobs.</p><p>Since that first crisis, the situation has not improved, but repeats itself each winter.  It no longer pays to leave the city and go elsewhere in search of work; the expense and the chance of failure are too great.  Mr. De Angelo just walks the streets day after day, on the chance of finding a few days&rsquo;, even a few hours&rsquo; employment.  The family has pulled through somehow.  During the first bad winter they moved into cheaper quarters.  The following summer, in order not to be caught again with no resources, they saved every penny they could.  Mrs. De Angelo not only manages the household as thriftily as she knows how and makes all the clothing worn by herself and the children, but works six nights a week from six until ten o&apos;clock in an office building at some distance from her home, cleaning twenty-six offices each evening for $13 per week.  Cleaning an office involves mopping the floor, sweeping the rug, emptying wastebaskets and ash-trays, dusting and straightening the furniture&mdash;all this for slightly more than eight cents per room.  This wage, with their small savings, supports the family during the slack time.  The settlement has recently awarded Rosa a scholarship carrying <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110376">376</controlpgno><printpgno>325</printpgno></pageinfo>$20 a month, in exchange for a few hours&rsquo; service each week to the settlement at some pleasant and usually instructive task, such as switchboard operating, tending game room, or helping with clubs of younger girls.</p><p>The De Angelos do not complain and have never asked assistance in any form.  They do not even discuss their affairs with outsiders, though they willingly filled in the details of their experience when they understood that to do so might help improve the unemployment situation.  They were willing to have Rosa accept the scholarship only when it was explained to them that she would actually earn part of the money and that her good record at school showed that her education would be of value to many others as well as to her own family.</p></div><div><head>CASE 131<hsep>Little House<lb>O&apos;CONNOR<hsep>Boston, Mass.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Irish</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. died 1918; W. 58)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">30, 28, 24, 22, 20, 18, 16, 14</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Scrubwoman</hi> (<hi rend="italics">mother</hi>); 2 <hi rend="smallcaps">Daughters,<lb>Dept. Store Office Workers; Son,<lb>Shoe Factory Worker<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">seasonal factors, mechanization, etc.</hi></hi></p><p>The O&apos;Connors had eight children.  The father, who was a coal loader, became ill in 1917, and died in 1918.  The mother had gone to work in 1917, and scrubbed offices for six years, when her health made it necessary for her to give up this work.  Marie, at 14, left the 7th grade and obtained work in a department store.  When the father died, Norma (then 16, and in the 8th grade) and Joseph (then 14) left school and went to work.</p><p>Marie has worked in the same department store (now receiving $16 a week) for sixteen years.  She is home at least four months out of twelve because of ill health.  She <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110377">377</controlpgno><printpgno>326</printpgno></pageinfo>has been home now for two months.  Norma (28) at first worked in a factory and attended night school, but now is employed in a department store office at $16 a week.  Joseph (24), after leaving school at 14, went to night school for five years.  His work in the packing room of a shoe factory is seasonal and he works only about seven months a year and then only two or three days a week,&mdash;seldom a full week.  Full week wages would amount to $19, but more likely $10 or $12 is all he is able to make.  Clarice (22) has been married a year and a half and lives in her own home.  She also had found it necessary to leave school before finishing the grammar grades, to obtain work in a department store.  Martin (20) completed three years of the Mechanics Arts High School course by the time he was 16, and then secured odd jobs for two years at a shoe factory.  On account of the labor-saving machinery which he had even helped to install, he has had no work for two years, except a day now and then.  Jerry (18) left in his third year in high school, and learned a trade in a shoe factory.  He belongs to the union and earns $25 a week.  Annie (16) is now in the third year of high school, and Mary (14) in her first year of high school.</p><p>The O&apos;Connors have not received relief, nor have they run into debt.  If in arrears, they have always caught up.</p><p>For eighteen years, this family of eight adults has lived in the save five-room tenement with no conveniences.  Every room is a bedroom.  They try to have a living room in which is a folding bed.  The rooms are small and there is no bathroom.</p><p>Defective teeth and temporary illnesses are not attended to as they should be.  Marie has been in bed with arthritis for two months, Annie&apos;s teeth need attention, and Mary is on the verge of chorea.</p><p>Mrs. O&apos;Connor censures and nags the children.  I have heard her say to Martin in my presence, &ldquo;This boy won&apos;t work,&rdquo;&mdash;when I know he goes out every morning looking for work.  The boys as well as the girls are keenly disappointed <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110378">378</controlpgno><printpgno>327</printpgno></pageinfo>because they could not remain in school.  They do not complain to their mother, and try to conceal their disappointment from her.  The harmony among the children has not been disturbed, but the mother thinks they will not work and is constantly telling them so.  She cannot understand the impossibility of procuring work.</p><p>The unemployment situation has prevented their attaining the best which their ambitions and desires make them capable of appreciating.  Joseph had definite dramatic ability and loves good plays; he reads everything he can get.  Both Jerry and Joseph did well in school.  Annie is an excellent student,&mdash;highly intelligent and dependable.  She is eager to become a teacher, but the difficulty of keeping her in school is so great that I fear they cannot manage it.  The older children constantly say to the younger ones,&mdash&ldquo;You must stay in school.  There is no future for you otherwise.&rdquo;  Annie spends much of her leisure time in the settlement.  Mary also is in two clubs.</p><p>These young people care very little for the &ldquo;movies&rdquo; and seldom go.  They prefer to save their money until they have enough for cheap seats at a &ldquo;real show.&rdquo;  They all belong to the public library and read a great deal.</p><p>In their five small rooms they have no place to entertain their friends and these girls feel they cannot visit their friends because they cannot entertain in return.  They spend their evenings at home either reading, or washing and ironing their clothes in order to keep presentable for their store jobs.</p><p>The mother worries but will not go into debt, insisting that they must save something, pay insurance and live on what Norma and Jerry earn a week.  So they try to be cheerful and, although discouraged, when you sit down and talk with them, they keep up a brave appearance and say, &ldquo;Better times surely must be coming.&rdquo;</p></div><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110379">379</controlpgno><printpgno>328</printpgno></pageinfo><div><head>CASE 132<hsep>Social Service Public Schools<lb>MAYNARD<hsep>Indianapolis, Ind.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> (<hi rend="italics">M, 38, W. 38</hi>)<lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">16, 10</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Stenographer<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">business vicissitudes (consolidation of<lb>offices)</hi></hi></p><p>The Maynard family consists of Mr. and Mrs. Maynard and their two sons, 16 and 10 years of age.  Mr. Maynard is in a penitentiary for a long time.</p><p>Mrs. Maynard, who is a stenographer, is the breadwinner, having had a high school and some business school education.  Normally, their standard of living would be called good.</p><p>Because of the consolidation of offices where Mrs. Maynard was previously employed, she lost her regular work, and has been able since that time to secure only temporary positions, which seriously depleted the income.  This situation has existed for about a year.</p><p>This family had no savings, having become somewhat involved in debt, so had taken in two roomers.  Relatives and private and public agencies have also been called upon to render some assistance.</p><p>The consequences of unemployment in this instance have been rather extreme.  The home has had to be broken up and Mrs. Maynard is at present in a sanatorium, having been placed there by a social agency.  The two boys are in boarding home at the expense of relatives and the social agency.</p><p>To what extent future values have been impaired cannot at present be stated.  The boys, of course, are deprived of their own home and mother for some time at least.  Their educational opportunities will be largely determined by those who are supporting them,&mdash;in this case, relatives and a social agency.</p></div><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110380">380</controlpgno><printpgno>329</printpgno></pageinfo><div><head>CASE 133<hsep>Norfolk House Centre<lb>PATON<hsep>Roxnury, Mass.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> (<hi rend="italics">Fr. Com. parentage) (M. 56);<lb>(Irish Com. parentage) (W. 52)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">17, 12</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Skilled Shoe-Worker<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb> <hi rend="italics">depression, advancing age</hi></hi></p><p>Mr. And Mrs. Paton were both born in New England.  They have two daughters,&mdash;Jeanne, 12, and Lilly, 17.</p><p>Mr. Paton&apos;s father was a shoe manufacturer in New York State, who failed during the financial panic of the Cleveland Administration.  Young Paton had learned his trade of edge-trimmer in his father&apos;s factory.  Edge-trimming requires exact work and Paton ranks well in his trade.  Besides the shoe business, Mr. Paton was in the army a number of years.  He was sent to the front in the Spanish-American War.  His education, we believe, was limited to the grades.  However, he seems to be a careful business man.</p><p>When the Patons were first known to the Norfolk House Centre in 1912, they were living in a very good neighborhood of apartment houses.  Their home ($48 a month rent) was comfortable, with sufficient room to accommodate the family of four.  The parents had their own room and the children had their rooms.  There was also a good-sized kitchen, dining-room, sitting-room, bathroom and a porch with sun exposure, and the house was steam-heated.</p><p>Since the war, &ldquo;times&rdquo; have not been so good for this family.  The first crash came when the large shoe company, Thompson and Crocker, went out of business about three years ago.  As Mr. Paton was employed there, this left him without a position.  Since that time, he has been employed with a smaller concern.  He has always had work part of the time, but loss of time from short days and from periods of days and weeks without work has reduced his income between <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110381">381</controlpgno><printpgno>330</printpgno></pageinfo>one-quarter to one-third of the former amount.  When his firm has work to do, he is given employment.</p><p>One of the causes given for the lack of work in the shoe trade is the importation of shoes at lower prices.  Also, there is the trend of the shoe trade away from Massachusetts.</p><p>The family is a thirty one.  Money had been saved for the children&apos;s education and for other future needs.  Their bank account has been drawn upon but not entirely used up. Last winter money was withdrawn for six months to pay the rent.  This fall they moved to cheaper and smaller quarters. They still live in a good neighborhood, are not in debt, and have not received any aid.</p><p>While the new home is fairly comfortable, the family has been sick a great deal since living there.  The older daughter was out of school two weeks this winter.  The mother feels that this ill health is due largely to the difficulty in heating the apartment.</p><p>The children have been carefully clothed.  In order that they may not appear shabby, the parents themselves have gone without new clothes whenever possible.</p><p>There is a fine spirit of co&ouml;peration in this family.  The parents have spared the children undue sacrifice,&mdash;taking the brunt of the burden themselves.</p><p>The pressure has been such that the older daughter would have been put to work to help out if she had not been doing so well in high school.  This being the case, every effort is being made to allow her to finish.</p><p>The parents, however, are full of worry and anxiety.  The situation makes for irritability in the family,&mdash;there being constant restraint and anxiety in spending the weekly allowance.  If two or more years should follow with the same amount of reduction in the family income, the situation would be quite drastic.  The inroad already made in their savings has made it impossible for the older daughter to go on to normal school,&mdash;her greatest ambition.  She is not strong, but declares she will earn her way through normal school in order to become a sewing teacher.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110382">382</controlpgno><printpgno>331</printpgno></pageinfo><p>This home as it is today is still a place of security for the children, but if unemployment continues there will be no hope for the children to go beyond high school, and even this may be denied unless the mother takes up some kind of work.  Added to these problems, there is also that of the parents&rsquo; approaching old age.</p></div><div><head>CASE 134<hsep>North Toledo Community House<lb>WHALEN<hsep>Toledo, Ohio</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Irish</hi> (M. 52); <hi rend="smallcaps">Polish</hi> (W. 44)<lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">24, 21, 18, 15, 14, 13, 10, 8,<lb>2&half;, 1&half;</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Construction Laborer<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">seasonal stackness</hi></hi></p><p>Our neighbors, the Whales, about to be discussed are frequent visitors at the Community House.  The oldest of the ten children, a young man of 24, is a mute, and has recently been sent to an institution for the deaf and dumb.  The 21-year-old daughter, the mother of two children, has been divorced.  The eight remaining children range in age from 1&half; to 18 years.</p><p>At the present time, there are three breadwinners,&mdash;the father, a construction laborer; the 18-year-old boy, a clerk in one of the larger department stores, and the mother, working at night in a factory.  The father and mother have had very little education, and the boy left grade school in order to work.</p><p>The father&apos;s work is seasonal and although he sometimes earns from $50 to $60 a week, the period of unemployment is longer than that of employment and bills accumulate. The 18-year-old boy has been working from time to time for the past two years.  The mother works at night only during spring and summer.  When there is no work for her at <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110383">383</controlpgno><printpgno>332</printpgno></pageinfo>the nearby factory, she earns small amounts by taking in washing and making and selling paper flowers.  When the father is unemployed, he receives a very small amount from the labor union in which he holds an office.</p><p>During the prosperous period, extra money is used up rapidly to pay back debts and meet immediate demands, so there is little chance to get ahead.  The younger boys (14 and 15) work in a store after school and the 13-year-old girl takes care of a neighbor&apos;s children.  Relief has been given in a small way by interested people, but seldom from relief organizations.</p><p>Apparently they have been able to keep up their normal standards.  There is little sickness in the family and no complaint has been received from the school nurse as to mal-nutrition.  They have lived in the same house for more than three years and although all the rooms, except the kitchen and bathroom, are used for sleeping there is a fair amount of fresh air and light.  During the periods of unemployment the clothing wears out and sometimes it is necessary to keep the children out of school on this account.  Very little furniture is bought, but occasionally something badly worn is replaced on the instalment plan.  Clothes are also sometimes bought on this plan.  At the present time, Mrs. Whalen needs an operation but cannot afford it, either financially or in absence from the family hearth.</p><p>The father gets quite discouraged when unemployed.  He dislikes to have his wife working in a factory and wants her to stay at home whenever he is working.  She argues that this is not always possible if she wishes to find her place at the factory when he is out of work.  Mr. Whalen would like to pay his back bills promptly, but most of the financial responsibility rests with the wife after he turns over his pay.</p><p>There is marked respect on the part of the children toward their parents and quite an independent feeling on the part of the whole family.  The children are taught to help,&mdash;each <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110384">384</controlpgno><printpgno>333</printpgno></pageinfo>one doing his share of the household work.  There is no boot-legging and little drinking on the part of Mr. Whalen.</p><p>Unemployment may be one of the reasons for the children&apos;s wanting to leave school before they are through, especially the boys.  The shortage of spending money and clothes makes them anxious to earn for themselves.  Also they must often stay at home because of lack of proper clothing, which puts them behind with their lessons and naturally causes dissatisfaction with school.  It is hoped that the 13-year-old- girl may have an opportunity to go to high school.</p></div><div><head>CASE 135<hsep>College Settlement<lb>PASQUALE<hsep>Philadelphia, Pa.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Ital.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 40, W. 35)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">14, 13, 12, 10, 8</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Laborer<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">seasonal stackness</hi></hi></p><p>Mr. and Mrs. Pasquale were born in Italy.  Mr. Pasquale is a laborer, and earns $22 a week.  He had only two years of schooling in Italy.  He is a strong able-bodied man and a steady worker when work is available.  He is keenly interested in his family of six children: Annie, 14; Michael, 13; Carmen, 12; Joseph, 10; Samuel, 8; and Frank, 3.  Mrs. Pasquale is a careful manager and intelligent in caring for and rearing her children.  There is a strong family tie between the parents and children.  The atmosphere of the clean, neat home is usually harmonious.</p><p>Mr. Pasquale has been out of work since December 15, 1928, because of seasonal slackness, and has been unable to get any substitute work.</p><p>Mrs. Pasquale had to use her savings for an operation about a year ago.  The rent is $20 per month and is paid up to date.  They carry no insurance.  Mrs. Pasquale does not usually buy on the instalment plan, but felt that she had to <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110385">385</controlpgno><printpgno>334</printpgno></pageinfo>get the boys new suits.  She is now paying $2 per week to a  purchasing agent for clothing.</p><p>Mrs. Pasquale worked in a clothing factory for three  months, but the work was too heavy for her.  She and Annie  are doing work at home now on men&apos;s coats, earning $1.50  per day working until 10 and 11 p.m. Michael has shoe  polishing outfit and goes out on the streets in the business  section.  Competition here is very keen and Michael does not  ear much.  So far, the family has not received help from  any source.</p><p>Because of the mother&apos;s careful management, the material  welfare of the family has been kept up. The children have a  strong physical inheritance and do not show any symptoms of  ill health.</p><p>The psychological consequences are more marked.  Mr.  Pasquale has resigned himself to his fate.  He does not know  what he can do about it, particularly when so many other  men are facing the same situation.  He has not lost his self-respect  or self-reliance, however.  Mrs. Pasquale is very  anxious about her financial difficulties,  Annie, who had to  stop school because of her father&apos;s unemployment, has assumed  the responsibilities and the mental attitude of an adult.  She  was unable to get work outside, so she sews at home on  men&apos;s coats. The boys take out the basting stitches and help  with the housework in the evenings.  There is no change in  the attitude of the children toward their parents.  They know  their father is willing to work when he can get it.  The moral  standards of the family are high.</p><p>The Pasquale children are above the average in their  school work.  Annie gave up her schooling reluctantly.  Michael  is now in the eighth grade and wants to go high  school very much, but if his father is unable to get work,  he will have to leave school when 14 years old.</p><p>The family at present is more concerned about securing  the bare necessities of life than recreation or self-improvement.  What we consider the normal wants of childhood and <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110386">386</controlpgno><printpgno>335</printpgno></pageinfo>youth are given very little thought when the food is short,  clothing worn out, and the landlord demanding money for  the rent.  The children hear all the discussions of their financial  difficulties and are aware that the struggle for existence  is theirs as well as the parents.  It would seem that this family tie has become stronger in times of adversity.</p></div><div><head>CASE 136<hsep>Social Service Public Schools<lb>FURNALD<hsep>Indianapolis, Ind.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 42; W. 41)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">19, 18, 17, 12, 11, 9, 7, 5,</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Saleswoman<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">seasonal slackness</hi></hi></p><p>The family consists of Mr. and Mrs. Furnald and their  nine children,&mdash;five girls and four boys.</p><p>Mr. Furnald has been in the Federal Prison for obtaining  money under false pretenses some four or five years, so  Mrs. Furnald is the breadwinner, a saleswoman, with a high  school and two years of normal school education. They have  maintained a good standard of living.  Mrs.  Furnald is a  good mother and housekeeper and an exceptionally good  manager considering that she is absent from the home most  of the time.  The children have been exceptional students in  their school work.</p><p>Because of the nature of Mrs. Furnald&apos;s work she is  periodically finding herself out of work.  The oldest girl  (19) has also been employed in work of a seasonal nature  and the oldest boy (18) has been working for a clothing  establishment which has occasional lay-offs, At one time  within the past six months all three breadwinners were laid  off at the same time.</p><p>This family has no savings, but the mother never allows  the family to become involved in debt.  The oldest girl and <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110387">387</controlpgno><printpgno>336</printpgno></pageinfo>oldest boy are inclined to make purchases on the instalment plan which cause the mother great concern.  They are fairy well covered with industrial insurance which the mother has not allowed to lapse.</p><p>They have taken in one roomer, but this is a woman who proves an asset to them in several ways.  In times of periodic unemployment this family has received assistance from the church and from both private and public agencies.</p><p>The Furnalds are known to be proud and when clothing for the children is not up to normal the children are inclined to miss school and especially church and Sunday School.  Two of the children are physically handicapped and when the economic pressure is great they immediately show results of deprivation.  This family for years has received dispensary and hospital treatment free.</p><p>Mrs. Furnald faces the periodic unemployment with apparent courage.  Although for several years she has found it necessary to accept relief from agencies, she always manifests the desire to get along on her own efforts whenever possible.  I would say from my experience with her that she has not lost her self-respect and self-reliance.  Her children are taught to be helpful and co&ouml;perative in the home in helping to bear the burden of support and responsibility.  For example, the oldest girl would have continued in school, with satisfaction and profit to herself, if the economic condition had no demanded an income from her.  Unusually good harmony and co&ouml;peration seem to exist within the home.</p><p>There has been on the part of the mother and older children an expressed regret that they have not been able to participate in church activities and recreation as they would like to do if they could have afforded it.  The oldest girl is especially fond of dramatics and the oldest boy an especially find dancer and both would like to take some training in these arts but have been unable to afford it.</p></div><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110388">388</controlpgno><printpgno>337</printpgno></pageinfo><div><head>CASE 137<hsep>Kinciley House<lb>GRUCCI<hsep>Pittsburgh, Pa.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Ital</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 42, W. 36)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">14, 12, 10, 9, 5, 4, 2</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Laborer<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">sessional slackness, depression</hi></hi></p><p>Mrs. Grucci (formerly Mrs. Patricca) left Italy in her sixteenth year and came to America with her entire family and settled near Pittsburgh.  Her brothers learned trades and the three girls stayed at home until they married&mdash;Mary marrying at nineteen.  She and her husband had eight very happy years together before Mr. Patricca&apos;s death.  During that time had five children, of whom four are now living:  Angeline, 14; Louis, 12; Rosie, 9; and Joe, 10.  They also started buying the house in which they were living and had paid $2,000 on it (beside the interest and taxes) when Mr. Patricca died.  For the next three years, Mrs. Patricca&apos;s chief aim was to support the children and not lose their home.  She rented the house and went to live with her mother, who cared for the children while she worked in a candy factory all day and did washing in the evenings and Sundays.  After three years of widowhood Mrs. Patricca was threatened with the loss of her house, as the Patriccas had not paid the taxes.  So Mrs. Patricca, in desperation, married her husband&apos;s oldest friend, Dominic Grucci.  He had been a constant guest in her home before her husband&apos;s death and Mrs. Grucci says that though she had never wanted to marry him, for she felt that since she had the &ldquo;bad luck&rdquo; to lose her first husband she wouldn&apos;t want to be married again, still the second marriage did mean savings her home, for Mr. Grucci helped carry the payments.  It also meant a return to the same standards of living the children had known before their father&apos;s death.  There are now three children of this second marriage:  Mary, 5; Theresa, 4; and Raymond, 2.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110389">389</controlpgno><printpgno>338</printpgno></pageinfo><p>Mr. Grucci has always been a laborer, working largely in the building trades and never failing to find steady work until the fall of 1927.  Then he was laid off in September, though usually, in spite of the seasonal nature of his work, he was busy until Christmas and able to start again in March.  From September, 1927, until May, 1928, he looked constantly for work, unable to understand the depression which his friends told him was general.  He had saved a little money but spent most of it throughout the winter in carfare to towns from twenty to fifty miles outside of Pittsburgh where men were supposedly finding jobs.  Completely depressed, he began taking day work, Friday nights in the bakeries, special calls for a day only with one of the electrical companies, but in May, 1928, the cement finisher for whom he had been working took him back for five months of steady work.  However, this was not sufficient to pay all the bills which had accrued in the seven previous months.  The winter of 1928-29 has meant decided changes in food, clothing and morale for the Gruccis, for since the past September, Mr. Grucci has only had three weeks&rsquo; work&mdash;digging ditches for the installation of stop-lights.  His former wages had been $4 or $5 a day and though his work was seasonal, he never lost more than ten weeks&rsquo; work a year.  In contrast to this, the last two winters have brought fourteen months of unemployment.</p><p>Such a long period of unemployment has meant the accumulation of debts so that now neither the grocer nor butcher will allow them any more credit.  There were no savings to meet such an emergency and at present they owe the baker $90, the grocers $120 and $95 to the doctor who cared for Joe when he had pneumonia and Mrs. Grucci when the last baby came.  Beside these, there are taxes on the house for two years amounting to $150 and two years of payments on their home which should have been $5.40 a week, and on which they will have to pay interest as well as the debt.  The unemployment crept upon the Grucci so gradually they did not lose any furniture, though they live <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110390">390</controlpgno><printpgno>339</printpgno></pageinfo>in constant fear of loosing the house or the sympathy of the baker, who practically furnishes their living&mdash;supplying them with bread and milk.</p><p>The oldest boy works after school as an apprentice to a shoemaker, but he does not receive any remuneration except an occasional pair of old shoes.  With seven children and three beds, Mrs. Grucci has no room for lodgers, though she has considered that possibility as a means of support. Mr. Grucci worked for one day for a relief organization, where for a day&apos;s work a basket was sent to the family.  However, when he put on his overcoat in the evening to go home, he found it so full of bedbugs that even the agency worker admitted he could not wear it, and, after suffering that loss, he refused to return to apply for relief or ask for work with that organization.  Their clothes have been given them by Mrs.  Grucci&apos;s family and neighbors.  They have also received a Christmas basket each year from a nearby church.</p><p>Physically, the whole family has suffered greatly.  Joe has had pneumonia four times; Angeline, Louis and the baby had it one during the past two years.  The doctor has said that Angeline, who has just come home from the hospital after three weeks there for observation because of heart trouble, must fruits and green vegetables, but her mother is unable to buy them, so she has only bread and milk.  The children have had whatever care was suggested by the school doctor, free of charge, but three of the children show unmistakable signs of undernourishment.  There has been no renewal of home furnishings in the past two years so that there are not now enough dishes for each member of the family to have his own plate and cup.  The baby has outgrown his cradle, but Mrs. Grucci hesitates to add the baby boy to the bed already filled with four girls, and she feels that Louis and Joe would not care for him if she put him in with them.</p><p>Mr. Grucci was at first baffled and is now passively submissive in regard to the situation in his home.  Mrs.  Grucci has always paid the bills; so he does not have the humiliation <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110391">391</controlpgno><printpgno>340</printpgno></pageinfo>of meeting the tradespeople; but he is sad whenever he sees  the children come in through the snow without overshoes,  or when Mrs. Grucci mentions that they have no underwear  and so must wear their coats in the house.  He eats very  little so that the children may have more.  Whenever a  neighbor tells him where there is work, he is immediately  hopeful, and after going out and failing to find any he  often stays away all day rather than return and admit his  failure.  He has not become bitter, but is unfailingly patient  and kind to the children, though he does lose his temper  with Mrs. Grucci when she beats the children.  He is willing  to take charity from any source other than the one where  he lost his overcoat and his general attitude is still courageous though subdued.</p><p>His wife has become disheartened and critical.  She has  considered going to work, but fears to leave the baby and  feels that having had eight children she has lost much of  her strength and she doubts whether she could work as she  did before.  Mr. Grucci&apos;s objection also deters her.</p><p>The four oldest children feel very strongly the unfairness  of their situation, though none of them blames Mr.  Grucci.  Angeline refuses to go anywhere because of her  clothes, and since her ill health is keeping her out of school  she often does not leave the house except for her weekly  visits to the clinic.  She has only been to a movie twice in the past year, and has not had a new dress for two years.  She  is very fond of fancy work, but refuses to come to the settlement for such a class &ldquo;for fear of the other girls.&rdquo;</p><p>Louis hopes to be earning money as a shoemaker soon,  and has forfeited all pleasures in order to learn the trade.  Instead of coming to the settlement regularly as he has for  the past five years, he spends all his free time in the shop.</p><p>Rosie is a patient, motherly child, who cares for the  younger children, helps her mother and never complains,  though her mother says she occasionally cries because she  does not have any spending money.</p><p>Joe&apos;s ill health has made him quite a problem and he <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110392">392</controlpgno><printpgno>341</printpgno></pageinfo>bitterly resents his inability to do what his gang does, because he has no sled or skates or money for shows.</p><p>The harmony which has always marked the Grucci home  is still apparent, for both the father and mother have an  unusual love for the children.  However, Mr. Grucci has  become more and more silent and seldom plays with the  children now, and Mrs. Grucci confesses that her beating  the children is a recently acquired habit since she&apos;s &ldquo;so disgusted about everything.&rdquo;</p><p>Unemployment is meaning insufficient food and clothing  which is resulting in poor health.  It is denying the children  their normal years of play, sending one to work and keeping  two home where they are becoming very introspective  and unhappy.</p><p>It is partly responsible for the attitude of the fourth  child, who is becoming rebellious and difficult to discipline  even in settlement groups where he is doing what he wishes.</p><p>It has lessened the parents&rsquo; sense of security, and they  now refuse to visit friends and neighbors and confess the  change in their status.  It has changed their mother from  an interested person, full of encouragement and confidence,  to a bewildered, worrying, easily irritated mother whose chief  thought is how to get along best under the existing circumstances&mdash;a thought which leaves little time for interest in  her children&apos;s development.</p></div><div><head>CASE 138<hsep>Jamaica Plain Neighborhood House<lb>DALY<hsep>Boston, Mass.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Irish</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 40; W. 34)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn</hi>:  <hi rend="italics">10, 8, 6, 4</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Laborer<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">seasonal slackness</hi></hi></p><p>Mr. and Mrs. John Daly have been in America about  fifteen years.  The children all started school in our settlement kindergarten, and have always belonged to the various  classes and clubs, and the mother to the Mother&apos;s Club. <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110393">393</controlpgno><printpgno>342</printpgno></pageinfo>Mr. Daly was the only breadwinner, working for a contractor as an unskilled laborer.  He first worked in the coal sheds of a railroad company until the strike in 1922.  Then he was employed by the gas company for a short time, then in the rubber mills as helper on a truck for four years, earning $24 a week.  He was laid off and a younger man employed in his stead for $16.  Then followed a period of irregular employment at laying rails for the elevated railroad.  Later on digging work for Mr. Daly was obtained with a contractor, but with cold weather and frost coming on that kind of employment was eliminated.  The most he was ever able to earn, even with overtime and Sunday work, was $30 a week.  Mrs. Daly took on night work cleaning offices to help out until she was taken ill.</p><p>Seasonal work was the cause of Mr. Daly&apos;s unemployment, which began about the first of December.  He was able to get only a few odd jobs during the three months&rsquo; unemployment except for $15 from the parish priest for shoveling snow around the church and parish buildings.</p><p>What savings they had were used up during the mother&apos;s serious illness.  They are back three months on their rent, but otherwise have no outstanding bills.  They do without any but the bare necessities.  The mother is unable to work any longer, and as they have only three rooms, could find nothing cheaper if they tried.  The landlord seems willing to wait, since they were always able to pay the rent before in the nine years they lived in the house.  They have had to appeal to the Family Welfare for the first time, and received $10 a week.  An aunt and uncle helped a little, but as the aunt died recently, part of that aid has stopped.  The church has done nothing aside from giving Mr. Daly work at snow shoveling.  The settlement is finding some house-cleaning jobs for him as soon as he is able to take them.  At present he is being treated at the City Hospital for a bad knee.</p><p>While the mother was doing night work during one of their periods of unemployment, she struck her head on an <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110394">394</controlpgno><printpgno>343</printpgno></pageinfo>office desk while dusting, and a cancerous growth developed.  She suffered terribly and finally one of the hospitals performed an operation and removed an eye, thereby arresting the growth temporarily.  She is in a very weakened condition and lacks proper rest and sufficient food.  She goes to the hospitals frequently for treatments which are very painful and sometimes is unable to endure them.  While the treatments are free she must remain at the hospital several days at a time and must pay something for the bed.  Katharine, too, has shown the effects of undernourishment for the past year.  The aunt kept her all last summer trying to build her up.</p><p>Mr. Daly feels keenly the present situation.  He has always hated not to work and would do anything to keep busy.  He keeps on looking and says he is willing to do any kind of labor.  He disliked very much to ask for help and Mrs. Daly asked our visitor to intercede at the Family Welfare for them, though he was willing to go himself when told that he should.  He has shown great courage and has taken on all the heavy household work such as scrubbing and even washing the clothes, though he refuses to hang them out!  When the mother is in the hospital for her periodical treatments, he takes entire care of the housework and the children.  It would be impossible to find a cleaner and more tidy home than theirs at any time.  Mrs. Daly is beginning to realize her condition and sometimes speaks of the short time left for her to look after her children.  The children are too young to realize or to feel the effect beyond any physical discomforts.</p><p>Mr. Daly never seemed to have any recreation beyond outings with his family, or visiting with friends and neighbors.  Mrs. Daly is now able to attend the mothers&rsquo; meetings at the settlement again and an occasional whist party.  She seems so happy to be able to do so after her long illness.  They are too concerned with their present physical needs to think or plan for any kind of future.</p></div><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110395">395</controlpgno><printpgno>344</printpgno></pageinfo><div><head>CASE 139<hsep>Neighborhood House<lb>RADEED<hsep>Louisville, Ky.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Syrian</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 44; W. 35)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">16, 14, 12, 10, 8, 5, 2</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Peddler, Fruit Stand Proprietor<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">business depression, mechanization, etc.</hi></hi></p><p>It was back a long, dark brick &ldquo;alley way&rdquo; between a wholesale fruit company and a pool room, up a flight of freshly scrubbed, worn steps.  Here across an immaculately scrubbed, bare kitchen over which were spread newspapers to protect the floor from muddy feet, into a bare, neat room occupied only by two straight chairs, an old iron bed and an old bureau, the visitor met the attractive, soft-voiced little Syrian mother who has kept her family of husband and seven children happy and together with little assistance through a long period of unemployment and financial reverses.  Mrs. Radeed was lying in bed with her 2-year-old son beside her.  The preceding evening she had had a &ldquo;hemorrhage.&rdquo;  For two years she had needed an operation that should have been performed at the birth of her last baby.  She smiled up at the visitor.  &ldquo;Much trouble&mdash;husband&mdash;still no work,&rdquo; she replied to the inquiry after her family. There was nothing complaining in her manner as she struggled to explain in her broken English accompanied by gestures, &ldquo;No read, write&mdash;you understan&apos;?&mdash;know nothing&mdash;nobody wan&rsquo; heem! He try&mdash;everywhere.  Stand?  lose much money&mdash;make nothin&apos;&mdash;owe five hund&rsquo; dollar&mdash;&rdquo;</p><p>When Samuel Radeed came to Louisville from Syria, he took up the two occupations known to the Syrian immigrants, peddling a variety of articles and keeping a vegetable and fruit stand in the market district,&mdash;a stand which his wife tended while the children played on the street in front of her.  Some years ago Radeed managed to secure a position as an unskilled worker in a clothing company.  All went well with the family; regular savings were deposited in <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110396">396</controlpgno><printpgno>345</printpgno></pageinfo>the bank.  Mrs. Radeed continued with the stand, though it had begun to lose money.  Chain stores began to carry a supply of fresh fruit and vegetables at a cheaper price than they could be sold by the privately-owned stands.  But the Radeeds held stubbornly on to their stand.  It was almost a tradition with them.  Then Radeed was laid off at the clothing company on account of a financial depression.  When the company reopened a more capable man was employed in Radeed&apos;s stead.  Several months ago, the stand had run up a debt of five hundred dollars, and Radeed agreed to give it up.  The wholesale dealer agreed to give them an opportunity to get on their feet before forcing them to pay, a deed that has won the Syrian family&apos;s eternal gratitude.  Their little savings are free to carry them over until Mr. Radeed secures permanent work.  Mrs. Radeed holds the debt a sacred trust and talks of how they will pay it as soon as they are able to spare a little from the money needed for existence.  For many months now.  Mr. Radeed has been trying his luck at peddling dry goods around the country just outside of Louisville.  But peddling is another Syrian occupation which is no longer profitable.  The priest at the church where Mr. Radeed&apos;s family attends and the children go to school has tried repeatedly to get Radeed a place in a local composition company run by Syrian people, but so far has not been successful.  In the meantime Sammie, the 16-years-old son, has been secured a position as errand-boy at a hotel near by.  Here Sammie, who has had no opportunity to learn any trade or gainful occupation, earns $7.10 a week.  This is the main support of the family at present.  &ldquo;My Sammie&mdash;he good boy&mdash;work hard&mdash;give me all he make,&rdquo; says Mrs. Radeed appreciatively.  Mary and Rose, the two older girls, sell paper shopping bags in the market district all day Saturday.  They average $1.35 apiece.  Of this amount, they deposit fifty cents in a Christmas savings fund.  The rest goes toward the general family fund.</p><p>A few minutes&rsquo; talk with the Radeeds convinces one of the fact that the Syrian family is proud; they do not expect <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110397">397</controlpgno><printpgno>346</printpgno></pageinfo>charity.  The children are all bright, willing and ambitious  with a strange mixture of American childhood&apos;s characteristics  and stolid Syrian stoicism.  The little girls beamed with  pride which was reflected in their sick mother&apos;s eyes when  they were praised for their splendid housekeeping and care  of the younger children.</p><p>When talking of her approaching operation which the  doctor had told her could not be put off longer than the  following week, Mrs. Radeed&apos;s only worry seemed to be  that she could not pay the doctor who would perform it.  It wounded her pride to have to accept charity even in the  form of medical assistance.  &ldquo;Maybe sometime&mdash;I pay him&mdash;&ldquo;she repeated several times.  As the visitor prepared to leave,  promising to come see Mrs. Radeed at the hospital, she  clung to the worker&apos;s hand.  &ldquo;The children&mdash;they come to  Neighborhood&mdash;they tell when I go.&rdquo;  Then smiling she  called eagerly to the departing worker, &ldquo;You hear of work  &mdash;tell my husband?&rdquo;  It was more of a plea than a question  &mdash;a plea one couldn&apos;t forget passing through the bare,  chilly kitchen where the younger children, scantily clothed  for the cold day, were playing with a few old bottles.  Though it was five o&apos;clock no preparations were being made  for supper other than a pot of coffee on the stove and a loaf  of black bread which the oldest girl was slicing.  The entire  family was anemic and undernourished to such a point that  several members appeared tubercular.</p></div><div><head>CASE 140<hsep>Hiram House<lb>LOVEJOY<hsep>Cleveland, Ohio</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Negro) (M, 44,  W. 40)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">19, 17, 15, 13, 11, 9, 5</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Carpenter; Then Workers at Odd Jobs<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">race prejudice</hi></hi></p><p>The Lovejoys have seven children:  Princess, 19; George,  17; Mildred, 15; Fisher, 13 (crippled); Amanda, 11; Rose,  9, and Julius, 5.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110398">398</controlpgno><printpgno>347</printpgno></pageinfo><p>The father, a carpenter by trade, was forced to join the  union in 1923.  Then because union wages were as high for  Negroes as for others, his white employers dropped him  from their pay roll and hired white men instead.  For a  period of years, he depended entirely on odd jobs such as  carrying bricks for bricklayers, acting as porter and anything  else that he could find to do.  His father and older brothers  had been carpenters and he learned his trade from them.  He  finished grammar and first year high school in Georgia.  His  wife, too, had a fairly good education, in a girls&rsquo; finishing  school in Georgia.</p><p>The family life has always been on a high plane.  Both  parents are very much concerned about the physical, mental  and moral welfare of their children.  The whole family attends  church and Sunday School regularly.</p><p>At every turn of fortune for the better, they have tried  to get a little saved for the next hard time.  During 1926  and 1927, Mr. Lovejoy had work quite regularly, averaging  $5 or $6 per day for at least nine months out of the  year.  It was at this time that they had an opportunity to  buy, on a rental plan, a house built by the contractor employing Mr. Lovejoy.  It is a small one-family house hardly  adequate for so large a family, but much better than the  rented places they had formerly lived in.</p><p>During the spring of 1928 unemployment again struck  Mr. Lovejoy and lasted until the following December.  Throughout this period, they lived largely on an occasional  day&apos;s work done by either the father or the mother and the  $2 or $3 per week earned by George in shining shoes.  All  this time, it was difficult to meet payments and at one time it looked as though everything would be lost, but they finally mortgaged their furniture and obtained a loan sufficient to take care of the payments on the house.  But many times the whole family went hungry, particularly the father and mother, who almost starved.  Mrs. Lovejoy obtained one day&apos;s work a week at the settlement camp, cleaning and doing laundry.  Here she could bring the younger children to get <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110399">399</controlpgno><printpgno>348</printpgno></pageinfo>three good meals with plenty of milk,&mdash;but this was for  just one day.</p><p>The children at times have been much undernourished, but  somehow the family has managed to get along without  calling for help.  Mrs. Lovejoy is able to make over old  clothes received through friends of the settlement for the  children, so with almost no expense, she is able to keep them  neatly dressed.  It was through Mrs. Lovejoy&apos;s attendance  in the breadmaking classes that they first became known  to the settlement.  She put her knowledge gained there to  good practice in her own home.</p><p>Through all of these years, it has been the family aim to  keep the children in school at all costs.  They have an almost  religious faith in education.</p><p>(N. B.:  At present Mr. Lovejoy is working at the settlement as night watchman.)</p></div><div><head>CASE 141<hsep>University House<lb>CLARK<hsep>Philadelphia, Pa.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer,</hi> (<hi rend="italics">Engl. parentage) (M. 34); (Irish<lb>parentage) (W. 33</hi>)<lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">6, 4</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Shipping-Clerk; Mechanic<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>Frank Clark stood twisting his hat.  &ldquo;You see it&apos;s because  I&apos;ve always worked so steady that I&apos;ve got nervous about  being out of work now.  Won&apos;t you come in and sit down  and wait till the wife comes in?&rdquo;</p><p>We went through into the warm little kitchen and he  continued with his story.</p><p>&ldquo;After my third year at high school, I went to work for  a plumbing supply company as shipping clerk, and got $25  a week.  After I&apos;d been with them for six years the war came  along and I was in the army for a couple of years over in  France.  Then when I came back they took me on again. <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110400">400</controlpgno><printpgno>349</printpgno></pageinfo>They sure were a good company.  I got married just before  the war and our company was sure interested in the wife,  too.  Four years after I got back they went out of business, but they got me another job with the Buick Auto Company  and there I was a mechanic.  I earned $25 a week first, and  got raised to $30.  Then business began to get slow and they  laid off a lot of their men and I was one of them.  I was out  about a month and then I got a job with the Brunswick Balke  Company, but had to take $22 a week, but I was pretty glad  to get that with a wife and two children.  Jackie is only  six and Bessie, four.  This job only lasted two and a half  months, because they laid the extra people off after the  Christmas rush. I suppose a month don&apos;t seem long to be out  of work, but it seems a year to me.</p><p>&ldquo;I don&apos;t believe in my wife working, although she did  when I didn&apos;t know it during the year I was away, and paid  the first money on our house out of what she saved, but she  couldn&apos;t work anyway now on account of the baby coming  so soon.  That&apos;s another thing gets me so upset.  She&apos;s  always had her own doctor and now she hasn&apos;t even been  to a hospital.  Every day I think I&apos;ll get something, so she  waits.</p><p>&ldquo;I was sure, you know, that I had a job the other day out  in Germantown.  It was night mechanic, but you see at the  Buick Company I&apos;d done only one thing, so they felt they  couldn&apos;t trust me as an all-round mechanic; so I didn&apos;t get  the job.&rdquo;</p><p>At this point Mary, the wife, came in bringing Bessie  from the Settlement Nursery School.  We sat around the  kitchen table and she took up the story.</p><p>&ldquo;I just tell Frank not to worry.  He&apos;ll get a job soon and  he&apos;ll get sick worryin&rsquo; himself this way.  He&apos;s so willing, he&apos;s bound to get something.  He&apos;s out early every day and looks  up every job he hears about.  He&apos;s tried all the employment  agencies that you sent him to.</p><p>&ldquo;We feel good today though because he borrowed $30 on  his insurance and paid our board to my mother.  She and <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110401">401</controlpgno><printpgno>350</printpgno></pageinfo>Grandpop keep house for themselves in part of the house and my two brothers live with them.  My brothers take care of the old folk and we live separate except now.  It worries Frank not to do his share.  Of course I&apos;ve stopped the milk for the children and haven&apos;t got them the warm things I wanted to when the cold spell came on.  But we aren&apos;t in debt yet.&rdquo;</p><p>(<hi rend="italics">Note:</hi>  Mrs. Clark and her baby died three months after this was written.  The diagnosis was death due to improper prenatal care.)</p></div><div><head>CASE 142<hsep>Dodge Community House<lb>DRUGEAN<hsep>Detroit, Mich.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Rum.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 48, W. 42)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">21, 17, 13, 12, 8, 6</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Unskilled Factory Laborer; Oldest<lb>Daughter, Beauty Parlor Workers;<lb>Next Oldest, Clerical Worker.<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>The Drugean family consists of the father and mother and six children:  Betty, 21; Dorothy, 17; Louis, 13; John, 12; Helen, 8; and Irene, 6.  There are three breadwinners,&mdash;Mr. Drugean and his two daughters, Betty and Dorothy.</p><p>Mr. Drugean finished the public school in Rumania at the age of 12 years, and had four years&rsquo; training in the shoemaker&apos;s trade; three years of army; three years of farming, and since the age of 26, when he came to the United States, has done various kinds of jobs in the production departments of factories.   The constant obligation to earn a livelihood for those dependent upon him has given him little opportunity for development in regard to more skilled factory jobs.</p><p>The family live in a fairly comfortably, clean home.  The relationship between parents and the children is congenial, and any one of the children is always anxious for the other&apos;s success.  The children are all blessed with good looks and charm.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110402">402</controlpgno><printpgno>351</printpgno></pageinfo><p>Betty, with a keen desire to become a teacher, was obliged to give up school at the age of 14 and go to work in a restaurant.  She has since become a beauty parlor operator and now aspires to having a shop of her own.  Dorothy, who is especially talented in music, has undergone a series of disappointments because the funds were not forthcoming to continue her lessons.  The oldest son, Louis, is already dreading the time for him to graduate from the eighth grade at school, as the plans are to possibly place him in a trade school rather than high school, which he had his heart set on.  The parents are proud and independent, and have never asked to help from the agency.  It hurts them keenly not to gratify the children&apos;s desires in regard to their education and cultural development.</p><p>Mr. Drugean, at the age of 26, was married and came to the United States, location in Ohio.  He worked in a factory for ten years, earning 16 cents an hour for a 12-hour day.  At this time his wife took in roomers and boarders because his earnings were not sufficient for the rapid growth of the family.</p><p>The strain of making a living to tell on both parents&rsquo; health, so they moved to a farm for six years, making a meager living.  The family then came to Detroit.  Mr Drugean has since been employed in various factories as a machine operator and at different kinds of labor jobs.  He is a good worker and has given several small inventions to General Motors, for which he was paid $25.  He usually did piecework in the factory, thereby increasing his wages from 45 cents an hour to 70 cents at times.  Mr. Drugean has been out of work every year, the time of unemployment ranging from two to seven months.  At one time, after looking for work about six months, he bought a job.  Some individual who knew the foreman could get him a job for $50, which Mr. Drugean paid.  He secured the job, only to be laid off in two weeks&rsquo; time.  Mr. Drugean at another time was forced to take work forty miles out of the city, where he worked for fourteen months, going back and forth every <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110403">403</controlpgno><printpgno>352</printpgno></pageinfo>day and earning 45 cents an hour with bonus.  During a slack time he was laid off, and after two months of unsuccessful attempts to secure work in the city, he finally gained an interview with his former foreman, who gave him a job after several weeks&rsquo; time.  He is still employed there and is now trying to pay up his bill acquired during the unemployment.</p><p>Betty, at the age of 14, graduated from the eighth grade, and then worked as a waitress in restaurants for four years, earning from $12 to $18 a week, after which she started as a helper in a beauty parlor.  After a year&apos;s work, she was given a certificate.  She has since worked in two beauty parlors, earning from $15 to $25 a week.  Betty has given most of her earnings to her family.</p><p>Dorothy was able to finish three years of high school by working after school and earning enough money for her own clothes and books.  She then started a business course hoping to earn money to buy clothes and get started again on her violin lessons.  She was obliged to give up the course as there were no funds to pay for the remainder of the tuition.  She was given a part-time job for $10 a week as general clerk in our clinic, with promise of full-time work later.</p><p>The family sometimes had savings to see them through a period of unemployment, but were frequently obliged to borrow money from friends.  The mother has gone out to work for a few months, several times, doing office cleaning.</p><p>The children are not undernourished, and so far have been able to have plain, wholesome food of the cheapest kind.</p><p>Mrs. Drugean does part of her own sewing, but even then the children are rather poorly clad.  The home is furnished with only the bare necessities.</p><p>The income of this family is not sufficient to attend to defective teeth and minor operations.  Mrs. Drugean has been waiting for years to have her teeth looked after it.  If it were necessary to pay doctor bills there would not be any funds. This family has been extremely fortunate in regard to health.</p><p>During the times when Mrs. Drugean is obliged to work, <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110404">404</controlpgno><printpgno>353</printpgno></pageinfo>there is a general disturbance in the family life.  It is usually necessary for her to work during the night; therefore she is unable to sleep through the day.  This makes her nervous and irritable with the children, and the general routine of the house is upset, making no end of trouble all the way around.</p><p>Mr. Drugean first met the siege of unemployment with courage and would go out looking for jobs with a will.  He has not contacted bills, except for occasional grocery bills and occasional loans from friends, which he always repaid. He has had to give up his insurance.  After repeated occurrences of &ldquo;hard luck&rdquo; Mr. Drugean has lately seemed distressed and discouraged by the irregularity of his earnings.</p><p>The mother is happy when her husband is working and the general attitude of all the family is affected by each siege of the father&apos;s unemployment.</p><p>As Dorothy described the situation:  &ldquo;When my father is working, everything is lovely at home.  My mother is happy and the children are full of ambition.  But, oh, my! when my father isn&apos;t working, no one can do anything, or go any place, and my father almost gets cross at us when we tell him of things we need.&rdquo;</p><p>Even though they have been generous about it, the three older children have been keenly affected by having to give up the things they especially longed to do, and the family is always hoping that Father will not be laid off.</p></div><div><head>CASE 143<hsep>Hudson Guild<lb>REYNOLDS<hsep>New York City, N. Y.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Engl.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 39)</hi>; <hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(W. 38)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">17, 16, 14, 11</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Carpenter<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">seasonal slackness</hi></hi></p><p>For a number of years Mrs. Reynolds has been a member of the settlement Women&apos;s Club and until about six months ago a regular attendant at meetings.  She lives at some <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110405">405</controlpgno><printpgno>354</printpgno></pageinfo>distance from the house so that the home conditions and other members of her family have not been known until recently.  Meeting a worker of the settlement on he street, Mrs. Reynolds explained that her husband was out of work, and that she could not afford thirty cents a month for club dues, so had stayed away.</p><p>The family was found to consist of the parents and four attractive daughters.  Mr. Reynolds was born in London and grew up there; Mrs. Reynolds is an American.  Both parents are sensitive and intelligent, with the appearance and manner of gentle folk.  Their home, though simply furnished and of only three rooms (two of which are dark), is immaculately kept; the atmosphere is serene and pleasant, the children listening attentively when their parents speak, and all appear to enjoy one another&apos;s society.</p><p>It was learned that the family is just ow going through a crisis which is the worst they have yet faced.  When a young man of 20, Mr. Reynolds left the London firm where he had been employed for six years as an apprentice in cabinet-making and lathing, and came to Canada.  Here he worked for two years for the same company, sanding machines at 14 cents an hour.  Lured by the prospect of a better wage he came to Syracuse, where for two years he repaired machinery in a saleratus plant, still at only 14 cents an hour.  Finally he came to New York, and 1915, after a few discouraging attempts to get regular employment, he resumed carpentry as a free-lance small contractor.  With the exception of two periods, one of sixteen moths and one of a year, he has averaged four months a year without work, in the worst years having bee idle for six months.  His wage is sometimes as high as $15 per day, but he must furnish workmen and tools, so that he is little better off than a helper and with far greater responsibility.  In the last twelve months he has earned less than $1,200; in the last five months, partly because of illness before the close of the brisk season, only $51.</p><p>Ever since the children were old enough to look after themselves, Mrs. Reynolds has helped by going out to clean, <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110406">406</controlpgno><printpgno>355</printpgno></pageinfo>but she earns only $30 a month, which just covers the monthly bills for rent, gas, electricity and coal.  In other years they have managed to save between $200 and $300 to carry them through the winter.  For eighteen years they have paid the rent on time; they have not incurred other debts.  This year they have nothing left and cannot see their way through the dull season.  Their most serious problems are the immediate one of food and their wish to keep the children in school through high school.  They have not spent a penny on clothing or recreation in months.</p><p>Except for the father, who has suffered with gastric ulcer for a number of years, the health of the family is good.  They are enthusiastic followers of Alfred McCann, from whose writings and radio talks they have learned to understand food values and to market wisely, buying plenty of milk, vegetables and whole grain breads and cereals, but practically no meat.</p><p>The father has grown slightly cynical about getting a job, although he has not given up trying.  His experience with the over-supply of labor at employment exchanges together with the exorbitant fees charged by private agencies has led him to think that the want as columns of the daily papers are the best medium.  This involves the added expense of a telephone, if a man is to compete with the dozens of applicants who include a phone number in their ad. &ldquo;Nobody will bother to write and then wait twenty-four hours for a carpenter when he can hire one by phone in five minutes,&rdquo; he says.  Even the want ads seldom bring results.  A week or so ago Mr. Reynolds&rsquo; ad was inserted through error in the &ldquo;Help Wanted&rdquo; instead of the &ldquo;Situations Wanted&rdquo; column.  Forty-five men applied for the job.  When a job does come along, competition is so intense that it is impossible to underbid all other applicants and still make enough to pay for weeks of advertising.</p><p>Mrs. Reynolds has a courageous uncomplaining spirit, but has nearly reached the breaking point nervously and physically.  This does not take the form of irritability, but rather <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110407">407</controlpgno><printpgno>356</printpgno></pageinfo>of exhaustion.  After marketing and carrying home her purchases on the way back from work, she says she is &ldquo;all in a perspiration and unfit to cook a meal.&rdquo;  She is without sufficient energy to find a better job than scrubbing in a hospital at 30 cents an hour, which has no advantage other than that it is steady and near by.</p><p>The daughters, particularly the older ones, are (in their father&apos;s words) &ldquo;missing out in all the pleasures of girlhood.&rdquo;  They have, however, a cheerful happy manner, and are thoughtful of their mother, whose burden they share by thoroughly cleaning the house on Saturdays, by helping with the cooking and dish-washing and by washing their own clothes.</p></div><div><head>CASE 144<hsep>Goodrich Social, Settlement<lb>RAKASKY<hsep>Cleveland, Ohio</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Polish</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 52; W. 50)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">25, 19, 17, 14, 13</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Laborer<lb>Oldest Boy: Warehouse Checker<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression, advancing age</hi></hi></p><p>The Rakasky family is an intelligent, self-respecting Polish family, known to the settlement five or six years, They have five children,&mdash;three boys, 19, 17, and 14, and two girls, 25 and 13.  The oldest girl is married and lives away from home.  The father is above the average in intelligence, and attends the settlement English class twice a week.  He is ambitious to learn, is faithful, responsible and sober.  The father and mother hold strict control over the children.  After she had been working a few years, the oldest daughter rebelled against the strict rules of her father and left home to board with friends.  She married in a year or two and is now on good terms with the family.</p><p>Mr. Rakasky was a laborer in the old country in a saw <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110408">408</controlpgno><printpgno>357</printpgno></pageinfo>mill, &ldquo;wheelin&rsquo; dat stuff inside, and wheelin&rsquo; outside and pilin&rsquo; it.</p><p>&ldquo;Lots of people my country work 40 cents for twelve-hour day.  I come to America and got right away $1.50 for eight hours, mining.  Work for labor first and then work for &lsquo;dig machine,&rsquo; twenty-three years in all.&rdquo;</p><p>He came to this city on April 7, 1919, and did laboring work eight years with a steel company in the &ldquo;gas house.&rdquo;  Then the steel company went bankrupt and he found it impossible to find another factory job.</p><p>&ldquo;Factory no want older men; men of forty-five not wanted&mdash;me [looking ashamed] fifty-two.  I try Public Library&mdash;ask for janitor job&mdash;steady all-time job&mdash;one Sunday work, one Sunday off, that&apos;s all.  Not much money, 40 to 45 cents, but steady job.</p><p>&ldquo;I go to dem public schools for janitor work.  Every place full&mdash;full!  One high school, west side, &lsquo;a son-of-a-gun&rsquo; single man got job.  He no got wife, no got children; makin&rsquo; money, spend right away on self.  Steady job, 50 cents an hour.</p><p>&ldquo;My boy, 19, got job in grocery warehouse.  He checks stuff when it goes out.  He make $25 to $30 a week.  He give me every money he got.  He bring check; he give some time Mamma, some time me.  He want clothing, shoes, he ask me and I give him.</p><p>&ldquo;Frank in three months will be eighteen.  He make finish high school this year.  He good boy.  Last week no school he got job make bolts, make $12&mdash;sure, he give me...</p>  <p>&ldquo;Why they so good children?  I hold strong&rdquo;&mdash;clenching his hands on the table&mdash;&ldquo;so dey not go on a bum and Mamma watch all time so dey not go bad place.&rdquo;</p>                <p>Rakasky came to the settlement to ask if we had heard of any opening.  He never rang the bell but waited outside until I appeared, when the routine of telephoning for jobs began, usually in vain.  Finally a job was obtained through a friend of the settlement.  He said, &ldquo;Yes, I got job&mdash;all kind work in factory feeding yarn in machine, $19 a week, <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110409">409</controlpgno><printpgno>358</printpgno></pageinfo>five and one-half days&mdash;40 cents an hour&mdash;not much&mdash;no time for dinner, machines go all the time&mdash;I take a sandwich to a corner and run back to machine&mdash;it never stops.  What can do?  Not much money.  I keep it job till I find something better maybe.  What can do?  Too much peoples on street.</p><p>&ldquo;Bills&mdash;my grocery store on corner&mdash;Novak; he knows me long time.  I pay when I have money and he trust me&mdash; $175 trust now.</p><p>&ldquo;Soon my other boy get job and we all right.  In gas house for steel company I work eight years&mdash;always 75 or 80 cents an hour.  Then company went bankrupt.  Then I work where I can for county, 55 cents, or for city, cementing sidewalks every summer, 60 cents an hour.  Forty cents not much, but what can do?&rdquo;</p></div><div><head>CASE 145<hsep>Neighborhood House<lb> ANDERSON<hsep>Salt Lake City, Utah</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Dan. parentage) (M. 49); (Engl.<lb> parentage) (W. 43)</hi><lb> <hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">22, 19, 17, 15, 10, 5, 2</hi><lb> <hi rend="smallcaps">Laborer; Carpenter; Worker at Misc.<lb> Jobs<lb> Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb> <hi rend="italics">over-supply of labor</hi></hi></p><p>Mr. and Mrs. Anderson have seven children:  Stanley, 22; John, 19; Dorothy, 17 (mental hospital); Jane, 15; Polly, 10; Virginia, 5; Paul, 2.</p><p>Mr. Anderson, the chief breadwinner, went as far as fifth grade in school.  He started work as surveyor but gave it up at his marriage in order to be at home.  His experience since then has been varied.  He worked five years with a lumber company and two years as carpenter.  When this work was finished he was ill for eight months.  Then he obtained employment on the railroad for six years, then worked one and one-half years at a copper plant, and seven years at a wholesale hardware and tool shop as a checking clerk.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110410">410</controlpgno><printpgno>359</printpgno></pageinfo><p>They seemed to be a happy family&mdash;active in church work and interested in each other and their friends.  Their chief troubles have been the tragedy of the 17-year-old daughter, John&apos;s heart trouble (now not so severe) and Mr. Anderson&apos;s being so frequently out of work.  He was laid off at the Electric Traction Company in October, 1928, where he was earning $3.50 a day.  Like many men here he is often out of work in winter and on account of his large family, and buying a home, he cannot be leave to get work out of town.  There are always months between jobs.  Babies came when he was laid off and there were extra expenses. They have always paid for doctors&rsquo; care until the last time when Mrs. Anderson was sent to the hospital by her church. John, who has heart trouble, is now the sole support of the home, except for the occasional work which Mr. Anderson can get.  Mrs. Anderson has worked all she could, going out house-cleaning and taking in sewing, but she has had a nervous breakdown and was seriously ill at the birth of her last child.  Their home is mortgaged and they are back now in the interest.</p><p>They have received help from the church and the relief agency and milk from the settlement.  They cannot keep up their usual standards.  The school children are underweight.  John, however, who was seriously ill with heart trouble, is growing stronger and is able to work steadily.  He has been under the care of the county physician and his improvement has been remarkable.</p><p>Mrs. Anderson&apos;s mother lives next door and has helped keep the home comfortable when Mrs. Anderson was working.</p><p>Mr. Anderson worries a great deal and gets discouraged, making life harder for all of them.  His hair is white and he seems older than he is and is growing less hopeful.  Mrs. Anderson is very brave and makes the best of things.  There is danger of the boy&apos;s being discouraged when all his wages have to go to the home.  While the son in the navy was earning, he gave all he could to the home.  He is now serving <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110411">411</controlpgno><printpgno>360</printpgno></pageinfo>without pay (to June, 1992) in order to earn an honorable discharge.  They fear now that the 15-year-old girl will have to stop school in order to help.</p><p>The unemployment has affected the prospects of higher education for John and Jane.  John, however, on account of illness, has had a great deal of attention paid to his education.  He has talent as an artist and has instruction and encouragement.  Through his teacher&apos;s influence he has found his present position.</p><p>Mrs. Anderson still has faith in her husband and thinks he is a good worker.  She feels that their worries keep them together.</p><p>From what has been observed in this family it would seem that the young people will soon become discouraged, when they find the burden falls as heavily as it must on them.  They are all looking forward to the time when Stanley is released from the navy and can help them.</p></div><div><head>CASE 146<hsep>Probation Office<lb>CAIN AND ABEL<hsep>Los Angeles, Calif.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> (<hi rend="italics">C. 21; A. 22)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">C., Cigar Clerk; A., Soda Dispenser<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">overcrowded labor market</hi></hi></p><p>Cain was a young man, 21 years of age, and Abel was 22.  They were young men who lived in then same city in the middle west, but until they met in California seeking employment, they did not know each other.  Both were single, and did not use narcotics or intoxicants.</p><p>These young men had had a high school education.  After graduation, Cain had obtained work as a cigar clerk, and Abel dispensed sodas.</p><p>Cain reached California in September, 1927, and began his search for work, and it was not until December of that year that Abel arrived.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110412">412</controlpgno><printpgno>361</printpgno></pageinfo><p>From what could be ascertained it appeared that both boys had made an honest effort to obtain work, but were unsuccessful.  They had arrived in Los Angeles at the time that the labor market already overcrowded, and it was almost impossible for them to &ldquo;purchase&rdquo; a position.  They became downhearted and discouraged and having no relatives in the state of California, they realized that they might be arrested as vagrants unless they were employed.</p><p>Discussing their plight one day in the room which they shared, they finally decided to steal a car and drive back to their homes.  However, before they got out of the city, they were detected and arrested, and lodged in the County Jail.</p><p>They were later released by the Court and returned to their homes in the middle west.</p></div><div><head>CASE 147<hsep>Baden Sr. Settlement<lb>MAURICE<hsep>Rocheater, N. Y.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Ital.</hi> (<hi rend="italics">M. 45; W. 38)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">2 chn.</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Shoemaker and Tailor in Italy; Shoe<lb>Factory Worker in U. S.; Later<lb>Street Cleaner</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">seasonal and business vicissitudes</hi></hi></p><p>Mrs. Maurice was busily mopping the floor of a room that served as a kitchen, dining and living room.  She began her story by saying:  &ldquo;You see how poorly and scantily our home is furnished.  We have lost everything we had except our pride and I hope that we never lose that.  At one time we owned our home and had it furnished very nicely.  My husband had steady employment the first ten years in America.  When we were married he had saved enough for the down payment on our home, but year after year of part-time work has put us where we are.</p><p>&ldquo;Mrs. Maurice and I are Sicilians coming from a rural <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110413">413</controlpgno><printpgno>362</printpgno></pageinfo>section.  He had worked at two trades in Italy, shoemaker and tailor.  He worked in a small shoe factory in America and gradually worked himself up in business.  Not speaking English made it hard for him, but he went to night school and made friends with English-speaking people.  This gave him more confidence in himself.  Our first child was born during our prosperity.  She had everything that a child of moderate circumstances could have.  I went to the hospital when she was born, had a private nurse and doctor and not one time did I ever have to take her to a Free Dispensary, nor did any nurses with a blue coat and hat have to call at our home.  Life seemed so good to us in America and I wrote my family back in Europe that it was even better than we had ever dreamed of.  When my oldest girl was three we had a little son.  I was dangerously sick for seven months after the child was born.  All the money we had in the bank was used up.  We had to get a lady to keep house for us, which was more expense.  At this time the factory where my husband worked was bought out by a firm from a different city and they brought their workmen along with them, with only a few exceptions.  Mr. Maurice was not a citizen and they would not keep him.  He went to all the shoe factories in the city and if he was offered anything at all it was at the bottom and he would have to work up again.  I tried to encourage him, for he was such a good father and husband and it hurt him so not to be able to care for his family as he had done previously.  When payments came due on our home we sold our furniture and wedding present, but even with this it was not enough.  We finally lost our home and moved what little we had left into this neighborhood where living was cheaper.</p><p>&ldquo;I was well enough now to do my work.  My husband got a job as street-cleaner.  He said that there were about twenty of them that are their lunches together and that just five of them were unskilled laborers who would in ordinary times do outdoor work.  The rest of them were men of special trades but could not get anything else to do. <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110414">414</controlpgno><printpgno>363</printpgno></pageinfo>My husband worked at this until one very warm day he had a sunstroke, not being used to the hot sun.  We did not know what would happen to us now as both of the children were small and needed special diet.  I have often times gone to bed hungry so that my children could have enough to eat.  A few days later a school officer getting the street number confused came into our flat.  He saw the condition we were in and after that a lady came to see us and asked to many questions.  At that time I was so embarrassed&mdash;but now that is different.  This lady told me to go the next day to a family welfare organization and they would help us. We would not have done this if it had not been for the children.  I could not bear to see them suffer.  We were given help all winter.  Mr. Maurice became so discouraged because he could not get back into the shoe business and because of his illness too, that he began to drink.  He was so mean to us when he had been drinking it almost broke my heart because he had always been so good and kind.  One night he came home drunk and hit the baby.  The officers came in and I lied to them.  I said that the baby had fallen.  I knew that my husband would not have done it if he had been in his right mind.  This seemed to have affected him very deeply and he put up a very brave fight, and now does not drink.</p><p>&ldquo;Mr. Maurice then got a job as a night messenger for a while and I did laundry work at home for almost a year. We got along without any outside help.  We saved up enough money to buy some second-hand furniture and some clothes for the children and myself.  Mr. Maurice did not need new clothes because they were furnished him.  Most of the messenger that worked for the Western Union were just young boys.  It seemed that everything that went wrong was blamed on my husband because he was older, and the boys took advantage of this.  The result was that Mr. Maurice lost his job again.  We were ashamed to ask for outside relief but had to do it for a while.  I now have a job in a laundry and will work until my husband finds something to do.  I know <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110415">415</controlpgno><printpgno>364</printpgno></pageinfo>that he tries to find work, but it just seems that it cannot be done.  I want to save up enough money so that we can buy some furniture and then we can take roomers.&rdquo;</p></div><div><head>CASE 148<hsep>Elizabeth Peabody<lb> CASSATTA<hsep>BOSTON, MASS.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(Ital. parentage) (M. 26; W. 24)</hi><lb> <hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">20 mos.</hi><lb> <hi rend="smallcaps">Expert Furrier</hi><lb> <hi rend="smallcaps">Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb> <hi rend="italics">depression, seasonal</hi></hi></p><p>There are four in the Cassatta household,&mdash;Dominico and his wife, Anna; their baby and his mother.</p><p>Mr. Cassatta, spoken of by neighbors and relatives as a &ldquo;steady, wonderful, good fellow&rdquo; is said to &ldquo;never go out with the boys.&rdquo;  His father died when he was 12, which made him give up school and go to work on a farm.  Later he returned to Boston and before his marriage, three years ago, was earning $35 to $40 per week as an expert furrier.  Six months after he was married, however, he was laid off.  He had no savings since he had &ldquo;paid cash&rdquo; for the parlor, bedroom and dining-room sets with which he and his wife &ldquo;set up housekeeping.&rdquo;  Rent was $30 a month.  Anna was proud indeed of her immaculate five rooms and bath.  Her kitchen was a joy with window plants, spotless ruffled curtains, and clean window panes.  She graduated from the local grammar school, had gone to work and in her words &ldquo;had earned good money in the box factory.&rdquo;  When her husband lost his job, she tried to go back to the box factory only to find her place taken and to be told that the force was to be cut down.  New machines were to be installed so that one person could do the work of seven or eight.  Dominico tramped the streets.  Debts accumulated.  Finally he was able to get part-time work in a rubber factory at $22 a week. <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110416">416</controlpgno><printpgno>365</printpgno></pageinfo>Then came the baby.  Just at the time when he was hoping for full-time work at the factory, 150 men were dropped and he was among them.  Anna&apos;s family helped with food, but frequently the family has been in serious arrears with the rent.</p><p>Ever since Dominico began to face &ldquo;hard luck&rdquo; he has tried &ldquo;everything.&rdquo;  He borrowed $50 in order to try selling oranges from a push cart.  He paid $4 a crate, but in 24 hours, according to his story, oranges dropped to $2 a crate, so he only made $10.  He invested this in cherries but made almost nothing and besides found himself in the midst of a &ldquo;war&rdquo; because the other push cart vendors did not want him in their territory.  Next he tried to get work as an ashman but was told at City Hall that no more men were needed.  Finally, he obtained a &ldquo;pick and shovel&rdquo; job.  This was very humiliating, he thought, for &ldquo;an American-born fellow,&rdquo; but he began to be encouraged again as he earned $6 per day and was able to pay the rent he owed and the insurance, $1.35 per week.</p><p>About a year ago, the &ldquo;pick and shovel&rdquo; job ended and since then, Dominico has been able to obtain work only off and on.  Some of the furniture has been sold; his wife&apos;s engagement ring, after many trips to the pawnbroker, is apparently there not to be redeemed.  Anna&apos;s family still helps with food and clothing and still believes in Dominico, saying now and again, &ldquo;He tries, but it&apos;s hard luck.&rdquo;</p><p>Two months ago, Dominico&apos;s mother, who lives in Portland, Maine, urged him to go there where he succeeded in getting work in a hat factory.  The work is again part-time and his income during the two months has been as low as $4 a week and never over $16 a week.  In a recent letter Anna tells her story.  &ldquo;We live with another family&mdash;I wish I had my own home!  We pay $5 for food every week and $2 for our room.  Then there is the baby&apos;s milk and carfares.  I want to go back to Boston.&rdquo;</p></div><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110417">417</controlpgno><printpgno>366</printpgno></pageinfo><div><head>CASE 149<hsep>Pillsbury House<lb>BURTON<hsep>Minneapolis, Minn.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. 47; W. 36)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn</hi>:  <hi rend="italics">18, 14, 11, 9, 6, 4, 1</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Roofer, Vulcanizer<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">depression</hi></hi></p><p>The Burton family first moved into the immediate neighborhood of the settlement in the fall of 1925.  Although it is a large family of nine, the home consists of four rather small rooms.  Mary, the oldest child, is now 18 years old, while the youngest child is a baby of thirteen months.  The father and the mother were both born in this country and are of American-born parents.  Mr. and Mrs. Burton are intelligent and good-appearing people.  One is surprised to learn that Mr. Burton has had but a fourth grade education.</p><p>The turning point in the family status came in 1923.  At that time an accident occurred which disabled Mr. Burton and made it impossible for him to continue his line of work.  He had been a roofer for twenty years and work had always been available.  He was considered a good reliable workman and with his more or less steady employment he had been able to maintain and support his large family.  At the time of his accident, his pay checks had averaged $30 to $35 a week.  After he broke his arm, which the doctors told him would always be stiff, the insurance company allowed him a 45 per cent disability claim.  He received weekly compensation checks of $20 and was given vocational training, as he was not able to continue his former occupation.  He was advised by the State Rehabilitation Department to take up battery work and vulcanizing.  He started this course in June, 1924, and at the end of three months, he was considered fully rehabilitated.  In October, 1924, he took some of the money which was still due him by the insurance company to start in business for himself.  Instead of a successful living, he found that he was beginning to fall behind.  Fearing <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110418">418</controlpgno><printpgno>367</printpgno></pageinfo>the debts which would accumulate, he gave up the shop and sought work elsewhere.  His records while training showed good progress in battery work; vulcanizing, exceptionally good; adaptability, very good; general attitude, very good; and application also good.  Here was a man with an excellent work record from the training school and likewise from former employers.  Nevertheless no employment could be found, even though he sought assistance of others.  At the time of the accident a neighbor had called the Family Welfare Association telling it of the situation.  The visitor was favorably impressed by the appearance and attitude of the family.  Mrs. Burton, as well as the home, was neat and well cared for.  Some of the furniture, including a victrola, was being purchased on the instalment plan, the payments being paid up to date.  The younger boy was found to be partially crippled, one of his feet being crooked.  The child was placed in the Shriners&rsquo; Hospital and his foot is now entirely straight.</p><p>The monthly insurance payments of $20 continued until the summer of 1925, and still there was no work in sight.</p><p>In desperation Mr. Burton had taken some of the money due him from the insurance company and purchased a small piece of land on the outskirts of the city, and putting up a temporary shack, moved his family there for the summer.  Here they had a small-sized garden and managed fairly well until fall when they moved back into town, feeling that it would be easier to find work there.</p><p>The family had enjoyed the country and Mrs. Burton had made some money selling pickles which she had canned.  In the fall the search for work continued.  Mary, who was now 15 years old, was in her second year of high school.  Her past school record was good, and she was well liked by her teachers.  She was a rather quiet and shy but attractive girl.  Her marks at school began to show a decided decline and it was later learned that the girl had been continuing her classes but owned no books, not having the money with which to buy them.  She was given a permit to leave school <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110419">419</controlpgno><printpgno>368</printpgno></pageinfo>to go to work.  It was now necessary to find work for both her and her father.  Different jobs secured by the settlement house were temporary and brought in little money.  At this time Mrs. Burton reported that her husband was becoming very nervous and thin and was terribly discouraged.</p><p>The home conditions showed the effects of the long struggle with unemployment.  The house was now bare of everything but the few pieces of necessary furniture.  The Family Welfare Association was again active with the family and supplying relief.  Two factory jobs for Mary proved to be seasonal.  One with a canning factory lasted buy a couple of months; the other in a radio factory continued from October until March.  Mr. Burton tried peddling bills for a store, receiving clothing instead of money in payment.  During the following summer, he started canvassing,&mdash;selling fruit cordials.  Mrs. Burton remarked that his &ldquo;best customers were moonshiners as they used the cordials to mix with drinks.&rdquo;  Then he secured work driving a taxi, but the pay was poor; he cleared but $10 one week and $13 the next.  He changed from one cab company to another, thinking he could make more money.  Here, too, his best fares were among his former moonshine customers.  In 1928, the neighbors reported that the family &ldquo;was moonshining,&rdquo; that many men and automobiles were seen going to the house.  The family seemed to take on a more prosperous air, no more agencies were asked for help and the family suddenly became self-supporting with all the evidences of an illegitimate business.</p><p>While the mother now keeps away from the settlement, one small child comes to the kindergarten and the older ones are in the settlement clubs.  Albert, a quiet, sensible-appearing boy of fourteen, with a good school record, is working after school and on Saturdays in the corner barber shop.  Our most recent contact with the family disclosed the fact that Mary has since married and is now living in another city.  Mr. Burton is showing signs of deterioration.</p></div><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110420">420</controlpgno><printpgno>369</printpgno></pageinfo><div><head>CASE 150<hsep>Family Welfare Society<lb>CARTER<hsep>Columbus, Ga.</head><p><hi rend="blockindent"><hi rend="smallcaps">Amer.</hi> <hi rend="italics">(M. about 40, W. about 41)</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Chn:</hi>  <hi rend="italics">8 ranging from 3 wks.to 17 yrs.</hi><lb><hi rend="smallcaps">In Charge of &ldquo;News Butchers&rdquo;<lb>Unemployment Reported Due to:</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">mechanization</hi></hi></p><p>&ldquo;Men can&apos;t seem to look at thing like a woman does.  They are so easy to lose heart, but this sure has ruined our plans and hopes; for our heart&apos;s desire was to give the children a better chance than we got.&rdquo;  Mrs. Carter lives in a small southern city with her husband and eight children, who range from 17 years to 3 weeks.  She first met her husband in Texas when she was 15 and he was 17.  It was love at first sight, they say, and they were engaged in a week.  Then he went off to seek his fortune and they didn&apos;t see each other for eight years.  At the end of that time he came back for her and, he added quickly, in telling of it, &ldquo;I haven&apos;t had a moment&apos;s regret.  It was the best thing I ever did for myself.&rdquo;  At that Mrs. Carter straightened up and said a bit shyly, &ldquo;Well, I ain&apos;t had no mind to regret it myself.&rdquo;</p><p>Before Mr. Charter lost his job two years ago they had lived on a nice street in a very respectable neighborhood.  As the months went by and he failed to get the work he was always hunting, they moved into one of the poorest sections of the city.  The only thing felt in their rickety wooden house to suggest a former standard of living is a tall battered banquet lamp left over from better days.  The furniture has grown shabby and the house is stripped of every extra thing.  Mrs. Carter herself is gentle and speaks without bitterness, but with a sense of bafflement.  &ldquo;It &lsquo;pears I just can&apos;t get used to livin&rsquo; on this street, but I try to kinda keep it to myself.  He gets so down-hearted at times I don&apos;t let him think I&apos;m worried.  He worked for news agents for nearly twenty-five years and handled twenty-five or thirty <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110421">421</controlpgno><printpgno>370</printpgno></pageinfo>men, &lsquo;news-butchers&rsquo; you call them.  He puts them out on their routes.  He was with one firm for eighteen years and had charge of their office at Macon.  And then when that office closed down he ran their store room.  Then they close the store room and he took over the office here, but that closed down.  Then he got a job right away with another news agency. Then they closed that office here two years ago, Buses have put the news-butchers out of business.  You see a news-butcher is a man who goes through the trains with magazines and newspapers and they don&apos;t want them in the buses.  He could see the sales go down each month.  He&apos;s tried to get any number of things in the last two years, but times have been bad and except for three months last summer when his old firm took him back, he ain&apos;t had a real job.  But we&apos;re feelin&rsquo; kinda encouraged &lsquo;cause just this week a man met him on the street and told him when the weather breaks he would give him a job managin&rsquo; a little iced plant.  It will only pay $15 a week and you know he&apos;s been earnin&rsquo; $200 a month.  The man says to Bill, &lsquo;Are you willing to consider this?&rsquo; and Bill says, &ldquo;I&apos;ll take anything,&mdash;$15 is better than nothing.&rsquo; I told him he was right &lsquo;cause some-times you pick up the little things in life and it may lead to somethin&rsquo; wonderful.&rdquo;</p><p>She paused as an 8-year-old boy came to ask her a question.  &ldquo;We have been awful lucky with our children.  They haven&apos;t given us a minute&apos;s worry for badness.  But&mdash;this sure has ruined our plans and hopes.  Our ambition was to put them all through high school and then let them work for any more schoolin&rsquo; if they wanted it.  ... Yes, they do look pretty healthy and it&apos;s wonderful that they do, I was great on fixing little things for them to eat, and they complained right smart when I first couldn&apos;t do it, but we talked to them explained all the circumstances and now they realized.  We have sent the oldest boy, 17, out to any brother&apos;s on oil lands in Texas.  He was call boy at the railroad here, but he was the youngest; so when they started to cut down, his time was cut till he was only working a week or ten days <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110422">422</controlpgno><printpgno>371</printpgno></pageinfo>a month.  He started working at the railroad when he was 15 years old, when my husband first lost his job.  My brother was sure he could get him work in Texas, but he hasn&apos;t so far, He says, though, he is sure things will open up in the spring.</p><p>&ldquo;My Susie went to work over in the five-and-ten the beginning of this winter when she was 14 and she worked up till Christmas when she got laid off.  They are trying her out in the telephone company now, She is supposed to work for two weeks for nothin&rsquo; just learnin&rsquo; and then the third weeks  she gets some pay.  This was the third week, but she didn&apos;t get nothin&apos;.  Maybe she was slower at learnin&rsquo; than she ought to have been and of course we wouldn&apos;t have noticed it so much except how we&apos;re fixed.  Susie was so anxious to finish high school that liked to have cried her eyes out when she had to stop, and I guess it hurt me more than her.</p><p>&ldquo;Simmons is our next one and he&apos;s 13 and was in 7th A.  We had to take him out of school, too.  He&apos;s workin&rsquo; down at the drug store and he don&apos;t look as good as the rest, because the hours is pretty long.  Every other day he goes on at eight in the morning and works till half-past ten at night, and the other days he goes on at half-past eight in the morning and works till seven at night.  Yes, this has certainly upset our plans.  When you don&apos;t have much yourself you like to see your children get it, and we have planned all our lives to have our children have a high school education.  Yes, you&apos;re right, perhaps we will be fixed so we can give it to the little ones, but you know how it is with a mother,&mdash;she don&apos;t want none of them slighted.&rdquo;</p></div><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110423">423</controlpgno><printpgno>372</printpgno></pageinfo><div><head>I. ROSTER OF CASE STUDIES</head><table entity="lg11423.T01"><tabletext><cell>Name</cell><cell>No</cell><cell>BREADWINNER</cell><cell>Nationality</cell><cell>Sex</cell><cell>Age</cell><cell>Vocation</cell><cell>Last Occupation</cell><cell>Other Earning</cell><cell>Dependents</cell><cell>Ali</cell><cell>52</cell><cell>Syrian</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>30</cell><cell>Painter</cell><cell>Wife, 3 chn.</cell><cell>Aller</cell><cell>101</cell><cell>Croatian</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>47</cell><cell>Carpenter</cell><cell>Laborer</cell><cell>Dau.:  Tea-room</cell><cell>Wife, 6 chn.</cell><cell>Amay</cell><cell>18</cell><cell>Fr. Can.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>42</cell><cell>Truck Driver</cell><cell>Odd jobs</cell><cell>Wife, 7 chn.</cell><cell>Anderson</cell><cell>145</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>49</cell><cell>Laborer</cell><cell>Wife:  House-cleaning; sewing</cell><cell>Wife, 7 chn.</cell><cell>Arna</cell><cell>117</cell><cell>Ital.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>36</cell><cell>Laborer</cell><cell>Wife, 5 chn.</cell><cell>Athas</cell><cell>109</cell><cell>Grk.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>30</cell><cell>Factory worker</cell><cell>Shoemaker</cell><cell>Wife:  Cleaning</cell><cell>Wife, 4 chn.</cell><cell>Barnes</cell><cell>74</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>52</cell><cell>Cigar-maker</cell><cell>Interviewer</cell><cell>Bartle</cell><cell>73</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>47</cell><cell>Printer</cell><cell>Wife:  Music</cell><cell>Wife, 3 chn.</cell><cell>Becker</cell><cell>84</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>36</cell><cell>Truck driver</cell><cell>Wife, 7 chn.</cell><cell>Bender</cell><cell>126</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>41</cell><cell>Bricklayer</cell><cell>Wife: Laundry work</cell><cell>Wife, 4 chn.</cell><cell>Dau: Housework</cell><cell>Bendik</cell><cell>127</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>44</cell><cell>Machinist</cell><cell>Laborer</cell><cell>Wife, 3 chn.</cell><cell>Bentley</cell><cell>53</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>55</cell><cell>Chemist &amp; Pharm.</cell><cell>Wife, 1 child</cell><cell>Bertley</cell><cell>25</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>40</cell><cell>Carpenter</cell><cell>Odd jobs</cell><cell>Wife, 4 chn.</cell><cell>Blanton</cell><cell>51</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>55</cell><cell>Statistician</cell><cell>Wife, 1 child</cell><cell>Borezak</cell><cell>85</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>39</cell><cell>Boiler-maker</cell><cell>Odd jobs</cell><cell>Wife: Sewing</cell><cell>Wife, 3 chn.</cell><cell>Son: Produce mkt.</cell><cell>Brillo</cell><cell>78</cell><cell>Ital.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>32</cell><cell>Cabinet-maker</cell><cell>Wife, 4 chn.</cell><cell>Broussard</cell><cell>19</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>49</cell><cell>Plantation manager</cell><cell>Mill foreman</cell><cell>Son: Salesman</cell><cell>Wife, 10 chn.</cell><cell>Son: in mill</cell><cell>Burton</cell><cell>149</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>47</cell><cell>Roofer</cell><cell>&ldquo;Moonshining&rdquo;</cell><cell>Wife: Canning</cell><cell>Wife, 7 chn.</cell><cell>Son: Barber shop after school</cell><cell>Cain &amp; Abel</cell><cell>146</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>21</cell><cell>Cigar clerk</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>22</cell><cell>Soda dispenser</cell><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110424">424</controlpgno><printpgno>373</printpgno></pageinfo><cell>Campbell, D</cell><cell>88</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>W</cell><cell>34</cell><cell>Misc. jobs</cell><cell>Factory job</cell><cell>2 chn.</cell><cell>Cantor</cell><cell>71</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>37</cell><cell>Railroad fireman</cell><cell>Dau: temporarily</cell><cell>Wife, 5 chn.</cell><cell>Capasso, J</cell><cell>77</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>15</cell><cell>Office boy?</cell><cell>Carbino</cell><cell>41</cell><cell>Ital.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>44</cell><cell>Carpenter</cell><cell>Gardener&apos;s helper</cell><cell>Wife, 6 chn.</cell><cell>Cardani</cell><cell>1</cell><cell>Ital.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>37</cell><cell>Bricklayer&apos;s helper</cell><cell>Wife: Factory</cell><cell>Wife, 3 chn.</cell><cell>Carretta</cell><cell>95</cell><cell>Ital.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>35</cell><cell>Cabinet-maker</cell><cell>Odd jobs</cell><cell>Wife: Sewing</cell><cell>Wife, 5 chn.</cell><cell>Carter</cell><cell>150</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>43</cell><cell>Office mgr.</cell><cell>Mgr. ice plant</cell><cell>Son: Call boy r.r.</cell><cell>Wife, 8 chn.</cell><cell>Dau: Clerk</cell><cell>Son: Errand-boy</cell><cell>Casano</cell><cell>28</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>29</cell><cell>Laborer</cell><cell>Wife, 2 chn.</cell><cell>Cassatta</cell><cell>148</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>26</cell><cell>Furrier</cell><cell>Laborer</cell><cell>Wife, 1 child,</cell><cell>M&apos;s mother</cell><cell>Cirelli</cell><cell>55</cell><cell>Ital.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>38</cell><cell>Laborer</cell><cell>Wife:  Day&apos;s work</cell><cell>Wife, 3 chn.</cell><cell>Son:  clerk</cell><cell>Son:  Printing shop</cell><cell>Clancy</cell><cell>93</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>36</cell><cell>Misc. unsk. jobs</cell><cell>Wife:  Sewing;</cell><cell>Wife, 1 child</cell><cell>scrubbing offices</cell><cell>Clark</cell><cell>141</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>34</cell><cell>Clerk</cell><cell>Mechanic</cell><cell>Wife, 2 chn.</cell><cell>Cohen</cell><cell>42</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>19</cell><cell>Misc. unsk. jobs</cell><cell>Contillo</cell><cell>35</cell><cell>Ital.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>45</cell><cell>Laborer</cell><cell>Wife, 7 chn.</cell><cell>Conway</cell><cell>66</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>39</cell><cell>Unsk. factory work</cell><cell>Wife:  temporarily</cell><cell>Wife, 6 chn.</cell><cell>Dau.:</cell><cell>Curry</cell><cell>67</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>39</cell><cell>Truck driver</cell><cell>Wife:  Cleaning offices</cell><cell>Wife, 7 chn.</cell><cell>Dau.:  Store</cell><cell>Daly</cell><cell>138</cell><cell>Irish</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>40</cell><cell>Laborer</cell><cell>Wife:  Cleaning offices</cell><cell>Wife, 4 chn.</cell><cell>Dante</cell><cell>63</cell><cell>Ital.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>?</cell><cell>Office work</cell><cell>Wife, 2 chn.</cell><cell>Danuto</cell><cell>33</cell><cell>Ital.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>40</cell><cell>Cementer</cell><cell>Laborer in factory</cell><cell>Wife, 4 chn.</cell><cell>Davis</cell><cell>107</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>38</cell><cell>Carpenter</cell><cell>Wife: Washing</cell><cell>Wife, 6 chn.</cell><cell>DeAngelo</cell><cell>130</cell><cell>Ital.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>39</cell><cell>Laborer</cell><cell>Wife, 3 chn.</cell><cell>DeMacio</cell><cell>12</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>40</cell><cell>Asst. Pipe-fitter</cell><cell>Laborer</cell><cell>Wife: Canvassing</cell><cell>Wife, 3 chn.</cell><cell>DeMassi-Lombetti</cell><cell>21</cell><cell>Ital.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>?</cell><cell>L: auto factory worker</cell><cell>Wife, 6 chn.</cell><cell>DeSantis</cell><cell>37</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>29</cell><cell>Printer</cell><cell>&ldquo;Checker&rdquo; in garage</cell><cell>Wife, 1 child</cell><cell>DeSotto</cell><cell>3</cell><cell>Ital.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>40</cell><cell>Painter</cell><cell>Wife, 7 chn.</cell><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110425">425</controlpgno><printpgno>374</printpgno></pageinfo><cell>Di Pesa</cell><cell>57</cell><cell>Ital.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>?</cell><cell>Stone &amp; concrete worker</cell><cell>Laborer (tender of machine)</cell><cell>Wife, 5 chn.</cell><cell>Dohaney</cell><cell>36</cell><cell>Irish</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>27</cell><cell>Carpenter</cell><cell>Odd jobs</cell><cell>Wife, 2 chn.</cell><cell>Domico</cell><cell>124</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>W</cell><cell>30</cell><cell>Oper. on chn&apos;s. dresses</cell><cell>Sewing in tailoring estab.</cell><cell>1 child</cell><cell>Doney</cell><cell>40</cell><cell>Ital.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>49</cell><cell>Wood finisher</cell><cell>Wife, 7 chn.</cell><cell>Donnelly</cell><cell>128</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>31</cell><cell>Molder&apos;s helper</cell><cell>Wife, 4 chn.</cell><cell>Drover</cell><cell>96</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>39</cell><cell>Unsk. factory worker</cell><cell>Truck driver</cell><cell>Son:  Messenger</cell><cell>Wife, 7 chn.</cell><cell>Sons:  Paper route</cell><cell>Drugean</cell><cell>142</cell><cell>Rum.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>48</cell><cell>Unsk. factory worker</cell><cell>Wife:  Cleaning</cell><cell>Wife, 6 chn.</cell><cell>Dau.:  Helper, Beauty Parlor</cell><cell>Dau.:  Clerk</cell><cell>Edwards</cell><cell>105</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>?</cell><cell>Ironworker</cell><cell>Wife, 5 chn.</cell><cell>Estrada</cell><cell>46</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>32</cell><cell>Truck driver</cell><cell>Odd jobs</cell><cell>Wife, 6 chn.</cell><cell>Fabrizi</cell><cell>87</cell><cell>Ital.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>43</cell><cell>Laborer</cell><cell>Wife, 6 chn.</cell><cell>Failey</cell><cell>70</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>42</cell><cell>Carpenter; plumber</cell><cell>Sons:  Paper Routes</cell><cell>Wife, 5 chn.</cell><cell>Francesca</cell><cell>123</cell><cell>Ital.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>40</cell><cell>Floor-layer</cell><cell>Wife, 8 chn.</cell><cell>Figelo</cell><cell>99</cell><cell>Ital.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>38</cell><cell>Laborer</cell><cell>Son:  Candy factory</cell><cell>Wife, 7 chn.</cell><cell>Wife&apos;s father</cell><cell>Flanegan</cell><cell>61</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>45</cell><cell>Teamster</cell><cell>Odd jobs</cell><cell>Son:  Appren. painter</cell><cell>Wife, 7 chn.</cell><cell>Freedom</cell><cell>115</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>29</cell><cell>Chauffeur</cell><cell>Apartment house supt.</cell><cell>Wife, 4 chn.</cell><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110426">426</controlpgno><printpgno>375</printpgno></pageinfo><cell>Furnald</cell><cell>136</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>W</cell><cell>42</cell><cell>Saleswoman</cell><cell>Dau.:</cell><cell>9 chn.</cell><cell>Son:  Clothing est.</cell><cell>Gallini</cell><cell>94</cell><cell>Ital.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>40</cell><cell>Laborer</cell><cell>Wife, 5 chn.</cell><cell>Gavin</cell><cell>68</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>28</cell><cell>Woodworker</cell><cell>Odd jobs</cell><cell>Wife:  Factory</cell><cell>Wife, 1 child</cell><cell>Giaimo</cell><cell>111</cell><cell>Ital.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>?</cell><cell>Roundhouse worker</cell><cell>Street-cleaner</cell><cell>6 chn.</cell><cell>Graham</cell><cell>15</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>W</cell><cell>32</cell><cell>Textile worker</cell><cell>2 chn.</cell><cell>Grucci</cell><cell>137</cell><cell>Ital.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>42</cell><cell>Laborer</cell><cell>Wife, 7 chn.</cell><cell>Halbasz</cell><cell>122</cell><cell>Pol.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>41</cell><cell>Railway worker</cell><cell>Foundry laborer</cell><cell>Wife, 9 chn.</cell><cell>Handel</cell><cell>10</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>34</cell><cell>Calenderer in rubber factory</cell><cell>Janitor</cell><cell>Wife, 1 child</cell><cell>Hanlon (sisters)</cell><cell>31</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>W</cell><cell>50</cell><cell>Wire frame hat workers</cell><cell>Cleaning; sewing</cell><cell>54</cell><cell>Harkin (brothers)</cell><cell>76</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>40</cell><cell>Laborers</cell><cell>36</cell><cell>Hogan</cell><cell>56</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>?</cell><cell>Baker shop</cell><cell>Farm worker</cell><cell>Wife, 6 chn.</cell><cell>Horton</cell><cell>75</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>?</cell><cell>Tinner</cell><cell>Sons (2):  Factory</cell><cell>Wife, 5 chn.</cell><cell>Son:  Father&apos;s helper</cell><cell>Hyde</cell><cell>48</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>38</cell><cell>Waiter</cell><cell>Odd jobs</cell><cell>Wife:  Day&apos;s work</cell><cell>Wife, 4 chn.</cell><cell>Incorveno</cell><cell>86</cell><cell>Ital.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>?</cell><cell>Laborer</cell><cell>Wife:  Factory</cell><cell>Wife, 4 chn.</cell><cell>James</cell><cell>129</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>?</cell><cell>Laborer</cell><cell>Wife:  Home-work</cell><cell>Wife, 6 chn.</cell><cell>Jamison</cell><cell>90</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>50</cell><cell>Blacksmith</cell><cell>Lath carrier</cell><cell>Son:  Restaurant</cell><cell>Wife, 2 chn.</cell><cell>Januskiwicz</cell><cell>92</cell><cell>Pol.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>41</cell><cell>Laborer</cell><cell>Sons (2):  Factory</cell><cell>Wife, 4 chn.</cell><cell>Wife:  Day&apos;s work</cell><cell>Jenkins</cell><cell>22</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>30</cell><cell>Roofer</cell><cell>Wife, 4 chn.</cell><cell>Jerry</cell><cell>38</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>18</cell><cell>Unskilled worker</cell><cell>Jervis</cell><cell>125</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>35</cell><cell>Mixer of inks</cell><cell>Odd jobs</cell><cell>Wife, 4 chn.</cell><cell>Jonis</cell><cell>50</cell><cell>Pol.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>40</cell><cell>Longshoreman</cell><cell>Dau.:</cell><cell>Wife, 8 chn.</cell><cell>Kirk</cell><cell>113</cell><cell>Engl.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>?</cell><cell>Wood finisher</cell><cell>Elevator operator</cell><cell>Wife:  Takes in ironing</cell><cell>Wife, 7 chn.</cell><cell>Klinkhamer</cell><cell>100</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>52</cell><cell>Painter</cell><cell>Son:  Truck driver</cell><cell>Wife, 1 child</cell><cell>Krovak</cell><cell>114</cell><cell>Pol.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>59</cell><cell>Ironworker</cell><cell>Son:  Factory</cell><cell>Wife, 9 chn.</cell><cell>Dau:  Factory</cell><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110427">427</controlpgno><printpgno>376</printpgno></pageinfo><cell>Kurfee</cell><cell>58</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>37</cell><cell>Steamfitter</cell><cell>Wife:  Mangle work in laundry</cell><cell>Wife, 5 chn.</cell><cell>Son:  box factory</cell><cell>Laforge</cell><cell>23</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>49</cell><cell>Maintenance man</cell><cell>Wife:  Nursing</cell><cell>Wife, 8 chn.</cell><cell>Dau:  Office work</cell><cell>La Penta</cell><cell>29</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>26</cell><cell>Unsk. Factory Worker</cell><cell>Wife, 1 child</cell><cell>Wife, 3 chn. 1 grandchild</cell><cell>LeFevre</cell><cell>43</cell><cell>Fr. Can.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>54</cell><cell>Carpenter; drayman</cell><cell>Dau:</cell><cell>Leightnum</cell><cell>79</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>W</cell><cell>34</cell><cell>Looper</cell><cell>Mother</cell><cell>Mother and father</cell><cell>Leighton</cell><cell>39</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>37</cell><cell>Factory worker firing boilers</cell><cell>Wife, 6 chn.</cell><cell>Levy</cell><cell>118</cell><cell>Rus. Jew.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>40</cell><cell>Carpenter</cell><cell>Wife, 1 child</cell><cell>Lipski</cell><cell>116</cell><cell>Rus. Jew.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>37</cell><cell>Painter</cell><cell>Wife, 3 chn.</cell><cell>Lloyd</cell><cell>112</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>W</cell><cell>40</cell><cell>Topper in box factory</cell><cell>Son:  Paper route after school</cell><cell>Lovejoy</cell><cell>140</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>44</cell><cell>Carpenter</cell><cell>Odd jobs</cell><cell>Wife:  Cleaning a day a week</cell><cell>Wife, 7 chn.</cell><cell>Maloof</cell><cell>44</cell><cell>Syrian</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>43</cell><cell>Shoemaker</cell><cell>Wife, 5 chn.</cell><cell>Martin</cell><cell>72</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>50</cell><cell>Wood finisher</cell><cell>Wife, 5 chn.</cell><cell>Maurice</cell><cell>147</cell><cell>Ital.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>45</cell><cell>Shoemaker</cell><cell>Messeger</cell><cell>Wife:  Laundry</cell><cell>Wife, 2 chn.</cell><cell>Maynard</cell><cell>132</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>W</cell><cell>38</cell><cell>Stenographer</cell><cell>2 chn.</cell><cell>Mercato</cell><cell>60</cell><cell>Ital.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>34</cell><cell>Painter</cell><cell>Wife, 1 child</cell><cell>Miller</cell><cell>34</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>28</cell><cell>Salesman</cell><cell>Garage work</cell><cell>Wife, 2 chn.</cell><cell>Monterey</cell><cell>16</cell><cell>Lat. Am.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>52</cell><cell>Painter:  Boiler-scaler</cell><cell>Laborer</cell><cell>Wife, 4 chn.</cell><cell>Moran</cell><cell>5</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>42</cell><cell>Sheet-metal worker</cell><cell>Laborer</cell><cell>Wife:  Office cleaning</cell><cell>Wife, 5 chn.</cell><cell>Mullins</cell><cell>2</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>30</cell><cell>Machinist</cell><cell>Wife, 5 chn.</cell><cell>Murphy</cell><cell>103</cell><cell>Irish</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>42</cell><cell>Frt. handler on railroad</cell><cell>Son:  Restaurant</cell><cell>Wife, 5 chn.</cell><cell>Son:  Errands</cell><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110428">428</controlpgno><printpgno>377</printpgno></pageinfo><cell>Nejib</cell><cell>102</cell><cell>Syrian</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>44</cell><cell>Peddler</cell><cell>Wife:  occasionally</cell><cell>Wife, 9 chn.</cell><cell>1 Dau.</cell><cell>Son</cell><cell>O&apos;Connor</cell><cell>131</cell><cell>Irish</cell><cell>W</cell><cell>58</cell><cell>Scrubwoman</cell><cell>Dau:  Office</cell><cell>7 chn.</cell><cell>2 Sons:  Shoe factory</cell><cell>Orloff</cell><cell>30</cell><cell>Rus.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>41</cell><cell>Shoemaker</cell><cell>&ldquo;Chore man&rdquo;</cell><cell>Son:  Sales clerk</cell><cell>Wife, 7 chn.</cell><cell>Pascal</cell><cell>83</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>30-40</cell><cell>Sales mgr.</cell><cell>Salesman</cell><cell>Wife:  Governess</cell><cell>Wife, 2 chn.</cell><cell>Pasquale</cell><cell>135</cell><cell>Ital.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>40</cell><cell>Laborer</cell><cell>Wife &amp; dau:  Sewing at home</cell><cell>Paton</cell><cell>133</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>56</cell><cell>Shoemaker; skilled</cell><cell>Wife, 2 chn.</cell><cell>Pavlowski</cell><cell>7</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>32</cell><cell>Miner</cell><cell>Odd jobs</cell><cell>Wife:  Scrubbing</cell><cell>Wife, 4 chn.</cell><cell>Petti</cell><cell>13</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>34</cell><cell>Plumber</cell><cell>Wife, 5 chn.</cell><cell>Piala</cell><cell>121</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>40</cell><cell>Carpenter</cell><cell>Odd jobs</cell><cell>Wife:  Factory</cell><cell>Wife, 3 chn.</cell><cell>Popowski</cell><cell>14</cell><cell>Austr.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>35</cell><cell>Laborer</cell><cell>Wife:  Summer work</cell><cell>Wife, 6 chn.</cell><cell>Poulos</cell><cell>59</cell><cell>Grk.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>48</cell><cell>Shoemaker</cell><cell>Wife:  Laundry</cell><cell>Wife, 3 chn.</cell><cell>Radeed</cell><cell>139</cell><cell>Syrian</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>44</cell><cell>Peddler</cell><cell>Son:  Errand boy</cell><cell>Wife, 7 chn.</cell><cell>Rafael</cell><cell>98</cell><cell>Mex.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>33</cell><cell>Painter</cell><cell>Laborer</cell><cell>Wife, 4 chn.</cell><cell>Rakasky</cell><cell>144</cell><cell>Pol.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>52</cell><cell>Laborer</cell><cell>Son:  Checker</cell><cell>Wife, 4 chn.</cell><cell>Raymond</cell><cell>120</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>44</cell><cell>Roofer</cell><cell>Son:  Errand boy</cell><cell>Wife, 7 chn.</cell><cell>Reuter</cell><cell>11</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>36</cell><cell>Bag sorter</cell><cell>Longshoreman</cell><cell>Wife, 7 chn.</cell><cell>Reynolds</cell><cell>143</cell><cell>Engl.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>39</cell><cell>Carpenter</cell><cell>Wife:  scrubbing</cell><cell>Wife, 4 chn.</cell><cell>Riley</cell><cell>6</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>34</cell><cell>Laborer</cell><cell>Wife, 4 chn.</cell><cell>Rosario</cell><cell>81</cell><cell>Ital.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>34</cell><cell>Fruit peddler</cell><cell>Laborer</cell><cell>Son &amp; dau:  Temporarily</cell><cell>Wife, 9 chn.</cell><cell>Rzepinski</cell><cell>49</cell><cell>Pol.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>40</cell><cell>Factory worker; semi-skilled</cell><cell>Odd jobs</cell><cell>Wife:  scrubbing</cell><cell>Wife, 5 chn.</cell><cell>Sapelli</cell><cell>64</cell><cell>Ital.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>46</cell><cell>Chef</cell><cell>Wife, 7 chn.</cell><cell>Sauseverra</cell><cell>106</cell><cell>Ital.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>45</cell><cell>Laborer</cell><cell>Wife, 8 chn.</cell><cell>Schnabel</cell><cell>9</cell><cell>Ger.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>39</cell><cell>Inspector</cell><cell>Dau:  Housework</cell><cell>Wife, 3 chn.</cell><cell>Schneider</cell><cell>4</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>27</cell><cell>Carpenter&apos;s helper</cell><cell>Wrecker</cell><cell>Wife, 3 chn.</cell><cell>Shanti</cell><cell>47</cell><cell>Rus.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>48</cell><cell>Stevedore</cell><cell>Dau:  Factory</cell><cell>Wife, 3 chn.</cell><cell>Sherman</cell><cell>32</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>45</cell><cell>Broom-maker</cell><cell>Odd jobs</cell><cell>Wife:  Scrubbing</cell><cell>Wife, 3, chn.</cell><cell>Smith</cell><cell>80</cell><cell>Amer</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>29</cell><cell>Clerk</cell><cell>Carpenter&apos;s helper</cell><cell>Wife, 4 chn.</cell><cell>Silverman</cell><cell>17</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>25</cell><cell>Dispatcher</cell><cell>Clerk</cell><cell>Wife, 2 chn.</cell><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110429">429</controlpgno><printpgno>378</printpgno></pageinfo><cell>Smithers</cell><cell>62</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>52</cell><cell>Sheet-metal worker</cell><cell>Dau.: Office</cell><cell>Wife, 8 chn.</cell><cell>Son: Farm</cell><cell>Soyensky</cell><cell>65</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>26</cell><cell>Carpenter</cell><cell>Bootlegger</cell><cell>Wife: Dress operator</cell><cell>Wife, 2 chn.</cell><cell>Taylor</cell><cell>110</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>37</cell><cell>Steel-worker; skilled</cell><cell>Wife, 3 chn.</cell><cell>Thompson</cell><cell>24</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>56</cell><cell>Porter</cell><cell>Watchman</cell><cell>Wife, 4 chn.</cell><cell>Tiorsi</cell><cell>26</cell><cell>Ital.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>54</cell><cell>Hand laster</cell><cell>Son: Waiter</cell><cell>Wife, 2 chn.</cell><cell>Topolski</cell><cell>104</cell><cell>Pol.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>48</cell><cell>Laborer</cell><cell>Wife: Cleaning</cell><cell>Wife, 3 chn.</cell><cell>Towne, H</cell><cell>89</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>28</cell><cell>Driver&mdash;wagon</cell><cell>Odd jobs</cell><cell>Utrecht</cell><cell>27</cell><cell>Dalm.</cell><cell>W</cell><cell>46</cell><cell>Mach. operator</cell><cell>Dau.:  Telephone operator</cell><cell>3 chn.</cell><cell>Vanzetti</cell><cell>119</cell><cell>Ital.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>44</cell><cell>Truck driver</cell><cell>Wife:  Cleaning</cell><cell>Wife, 2 chn.  Dau.-in-law &amp; grandchild Grandmother</cell><cell>Vezanto</cell><cell>45</cell><cell>Ital.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>?</cell><cell>Laborer</cell><cell>Fish peddler</cell><cell>Wife, 5 chn.</cell><cell>Walther</cell><cell>20</cell><cell>Hungar.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>35</cell><cell>Army officer</cell><cell>Head porter in office bldg.</cell><cell>Wife:  Nursing</cell><cell>Wife, 1 child</cell><cell>Warner</cell><cell>82</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>?</cell><cell>Steamfitter</cell><cell>Wife, 6 chn.</cell><cell>Whalen</cell><cell>134</cell><cell>Irish</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>52</cell><cell>Construction laborer</cell><cell>Wife:  Factory Son:  Clerk</cell><cell>Wife, 9 chn.</cell><cell>White</cell><cell>8</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>34</cell><cell>Truck &amp; taxi driver</cell><cell>Wife, 6 chn.</cell><cell>Williams</cell><cell>97</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>37</cell><cell>Cabinet-maker</cell><cell>Son:  Errand boy</cell><cell>Wife, 2 chn.</cell><cell>Yancey</cell><cell>91</cell><cell>Amer.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>49</cell><cell>Fireman in factory</cell><cell>Auto repairman</cell><cell>Wife:  Cleaning laundry</cell><cell>Wife, 2 chn.</cell><cell>Zappula</cell><cell>108</cell><cell>Ital.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>36</cell><cell>Laborer</cell><cell>Wife, 5 chn.</cell><cell>Zepone</cell><cell>54</cell><cell>Ital.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>50</cell><cell>Laborer</cell><cell>Son:  Electrician</cell><cell>Wife, 8 chn.</cell><cell>Zoletti</cell><cell>69</cell><cell>Ital.</cell><cell>M</cell><cell>39</cell><cell>Shoemaker</cell><cell>Wife, 5 chn.</cell></tabletext></table></div><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110430">430</controlpgno><printpgno>379</printpgno></pageinfo><div><head>II.  CAUSES OF UNEMPLOYMENT</head><p>(Clearly enough defined to be noted in the schedules)</p><p>Seasonality&mdash;1, 2, 3, 6, 8, 14, 24, 33, 35, 36, 45, 50, 52, 56, 58, 60, 65, 70, 71, 72, 74, 78, 81, 82, 83, 86, 90, 94, 99, 100, 101, 105, 107, 108, 111, 114, 115, 116, 117, 118, 122, 125, 126, 129, 130, 131, 134, 135, 137, 138, 143, 147, 148.</p><p>Mechanization &amp; technological changes&mdash;12, 16, 17, 26, 31, 32, 33, 37, 53, 57, 61, 74, 76, 87, 89, 90, 98, 101, 106, 111, 113, 125, 131, 132, 148, 150.</p><p>Marker &amp; style changes&dash;27, 31, 59, 79.</p><p>Business depression&dash;2, 4, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 25, 27, 28, 29, 30, 32, 33, 34, 35, 38, 41, 42, 44, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 53, 54, 55, 58, 62, 63, 64, 66, 67, 68, 69, 70, 71, 74, 75, 76, 77, 78, 80, 84, 85, 88, 91, 92, 93, 95, 96, 97, 100, 102, 104, 106, 107, 109, 110, 112, 115, 118, 119, 120, 121, 123, 124, 126, 127, 128, 133, 137, 139, 141, 142, 144, 145, 146, 148, 149.</p></div><div><head>III.  RE-EMPLOYMENT</head><p>Hunting for a job&mdash;6, 7, 9, 10, 16, 20, 23, 31, 38, 40, 42, 54, 81, 85, 88, 93, 94, 110, 118, 120, 130, 137, 141, 144, 148, 150.</p><p>Drop to casual labor&mdash;2, 5, 7, 10, 12, 20, 23, 33, 36, 37, 41, 46, 57, 68, 90, 95, 98, 127, 140, 147.</p><p>Old age a factor in re-employment&mdash;19, 27, 31, 51, 53, 93, 100, 101, 133, 144.</p></div><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110431">431</controlpgno><printpgno>380</printpgno></pageinfo><div><head>IV. ECONOMIC EFFECTS</head><p><hi rend="italics">Savings used up</hi>&mdash;2, 11, 13, 23, 24, 27, 30, 36, 47, 48, 51, 53, 54, 57, 63, 64, 67, 79, 84, 85, 87, 91, 95, 98, 103, 108, 109, 114, 115, 127, 129, 138.</p><p><hi rend="italics">No savings</hi>&mdash;4, 5, 6, 8, 21, 41, 62, 80, 94, 97, 111, 121, 128, 136, 148.</p><p><hi rend="italics">Ran into debt to grocers, butchers, etc.</hi>&mdash;3, 4, 6, 11, 17, 21, 32, 41, 54, 64, 65, 66, 71, 78, 81, 86, 90, 95, 98, 105, 107, 110, 115, 118, 122, 123, 128, 137, 144.</p><p><hi rend="italics">Money borrowed from friends, relatives, neighbors</hi>&mdash;20, 23, 53, 59, 63, 82, 84, 91, 100, 108, 111, 122, 126, 129, 142.</p><p><hi rend="italics">Money borrowed on furniture or other security from loan agencies</hi>&mdash;60, 62, 69, 71, 78, 80, 95, 125, 126, 127, 141.</p><p><hi rend="italics">Furniture sold</hi>&mdash;12, 13, 16, 32, 33, 34, 43, 53, 70, 80, 85, 97, 98, 119, 147, 148.</p><p><hi rend="italics">Jewelry, etc. pawned</hi>&mdash;12, 16, 25, 36, 37, 64, 72, 80, 85, 90, 97, 125, 126, 129, 148.</p><p><hi rend="italics">Lapsed insurance</hi>&mdash;7, 11, 16, 17, 47, 59, 63, 69, 75, 80, 84, 93, 97, 107, 121, 123.</p><p><hi rend="italics">Lapsed union dues</hi>&mdash;95, 100, 118.</p><p><hi rend="italics">Non-payment on installment purchases</hi>&mdash;5, 12, 17, 33, 47, 97.</p><p><hi rend="italics">Back in payments on house, mortgage interest, foreclosures</hi>&mdash;12, 21, 43, 44, 54, 63, 65, 75, 85, 127, 137, 147.</p><p><hi rend="italics">Rent unpaid</hi>&mdash;2, 7, 59, 64, 71, 81, 86, 93, 95, 96, 97, 98, 107, 123, 129, 138.</p><p><hi rend="italics">Movings to cheaper quarters</hi>&mdash;5, 7, 9, 53, 61, 66, 70, 71, 72, 80, 97, 106, 112, 113, 125, 129, 130, 133, 147, 150.</p><p><hi rend="italics">Wife goes to work</hi>&mdash;1, 5, 6, 7, 8, 11, 12, 18, 20, 23, 24, 32, 37, 49, 55, 56, 59, 65, 67, 68, 73, 79, 83, 86, 91, 92, 93, 101, 102, 104, 105, 107, 109, 113, 119, 121, 128, 130, 134, 140, 142, 143, 145, 147.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110432">432</controlpgno><printpgno>381</printpgno></pageinfo><p><hi rend="italics">Children go to work</hi>&mdash;5, 19, 23, 26, 30, 40, 47, 55, 66, 70, 71, 81, 85, 90, 92, 96, 97, 101, 103, 107, 112, 120, 122, 129, 131, 134, 139, 140, 142, 144, 145, 149, 150.</p><p><hi rend="italics">Boarders or roomers taken in</hi>&mdash;14, 30, 31, 49, 65, 70, 85, 86, 97, 99, 100, 103, 105, 119, 121, 126, 129, 132, 136.</p><p><hi rend="italics">Living with parents or otherwise sharing a home</hi>&mdash;29, 58, 63, 95, 148.</p><p><hi rend="italics">Charitable relief</hi>&mdash;3, 4, 5, 7, 10, 11, 13, 14, 18, 25, 27, 34, 36, 43, 45, 46, 51, 52, 55, 56, 62, 66, 70, 78, 80, 81, 93, 94, 97, 98, 99, 105, 107, 110, 112, 114, 115, 122, 123, 124, 125, 129, 130, 132, 134, 136, 138, 145, 147, 149.</p><p><hi rend="italics">Independent, no relief</hi>&mdash;1, 57, 71, 83, 87, 95.</p></div><div><head>V. PHYSICAL EFFECTS</head><p><hi rend="italics">Food trimmed</hi>&mdash;1, 4, 5, 6, 8, 9, 11, 16, 18, 25, 26, 40, 49, 51, 52, 59, 64, 68, 70, 78, 81, 82, 84, 85, 86, 87, 90, 93, 96, 97, 98, 100, 102, 103, 104, 107, 110, 111, 112, 113, 114, 115, 118, 119, 123, 126, 137.</p><p><hi rend="italics">Milk supply cut down</hi>&mdash;1, 4, 8, 14, 21, 28, 33, 78, 84, 87, 96, 105, 110, 119.</p><p><hi rend="italics">Inability to supply special diet for the sick</hi>&mdash;21, 50, 117, 123, 137, 147.</p><p><hi rend="italics">Inadequate clothing</hi>&mdash;1, 2, 16, 18, 21, 22, 25, 33, 37, 40, 47, 50, 54, 57, 59, 66, 67, 81, 82, 85, 86, 87, 90, 95, 96, 97, 98, 100, 107, 110, 112, 114, 117, 120, 122, 123, 125, 126, 130, 134, 137.</p><p><hi rend="italics">Comfortless homes</hi>&mdash;2, 5, 7, 9, 10, 14, 16, 19, 33, 43, 61, 63, 70, 72, 82, 98, 105, 112, 113, 116, 130, 137, 142, 149, 150.</p><p><hi rend="italics">Malnutrition</hi>&mdash;2, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 14, 15, 17, 23, 25, 33, 40, 46, 47, 50, 54, 59, 62, 67, 78, 82, 81, 85, 87, 93, 95, 97, 98, 99, 102, 108, 113, 115, 116, 120, 123, 127, 137, 138, 139, 140.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110433">433</controlpgno><printpgno>382</printpgno></pageinfo><p><hi rend="italics">Respiratory diseases</hi>&mdash;1, 2, 7, 9, 10, 13, 22, 24, 32, 49, 67, 87, 93, 95, 97, 108, 120, 137.</p><p><hi rend="italics">Deaths</hi>&mdash;3, 14, 115, 141.</p></div><div><head>VI.  PSYCHOLOGICAL EFFECTS</head><p><hi rend="italics">Discouragement and anxiety of breadwinner</hi>&mdash;2, 3, 4, 12, 14, 16, 18, 19, 21, 24, 26, 27, 28, 31, 33, 37, 38, 40, 41, 44, 49, 50, 54, 58, 62, 63, 67, 68, 69, 76, 79, 80, 81, 82, 86, 87, 91, 94, 95, 97, 98, 105, 107, 108, 110, 113, 115, 122, 123, 126, 130, 133, 134, 141, 145, 147, 149, 150.</p><p><hi rend="italics">Drinking</hi>&mdash;4, 5, 8, 13, 14, 23, 29, 35, 48, 49, 61, 66, 70, 93, 99, 103, 147.</p><p><hi rend="italics">Cruelty toward wife and children</hi>&mdash;21, 29, 48, 58, 70, 103, 147.</p><p><hi rend="italics">Suicide or attempts at suicide</hi>&mdash;23, 35, 77, 93.</p><p><hi rend="italics">Crimes (stealing, forgery, etc.)</hi>&mdash;47, 58, 70, 88, 146.</p><p><hi rend="italics">Irritation in the home atmosphere</hi>&mdash;8, 12, 14, 17, 27, 32, 33, 41, 42, 46, 49, 50, 53, 57, 59, 62, 63, 65, 67, 68, 70, 72, 87, 96, 102, 103, 109, 120, 123, 126, 130, 133, 137.</p><p><hi rend="italics">Anxious attitude of children</hi>&mdash;2, 86, 101, 113, 121, 135.</p><p><hi rend="italics">Adolescent resentment because of lack of money, clothes, etc.</hi>&mdash;92, 96, 111, 123, 134, 137.</p><p><hi rend="italics">Pride against confessing change of status, etc.</hi>&mdash;33, 37, 71, 90, 107, 114, 126, 127, 137.</p><p><hi rend="italics">Juvenile delinquency and other behavior problems</hi>&mdash;11, 13, 21, 25, 26, 27, 32, 33, 35, 46, 47, 48, 50, 58, 70, 81, 82, 104, 109, 112, 137.</p><p><hi rend="italics">Feeling of bitterness engendered</hi>&mdash;6, 35, 43, 46, 49, 57, 60, 72.</p><p><hi rend="italics">Temporary desertion</hi>&mdash;45, 56, 62.</p><p><hi rend="italics">Lowered morale and loss of self-respect</hi>&mdash;5, 6, 13, 21, 29, 32, 34, 35, 48, 51, 63, 66, 102, 105, 107, 137, 149.</p><p><hi rend="italics">Unhappiness of sharing home</hi>&mdash;29, 63, 95, 148.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110434">434</controlpgno><printpgno>383</printpgno></pageinfo><p><hi rend="italics">Humiliation at receiving relief</hi>&mdash;18, 34, 52, 55, 114.</p><p><hi rend="italics">Cooperation heightened in home</hi>&mdash;121, 122, 145.</p></div><div><head>VII.  EFFECTS ON CHILDREN AND<lb>FUTURE PLANS</head><p><hi rend="italics">Children who may have to give up school, or those who have already given it up to go to work</hi>&mdash;5, 16, 17, 21, 26, 30, 32, 33, 35, 37, 40, 42, 43, 45, 47, 48, 58, 61, 66, 67, 69, 77, 80, 81, 85, 87, 96, 101, 102, 104, 105, 107, 109, 113, 114, 126, 127, 128, 130, 133, 134, 135, 142, 145, 150.</p><p><hi rend="italics">Inability to develop special talents of children</hi>&mdash;16, 18, 41, 44, 45, 73, 85, 101, 105, 129, 136, 142.</p><p><hi rend="italics">Inability to look forward to independent old age</hi>&mdash;4, 9, 12, 19, 21, 31, 32, 35, 36, 54, 67, 79, 86, 100, 103, 121, 133, 138.</p><p><hi rend="italics">Children put in homes or placed with relatives</hi>&mdash;13, 21, 132.</p><p><hi rend="italics">Curtailment of opportunities for recreation or relaxation</hi>&mdash;9, 12, 16, 19, 33, 36, 40, 59, 81, 84, 95, 107, 109, 126, 129.</p></div></body><back><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110435">435</controlpgno><printpgno>385</printpgno></pageinfo><div><head>APPENDIX A &mdash;PRIZE ESSAYS<lb>How Unemployment Looks to the Unemployed</head><p>The statements which follow were written by members of families in which there was unemployment, at the request of settlement staff workers.  To give zest to the job, three prizes were offered for the best papers.  The title assigned was &ldquo;What unemployment has meant to my family.&rdquo;</p><p>The genuineness of the stories is vouched for by the settlement staff workers who solicited them and by the Unemployment Committee.</p><div><head>By a Youth of Nineteen</head><p>Unemployment.  The curse of modern civilization.  It demoralizes the family, weakens the body and mind, destroys our faith in human beings, brings about chaos and controversies and worriment and arguments and quarrels and fights within the family, cause impoverished conditions in the home, and makes discontented, dejected and disheartened people.</p><p>Financial conditions in the family have always been bad. When all the members of the family work we find it difficult to make ends meet.  It is only with the severest economy that we are able to exist comfortable without luxury.  But when any member is without work we can not meet expenses. We are compelled by necessity to resort to evil, shady or underhand methods to secure necessities.  Our moral principles are discarded in the effort to secure a livelihood.  We beg, borrow with no intention of repayment, appropriate illegally food, clothing and money.  We become corrupt during the long interval of unemployment.  But this is trivial to what ensues.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110436">436</controlpgno><printpgno>386</printpgno></pageinfo><p>As misfortune follows misfortune we are met by another catastrophe; another member of the family is &ldquo;laid off.&rdquo;  Our rations of food and clothing are continually less.  The lack of food causes us to become weak in body.  We are merely able to drag ourselves about.  Our clothes in rags, we become slovenly, never caring to shave or wash ourselves.  Our mental condition becomes degraded and dull.  We have no interest for culture or refinement as our only desire is for food and more food.  Our bodies become weaker and weaker and our minds drag into the mud.  This leads to something worse.  We come to look upon life as drudgery and the people in it as our bosses who beat us whenever they can.  We become fanatics who believe life owes us a living.  We feel that the people are treating us meanly by not giving us food and clothing.  We think that human beings are not human but beasts and brutes who tantalize us at every opportunity.  Our faith in human being decreases tremendously.  No one is our friend, but everyone is our enemy.  This brings about another loss of faith.</p><p>We begin to lose faith in ourselves.  Family life becomes a chaotic mass.  We do not trust each other.  We quarrel, argue about insignificant matters.  We detest each other&apos;s presence.  We worry continually concerning our next meal, about bills such as rent, electric, gas, etc.  We become so heated in our arguments that we begin to have fist fights, throwing chairs and utensils about during the fights.  This finally ends in something more tragic.</p><p>Every family tries to keep its furniture, kitchen utensils and sleeping quarters intact.  If any of these articles go, that is the last straw.  The family is destitute.  So, when no more money is obtainable, we are forced to sell the contents of our home.  Within a short time the home is turned into a house, empty of all furnishings, rugless floors, tableless kitchen, chairless and bedless rooms.</p><p>This is sufficient to take all the life from out of our bodies.  We become a downhearted, brooding group of farnished <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110437">437</controlpgno><printpgno>387</printpgno></pageinfo>bodies, too ill to care what becomes of us, too tired and fatigue to keep on living.  What a life!</p><p><hi rend="italics">Philadelphia.</hi></p></div><div><head>By a Fourteen-Year-Old Daughter</head><p>Most people dread the word &ldquo;unemployed,&rdquo; especially those who are not equipped to meet the consequences. Unemployment in my family was not meet with outstretched hands.  All money saved was forfeited to this uninvited guest.</p><p>My father, a youth of thirteen, left Russia, the land of his birth and childhood, to come to America hoping to receive an education and earn a living for himself.  At the dock he was met by a stern-faced aunt who was to bring him up.  As soon as my father was acquainted with his new surroundings in port Jervis, New York, he had to do peddling for his aunt in return for his board and keep.  As my father was deprived of an education he decided to learn a trade to support himself and in later years his family.  His choice was that of a painter.  A few years later he left Port Jervis, to come to New York.  From New York he went to the state of Connecticut, the city of Stamford, to try his luck.  There my father met and fell in love with my blonde-headed mother, who had left Rumania fifteen years before.  After one year they were married.  My mother was an orphan and was brought up by her eldest sister.  They built a cottage house for two families near that of my aunt and after three and a half years of married life my mother bore her first child, myself.  Nine years went on and my mother found herself an inhabitant of Harlem, the mistress of three cheap rooms and the mother of three children, which has increased to six, the youngest of whom is a seven-months baby.</p><p>Up to three years ago my father was seldom out of work more than four months a year.  He belonged to the Painters&rsquo; Union and made around $12.00 a day and even in 1927 he sometimes made $14.  Then his work became slack.  He could not keep up with the fees of his union as they gradually <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110438">438</controlpgno><printpgno>388</printpgno></pageinfo>increased, and too, a contractor doing union work required a greater number of rooms painted a day so that he could have a larger gain.  The requirements of the contractors could not be met by my father as it had been his training to do his work thoroughly and therefore it took longer to accomplish it.  For example&mdash;a contractor demands five rooms painted a day including ceiling; my father&apos;s maximum is around three.  Not belonging to the union it was very difficult to secure work.  Many younger men without families picked up the trade and would underbid my father.  Finally, just before my little sister was born, eight months ago, my father was thrown out of work entirely.  Luck has not been ours since.</p><p>We were considered one of the best tenants in the house as all repairs were made by my father, including the painting.  Up to this time we were never behind in the payment of our rent, which, until a few months ago, was eighteen dollars a month, but is now twenty-one, and because our gas stove has a leak and is wasting gas, the landlord wants a two-dollar raise for a new stove.  When my father was thrown altogether out of work he did not have money to keep up the payment of the rent, gas, electricity, etc., because he had never been able to save much in former years&mdash;just a sufficient amount to tide us over the four winter months he was usually out of work.  This made it necessary for my father to borrow money to keep up with the bills.  He could have borrowed much more but did not have courage as he saw no way in the future of repaying these debts.</p><p>Necessarily we had to think how to make our expenses less.  Previous to this we had been using bottled grade A milk but was now forced to use loose milk.  In more ways than one my mother became economical with the use of food.  She would plan a meal very carefully and with so much care that no one would notice the difference even if she did use foods which were much less expensive.  it was her custom to buy our clothes, but she was now forced to find time to <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110439">439</controlpgno><printpgno>389</printpgno></pageinfo>make them, often staying far up in the night trying her best to make the children the necessary clothing.</p><p>Two years ago my father possessed a navy blue suit, but as times grew bad and he needed money he pawned it.  He then had a gray suit, but that also found its way to the same place.  This year his cousin redeemed his suits and also my mother&apos;s fur coat, which had been pawned for a year and a half.  My mother had not had a new dress in years.  Among other things that were my mother&apos;s wedding ring, wrist watch, and two watches that belonged to my father.  All recreation was stopped.</p><p>In order to continue high school I had to ask my parents for money for carfare, lunch and other school expenses which they could not possibly give me.  some time before this I had been obliged to drop the piano lessons which my father very much wanted me to continue.  It seems to me as if my parents are more irritable than before and very unreasonable.  Anything I do, does not seem to please them.  When I get to thinking about our position I lose control over myself and say things to my mother that I wish I hadn&apos;t.  Probably the younger children do not realize the circumstances at home as I do; they think that my mother is too tight to give them the money they used to get for an occasional movie, candy and other little things most children get.  The hope which we had all been fostering of owning our own home was now shattered by the continued unemployment of my father.  Nothing of value was ours any more and what was even more disastrous was we could not have necessities, as no money was coming in.</p><p>During all this time my father was getting more and more discouraged.  Nevertheless every morning would find him up hunting high and low for work, but returning at noon a sad father after a fruitless search.  At last it reached the climax.</p><p>My father was desperate.  He had relatives who could help, but they had rather save their money for themselves.  My mother&apos;s relatives were willing to help and occasionally <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110440">440</controlpgno><printpgno>390</printpgno></pageinfo>gave us presents, but they really need all they have for themselves and also my father was too proud to accept their assistance.</p><p>Not knowing where to turn my father, unknown to me, came to settlement where I am a member and asked if they had any work that needed to be done.  In this way Miss B. became interested in me and I was given a scholarship of $20.00 a month.  This helped, but of course was not enough for our needs.  The settlement referred my father to the Jewish Social Service, who gave us some money to help in the emergency&mdash;$15 a week for food&mdash;and got a job for my father where he was under a contractor who expected him to do more rooms than he could, so he worked only a day or two and was again without work.  During all these months my father had not confined himself to the trade of painting but had tried to get anything that he could lay his hand on.</p><p>In my estimation it is a crime that a person physically well and seeking work should be so humiliated by not being able to supply the needs of his family.  We are getting discouraged and our only hope is that we shall not have to entertain this uninvited guest much longer.</p><p><hi rend="italics">New York City.</hi></p></div><div><head>By a Thirteen-Year-Old Boy</head><p>The happy days I had spent in my home, Clinton, Mass, were real good days until one sad day the factory or mill in which my father had worked gave a notice that their factory would only operate three days a week.  My father came home that day planning of what to do, because of the notice given him and the employees of the factory.  As the days passed one after another my father was still at his plan thinking of where he could get a better position to support our family.  My father thought that the two days a week would soon be over.  But still the two or three days a week of employment went on.  Our or my father&apos;s and mother&apos;s <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110441">441</controlpgno><printpgno>391</printpgno></pageinfo>money was petty near spent.  Now my father was forced to think and act quick.  In order to prevent hunger and to keep our home.</p><p>My little sister and I tried to help my father in a way which we thought best.  My little sister thought of helping the lady next door by taking care of the lady&apos;s baby while the lady went shopping.  Thus she earned fifty cents.  I tried to help my father by having a paper route after school hours.  Thus I received my salary of one dollar and fifty cents per week.  My little sister and I gave our salary to my father in order to help him and keep our home that we loved since we were very young.  But now the factory only operated two days a week and our salary of two dollars a week wouldn&apos;t help my father any in buying our clothing and food.</p><p>When my father thought that the worst was to come he decided to go to another town and city in order to find a position that would help to support and keep our home.  Now my little sister and I were forced to eat coffee and bread with lard in place of the creamery butter for our breakfast.  My father made out a plan to seek employment in another city.  I helped him by packing his suitcase.  Before he left our home he said a prayer to the Lord.  Because he knew that if he asked the Lord for help the Lord might help him.  But unhappiness befell him because the city that he went to in search of work was on strike.  Again he came home unhappy because of what befell him.</p><p>Now my father was worried because he didn&apos;t know what to do, or how he could support our family.  He didn&apos;t have no employment now because he had given up his last position when he went away to another city for a position.  That night he thought very hard and tried to decide if he should accept his last position again or should he go again to another city seeking employment.  My mother helped him to decide that question by asking him to accept his last position, and work until he could earn a little money enough to support us and save some in case of moving out of the city. <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110442">442</controlpgno><printpgno>392</printpgno></pageinfo>My father knew that he could not earn money the way my mother had thought.  But just to please my mother he accepted his old position.  Three weeks had passed; still the three days a week  of employment was on.  My father had another plan.  But just as he was going to work his plan the overseers of the mill in which my father was employed gave a notice that the factory would operate a full week except Sundays.  That night my father was very happy to think that he wouldn&apos;t be forced to give up the home he and we loved.  Now our worried heads refreshed because we knew we could support ourselves now.</p><p><hi rend="italics">New Bedford, Mass.</hi></p></div><div><head>By a Nineteen-Year-Old Youth</head><p>A vacation that I should have enjoyed was utterly ruined by the constant worrying of whether or not I would still have my position when I came back to the city.  On reaching home a letter awaited me, stating that they were no longer in need of my services.  Although anticipating it, months before, I had faint hopes of keeping my position with the railroad company where I was employed in the capacity of a clerk.</p><p>Earnestly, I began looking for work, assuring myself that it would be an easy task.  On the contrary, I soon found that it was not an easy task, as I had first thought.  Several places, where I thought I would most likely get work, would tell me that I was either the third or fourth former railroad employee that had applied there for a position that day.  If they would ask me to fill out an application, it was equivalent of telling me they needed no one, as I had already filled out more applications in one month than I could remember, yet I received an answer from none.</p><p>This was discouraging, to say that the least; however, it was nothing as compared to the stories told me by different people that I met while searching for work.  I remember one chap in particular, who told me he had been discharged <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110443">443</controlpgno><printpgno>393</printpgno></pageinfo>with hundreds of other men, from a large ship building plant that had closed down entirely.  He went on to say, that if he could not earn money honestly, he would get it by stealing, in order to keep a home for his wife and son, who were then in a maternity hospital.</p><p>I have had experience of being unemployed several times during my short career in the business world, and although not long enough to be as disastrous as thousands of other cases, it did change matters somewhat, in our own home.  With good management by the head of the house, my mother, and fortunately being able to borrow, we found a way to tide us over until I found employment.</p><p>My last spell of unemployment lasted for six months.  During this time the only source of money was from some close friends, who had work to do, and knew of my being unemployed.</p><p>Snow was never more welcome than during that time, which meant a few more dollars to make things easier, by joining the so-called &ldquo;Shover Army,&rdquo; employed by the city to clear the streets of snow.  I may not have been, but I imagined that I was the youngest one in that &ldquo;Army,&rdquo; that was mostly made up of middle-aged men who had a home and family, and who were fervently hoping that the snow would fall all year, if it meant employment, such as they were then having.</p><p>The future, at this time, seemed dark, indeed, however, due to a close and kind friend, things were brightened somewhat, by a promise of work, beginning in the spring.  This work, I was told, would only last a few months; nevertheless, it meant a few more dollars to give at home, and at this time every penny counted.  In the meantime, this same kind friend gave me a letter of introduction to a man in the real estate and insurance business.  In the interview that followed, he told me of a position with a coal mining company which was at that time vacant.  Fortunately, I got the position, and now, after working there a year, the future for me looks brighter than it has ever before.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110444">444</controlpgno><printpgno>394</printpgno></pageinfo><p>If, while I was working, someone should tell me that it was almost impossible to find employment, I would find it hard to believe; yet it is the same with other people who are too busy at their own occupation and cannot possibly realize the enormous amount of suffering caused by unemployment in this prosperous country.  A man who is sharing in this prosperity knows, that in order to have a prosperous country, the manufacturers must make goods cheaply and economically.  Therefore the mass production of manufacturing companies, which is the basis of the country&apos;s prosperity, demands less and less man power, thereby causing much suffering and hardship among the working class of people.</p><p>I sincerely hope that from what I have written, the leaders of the country, and the people who are endeavoring to improve, and perhaps abolish one of the world&apos;s greatest social problems, that of unemployment, will find another stone to help build a system, that will in turn, reward their efforts with success.</p><p><hi rend="italics">Philadelphia.</hi></p></div><div><head>By Ivan <omit reason="illegible" extent="1 word"></head><div><head>I</head><p>Somewhere in the distant darkness, a church bell tolled twelve times.  Above the slow drizzling rain a hushed whisper seemed to float, as from the lips of invisible witches and wizards, necromancers, and all that are practised in the black arts, announcing to each other the glad hour of midnight.</p><p>The magic hour...</p><p>And here am I, walking, for the tenth time, back and forth, to and fro, across the Bowery&mdash;the path of utter despair.</p><p>A week, only seven days, of unemployment, and I have become an eligible denizen among the disinherited, the hopeless, the God-forsaken-Christ&apos;s <hi rend="italics">last</hi>, who are waiting for the <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110445">445</controlpgno><printpgno>395</printpgno></pageinfo>Day of Judgment, when they will be among those called <hi rend="italics">first.</hi></p><p>Ah, who knows, perhaps these grotesque shadows in tatters, moving in such mysterious silence, and with such resigned humility, are really lofty spirits in disguise, come for an hour to look, with ironic disdain, upon this Babel of Commerce!  But, no; their eyes, so eagerly searching the faces of the passers-by for rare traces of kindness, mercy, benevolence, do show ineradicable signs of the human outcast.</p><p>I am approached by one.  His face is pale; his drawn features like a mask of diabolical frenzy; and his eyes&mdash;wide, sleepless and piercing.  Woe is me!  What shall I do?  I am like in a stupor.  I wait with shame in my heart&mdash;for soon his hand will be stretched out to me and,&mdash;will receive nothing...</p><p>&ldquo;Brother!  Comrade!  Fellow-worker!&rdquo;  I greet him, clasping his open empty hand, my voice breaking with emotion.</p><p>Hail!  Two lost souls have met in friendship; and the world, and all humanity, is again redeemed.</p><p>One man, hungry, is dismal; two men hungry, can talk and forget.</p></div><div><head>II</head><p>Another day of fruitless search for work, and my mind turns upon itself with poisoned fangs, as did the fabled scorpion.  ... And, in its death-throes, the mind sees visions,&mdash;fantastic and impossible,&mdash;of supreme retaliation.  ... In its swan-song resound Omar Khayy&agrave;m quatrains:  &ldquo;Could thou and I with Fate conspire.  ... To grasp this sorry scheme of things entire...</p><p>It is done.  I have obeyed the last wish of my dying mind.  The world is wholly destroyed.  Chaos rules.  In my imagination I stand far off from this cosmic debris, satisfied with my handiwork, gloating over the confusion I have so instantaneously wrought.</p><p>Now, behold!  I am face-to-face with God, who demands in a voice of thunder:  &ldquo;Why did you do this?&rdquo;</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110446">446</controlpgno><printpgno>396</printpgno></pageinfo><p>&ldquo;Because I have been a long time out of a job,&rdquo; I reply defiantly.</p><p>&ldquo;M-m-m!  Is that so?&rdquo;  God mumbles.  &ldquo;That&apos;s not right is it?&mdash;Now, let me think.  What street was it I saw a....&rdquo;</p><p>As I walked on, a sign in a restaurant window attracted my attention.  &ldquo;Porter Wanted,&rdquo; it said.</p><p>I started at if for a while, unbelievingly.  There, before me, is the solution to all my problems&mdash;a job.</p><p>But just as I am about to go in, someone collides with me.  A man with a look of secrecy in his shifty eyes.</p><p>&ldquo;&apos;Xcuse me!&rdquo;  he says.  Then he whispers:  &ldquo;Say, buddy, come here!  Please, before you go in there.&rdquo;</p><p>I follow the man for two paces, and he begins in a pleading tone:<lb>&ldquo;Don&apos;t ye know that that&apos;s a &lsquo;scab&rsquo; place?&mdash;We&apos;re strikin&rsquo;, we are; and all them that&apos;s workin&rsquo; in there, they&apos;re a bunch of dirty, yellow, rotten scabs.  ... All the cafeteria workers are out&mdash;for better pay, an&rsquo; better conditions, an&rsquo; union hours. ... The dammed bosses got an injunction out; but nothin&rsquo; kin stop me from picketin&apos;.  I&apos;ve got a wife an&rsquo; three kids, but the union come first&mdash;see!  That&apos;s why I&apos;m takin&rsquo; the risk of goin&rsquo; to jail for talkin&rsquo; to ye&mdash;get me?&mdash; You, buddy, don&apos;t look the kind that&apos;s gonna help the &lsquo;iron heel&rsquo; get the best of us. ... You&apos;re not ag&apos;inst us, are you?&rdquo;</p><p>&ldquo;I?  I&apos;m against the whole world,&rdquo; I replied, &ldquo;but I&apos;ll not scab on anybody.&mdash;So long!&rdquo;</p></div><div><head>III</head><p>&ldquo;Food ... Bread ... Meat ...&rdquo;</p><p>The stifled and agonizing cry of Man, for ages past, now reverberates through me.</p><p>The painful gnawing in my stomach I recognize as definite signals preceding an uprising of the <hi rend="italics">individual against society.</hi></p><p>I reflect, and begin to understand, with inverted clairvoyant precision, the reason why the Hebrews swooped down upon the Amalekites, the Edomites, the Canaanites.  Hunger.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110447">447</controlpgno><printpgno>397</printpgno></pageinfo><p>The vandals, descending upon, and plundering Rome, was because of&mdash;hunger.  ... Now, I am about to re-enact, singly, what entire races did in the past.  ... The race lives in the individual.</p><p>But, hold!  What&apos;s this?</p><p>Union Square is filled with people.  Many of them are sporting red hoods, red waist bands, red shirts,&mdash;only the red banner is not there...</p><p>I am reminded that it is the First of May.  Yes, this is the day of celebration&mdash;for children and communists....</p><p>The crowds are growing larger and a movement is started to get the red workers into line-formation, in order to start a parade.</p><p>I go to join them&mdash;for hunger is easily stilled by the excitements of crowds.  They too are hungry&mdash;for the Dictatorship of the Proletariat...</p><p>Two dozen mounted police, in close rank, their horses nervously stamping the asphalt, watch from a distance.  They, the police, seem to be amused, and laugh good-naturedly at the spectacle of impotent rebellion, evident in their horseless and clubless brothers.</p><p>&ldquo;Hell and damnation!&rdquo;  some one beside me cries out.  He holds his hand forth, and receives a few drops of rain upon his palm.  &ldquo;The rain&apos;ll spoil our demonstration!&rdquo;</p><p>&ldquo;Look at those Cossacks&mdash;laughing, and poking each other in the ribs!&rdquo; growls another.</p><p>&ldquo;Loyal servants of the exploiting class&mdash;&rdquo; mumbles one, as though he was repeating an oath, &ldquo;we&apos;ll straighten our accounts with you, before long...&rdquo;</p><p>The rain suddenly comes down in a merry torrent, and the May-Day celebrants run to the co&ouml;perative Cafeteria, filing it with their noise, their smoke, their general chaotic vociferations, and with their own wet persons.</p><p>The turnstile, admitting to the horseshoe-shaped counters of food, clicks incessantly.  Everybody eats.  But, unfortunately for me, one must pay for food here, as well as anywhere <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110448">448</controlpgno><printpgno>398</printpgno></pageinfo>else.  One of the slogans of the communists is:  &ldquo;Those who work shall eat.&rdquo;</p><p>I go out&mdash;in the rain.</p></div><div><head>IV</head><p>The sun shines again.</p><p>&ldquo;Say!&rdquo;  I hear someone behind me</p><p>I stop.</p><p>A chap in a brown suit, a cap, and a red necktie&mdash;indicating a &ldquo;red.&rdquo;</p><p>&ldquo;My name&apos;s Ben&mdash;remember me?&rdquo;</p><p>&ldquo;I don&apos;t,&rdquo;  I admit.</p><p>&ldquo;We met in Seattle&mdash;ten years ago.  You put me up for a month, and staked me till I got work&mdash;did you forget?&rdquo;</p><p>&ldquo;Well, I&apos;ll be&mdash;; you&apos;re Ben S &mdash;.&rdquo;</p><p>We embrace.</p><p>&ldquo;What are you doing now?&rdquo;  I ask.</p><p>&ldquo;Never mind what I&apos;m doing.&rdquo; he retorts; &ldquo;what are you doing?  You look like you&apos;re down and out.  ... I followed you out of the Co&ouml;p.&mdash;You didn&apos;t eat yet, did you?&rdquo;</p><p>&ldquo;Man does not live on bread alone,&rdquo;  I quote jestingly.</p><p>&ldquo;Can that stuff!&mdash;It was alright in the days when bums were held in respect; the spirit then had some chance; but now, in this mechanical age, both are useless and despised.</p><p>Here&apos;s a good place to eat.  Come on, follow me, or, before long, I&apos;ll be following a black hearse with you in it.  Now, after you get this &lsquo;ham and&mdash;&rsquo; under your belt, I&apos;ll reveal unto you a secret, how to make a living.&rdquo;</p></div><div><head>V</head><p>Ben S&mdash;and I are standing over a grating on Broadway.  Masses of people pass us unconcernedly.  They do not know what we are about, or their curiosity would be aroused, and my friend&apos;s activities would come to an end.  I act as his shield.</p><p>&ldquo;I&apos;m showing you how to make money on Broadway,&rdquo; he laughs.  &ldquo;You just watch out for crops, and I&apos;ll do the <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110449">449</controlpgno><printpgno>399</printpgno></pageinfo>rest.&mdash;They don&apos;t like to see fellows linger about suspiciously.&rdquo;</p><p>I am watching for cops, and with one eye I watch his operation.  At the present moment Ben is pulling upon a string which he had let down through the grating.  At the end of the string is a cylindrical magnet, a quarter of an inch in circumference, and a little larger at the lowest end.</p><p>A silver coin is shining at the wider end, which my friend quickly clips off and shows me.  A silver quarter!</p><p>He begins walking slowly over the gratings, which cover the air shafts of the subways, and peers down with eagle-like intentness, while I follow him.</p><p>Three squares farther he suddenly stops, and utters an oath denoting happy surprise and anticipation.</p><p>&ldquo;It might be a  &lsquo;fin,&rsquo;&rdquo; he whispers to me.  &ldquo;Do you see it?&rdquo;</p><p>I look down and do not see anything but a lot of dirt and little scraps of paper at a depth of seven or eight feet.</p><p>My friend, meanwhile, has taken from his pocket a new contrivance:  a leaden cylinder, but half the size of the first one, two straightened fish hooks grooved into the sides of it.  He lets that down by a string; and when it is already on a piece of dirty paper, which he said was the bill, he suddenly lifts the little engine, then lets it fall back with its own weight.  When he draws up the cylinder again, the bill is securely pinned to the fish-hooks.</p><p>&ldquo;It&apos;s only a dollar bill,&rdquo; he says disappointedly, as he brushed clean the currency.  &ldquo;If it was more, we&apos;d celebrate.  ...Well, let&apos;s go and have supper, anyway.&mdash;I&apos;m some inventor, eh?  It took me two years to think up this scheme,&mdash;how to beat the system.  ... But listen, <hi rend="italics">mum&apos;s</hi> the word&mdash;understand?  I&apos;m letting you in on this because you were white with me once.  So, don&apos;t give it away, you hear?  And as long as you&apos;re in New York, and with me, you&apos;ll not be wanting for money.  And say, after a windy day, I just &lsquo;clean up&rsquo;.  ... Would you believe it?  I once fished up a &lsquo;century&rsquo; with my little plungers.&rdquo;</p><p>What&apos;s that?&rdquo;</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110450">450</controlpgno><printpgno>400</printpgno></pageinfo><p>&ldquo;A century!  A hundred dollars.  ...&rdquo;</p><p>&ldquo;You don&apos;t say!&rdquo;</p><p>&ldquo;You can be my partner&mdash;understand?&mdash;and we&apos;ll both beat the system.  Is it a go?&rdquo;</p><p>&ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;</p><p>&ldquo;Shake on it, then.&rdquo;</p><p>We shook hands, and formed a strange partnership.</p><p>That&apos;s what unemployment did to me.</p><p><hi rend="italics">New York City.</hi></p></div></div></div><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110451">451</controlpgno><printpgno>401</printpgno></pageinfo><div><head>APPENDIX B</head><p>Unemployment Committee of the National<lb> Federation of Settlements</p><p><hi rend="italics">Executive Committee</hi><lb><list><item><p>Helen Hall, Chairman</p></item><item><p>S. Max Nelson, Treasurer</p></item><item><p>J. Frederic Dewhurst</p></item><item><p>Ethel W. Dougherty</p></item><item><p>Helen Harris</p></item><item><p>Paul U. Kellogg</p></item><item><p>Bruno Lasker</p></item><item><p>Lea Taylor</p></item><item><p>Mary Van Kleeck</p></item><item><p>Charles C. Cooper, Ex-officio<anchor id="N451-01">*</anchor></p></item><item><p>Albert J. Kennedy, Ex-officio</p></item></list></p><note anchor.ids="N451-01" place="bottom">* Deceased.</note><p><hi rend="italics">Field Committee</hi><lb><list><item><p>Boston, Jane McCrady</p></item><item><p>Buffalo, Eleanor Emerson</p></item><item><p>Chicago, Lea Taylor</p></item><item><p>Cleveland, Alice Gannett</p></item><item><p>Columbus, Mrs. Carl H. Bogart</p></item><item><p>Detroit, Sarah Selminski</p></item><item><p>Des Moines, Edith Gill.</p></item><item><p>Indianapolis, Mrs. Olive D. Edwards</p></item><item><p>Louisville, Frances Ingram</p></item><item><p>Newark, N. J., Edward B. Jacobson</p></item><item><p>New Orleans, Eleanor McMain</p></item><item><p>New York City, Isabel Taylor</p></item><item><p>Omaha, Helen Gauss</p></item><item><p>Philadelphia, Helen Hall</p></item><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110452">452</controlpgno><printpgno>402</printpgno></pageinfo><item><p>Pittsburgh, Ralph S. Hudson</p></item><item><p>Minneapolis, Mrs. Anna Quayle</p></item><item><p>Rochester, Mrs. Francis Jerdone</p></item><item><p>St. Louis, Mr. J. A. Wolf</p></item><item><p>Washington, D. C., Mrs. J. P. S. Neligh</p></item><item><p>Irene H. Nelson, Secretary of Study</p></item></list></p></div><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110453">453</controlpgno><printpgno>403</printpgno></pageinfo><div><head>APPENDIX C&mdash;SETTLEMENTS AND OTHER<lb>ORGANIZATIONS COOPERATING IN<lb>THE UNEMPLOYMENT STUDY</head><list> <item><p><hi rend="smallcaps">California</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">Los Angeles</hi><lb>Probation Office</p></item><item><p><hi rend="smallcaps">Connecticut</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">Hartford</hi><lb>Hartford Social Settlement</p></item><item><p><hi rend="smallcaps">District of California</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">Washington</hi><lb>Friendship House</p></item><item><p><hi rend="smallcaps">Georgia</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">Atlanta</hi><lb>Family Welfare Society<lb><hi rend="italics">Columbus</hi><lb>Family Welfare Society<lb><hi rend="italics">Savannah</hi><lb>Family Welfare Society<lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Illinois</hi></p></item><item><p><hi rend="italics">Chicago</hi><lb>Chicago Commons<lb>Fellowship House<lb>Hull House<lb>Laird Community House<lb>Olivet Institute<lb>South Chicago Center<lb>University of Chicago Settlement</p></item><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110454">454</controlpgno><printpgno>404</printpgno></pageinfo><item><p><hi rend="smallcaps">Indiana</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">Indianapolis</hi><lb>Christamore House<lb><hi rend="smallcaps">Kentucky</hi></p></item><item><p><hi rend="italics">Louisville</hi><lb>Baptist Good Will Center<lb>Calvary Point Community House<lb>Neighborhood House<lb>Ninth and Hill Center<lb>Plymouth Settlement<lb>Sunshine Center<lb>Wesley Community House<lb>Rose Hudson Community Center</p></item><item><p><hi rend="smallcaps">Louisiana</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">Lafayette</hi><lb>Home Relief Association<lb><hi rend="italics">New Orleans</hi><lb>Family Service Society<lb>Kingsley House</p></item><item><p><hi rend="smallcaps">Massachusetts</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">Boston</hi><lb>Denison House<lb>Elizabeth Peabody House<lb>Ellis Memorial<lb>Good Will Neighborhood House<lb>Jamaica Plain Neighborhood House<lb>Lincoln House<lb>Little House<lb>North Bennett Street Industrial School<lb>North Brighton Community Centre<lb>North End Union<lb>Robert Gould Shaw House<lb><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110455">455</controlpgno><printpgno>405</printpgno></pageinfo>Roxbury Neighborhood House<lb>South End House<lb>Trinity Neighborhood House<lb><hi rend="italics">Cambridge</hi><lb>Cambridge Neighborhood House<lb>East End Union<lb>Margaret Fuller House<lb><hi rend="italics">Fall River</hi><lb>King Philip Settlement House<lb><hi rend="italics">Roxbury</hi><lb>Norfolk House Center</p></item><item><p><hi rend="smallcaps">Michigan</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">Detroit</hi><lb>Dodge Community House<lb>Franklin Street Settlement<lb>Highland Park Community Center</p></item><item><p><hi rend="smallcaps">Minnesota</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">Minneapolis</hi><lb>North East Neighborhood House<lb>Pillsbury Settlement House<lb>Washington Neighborhood House<lb>Wells Memorial House</p></item><item><p><hi rend="smallcaps">Missouri</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">St. Louis</hi><lb>Holy Cross Corporation<lb>Kingdom House<lb>Neighborhood Association<lb>Wesley House</p></item><item><p><hi rend="smallcaps">Nebraska</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">Omaha</hi><lb>Omaha Social Settlement</p></item><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110456">456</controlpgno><printpgno>406</printpgno></pageinfo><item><p><hi rend="smallcaps">New Jersey</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">Newark</hi><lb>Ironbound Community House<lb>Jewish Day Nursery and Neighborhood House<lb><hi rend="italics">Orange</hi><lb>Orange Valley Social Settlement</p></item><item><p><hi rend="smallcaps">New York</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">Buffalo</hi><lb>Welcome Hall<lb><hi rend="italics">New York City</hi><lb>Christodora House<lb>Church of the Sea and Land<lb>College Settlement<lb>East Side House<lb>Federation Settlement<lb>Greenwich House<lb>Haarlem House<lb>Hebrew Educational Society<lb>Hudson Guild<lb>Neighborhood House of the Central Presbyterian Church<lb>New York Urban League<lb>110th Street Neighborhood Club<lb>Recreation Rooms and Settlement<lb>Jacob A. Riis Neighborhood Settlement<lb>Stuyvesant Neighborhood House<lb>Union Settlement<lb>Willoughby House Settlement<lb><hi rend="italics">Rochester</hi><lb>Baden Street Settlement<lb>Charles Settlement House<lb>Lewis Street Center</p></item><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110457">457</controlpgno><printpgno>407</printpgno></pageinfo><item><p><hi rend="smallcaps">Ohio</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">Cleveland</hi><lb>Alta Social Settlement<lb>Friendly Inn<lb>Goodrich Social Settlement<lb>Hiram House<lb>Merrick House<lb><hi rend="italics">Toledo</hi><lb>North Toledo Community House</p></item><item><p><hi rend="smallcaps">Pennsylvania</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">Philadelphia</hi><lb>College Settlement<lb>House of Industry<lb>Neighborhood Center<lb>Saint Martha&apos;s House<lb>Settlement Music School<lb>Southwark Neighborhood House<lb>Stanfield Playground<lb>The Lighthouse<lb>University House<lb>Webster House<lb>Workman Place House<lb><hi rend="italics">Pittsburgh</hi><lb>Irene Kaufman Settlement<lb>Kingsley House<lb>Woods Run Settlement</p></item><item><p><hi rend="smallcaps">South Carolina</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">Charleston</hi><lb>Associated Charities</p></item><item><p><hi rend="smallcaps">Tennessee</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">Nashville</hi><lb>Martha O&apos;Bryan Community House</p></item><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110458">458</controlpgno><printpgno>408</printpgno></pageinfo><item><p><hi rend="smallcaps">Utah</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">Salt Lake City</hi><lb>Neighborhood House</p></item><item><p><hi rend="smallcaps">Wisconsin</hi><lb><hi rend="italics">Madison</hi><lb>Neighborhood House</p></item></list></div><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110459">459</controlpgno><printpgno>409</printpgno></pageinfo><div><head>APPENDIX D&mdash;FORM OF QUESTIONNAIRE<anchor id="N459-01">1</anchor><lb>Household Pictures of the Consequences<lb>of Unemployment</head><note anchor.ids="N459-01" place="bottom">1 The questionnaire was made in the form of a pad of eight pages, 7 by 10 inches in size.  Each page had one of the headings here reproduced, with three-quarters or more of the page left blank below it.  The last page was headed with the request for the re-telling of the story.</note><p>We are not attempting anything statistical in our settlement study; rather we are gathering testimony from our neighborhoods as to the effects on home and neighborhood life of the cutting off of family income, due to industrial causes.</p><p>Neighborhood workers are in an especially favorable position to bear witness to these facts.  We do not merely know families when they are in trouble; we live beside them in good fortune and bad, consecutively throughout the years, and <hi rend="italics">can make comparison between their normal standards and what unemployment does to them.</hi></p><p>The study will not be of families where sickness, strikes, habits, or other personal causes of unemployment are chiefly concerned; but where through some stoppage or change in industry, the breadwinner is thrown out of work, and home and neighborhood life are affected because of something happening outside of their control.</p><p>We want you to select those cases which are best known to you and mean the most; but we hope you will ask yourself if these are cases due to any of the causes suggested on page three, and if possible give one case of each type, but give most of your cases of the type predominating in your neighborhood.</p><p>For your convenience this pad has been arranged so that you can write the full story of one case on each pad.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110460">460</controlpgno><printpgno>410</printpgno></pageinfo><p>Return when filled out, by March fifteenth, to<lb> <hi rend="smallcaps">Mrs. Max Nelson,</hi><lb> Secretary of Unemployment<lb> Study Committee.<lb> 237 East 104th Street,<lb> New York City.</p><div><head>Introducing the Family</head><p>(Designate in some way so that we can ask you further questions if need be, but so that the family name will be a matter of confidence.)</p><p>Please set down such facts as race, nationality, composition of family with ages; how long known to the settlement; who are the breadwinners and what were their occupations when last employed and wages; experience of the chief breadwinner as a workman; what training and education he had for his life-work; and then a little picture of the household as you would tell it to a friend in a way which would bring out the family&apos;s standard before they were struck by unemployment.</p></div><div><head>Enter the Unemployment Which Leads You<lb>to Tell the Story</head><p>What caused this unemployment (treat case of each breadwinner separately?)</p><list><item><p>(a)  General business depression.</p></item><item><p>(b)  Seasonal work (in this case some of the questions that follow do not of course fit).</p></item><item><p>(c)  Market changes (such as the shift from cotton to silk underclothes).</p></item><item><p>(d)  Mechanization (such as installation of labor-saving machinery).</p></item><item><p>(e)  Some other cause of first are importance in your locality.</p></item></list><p>Tell as many facts as you can, as to how it came about.</p><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110461">461</controlpgno><printpgno>411</printpgno></pageinfo><p>Tell how long out of work.</p><p>Did he get part time or substitute work or less skilled work, and how did he get it?</p><p>What did he lose in wages?</p></div><div><head>Home Consequences&mdash;Economic</head><p>What can you tell as to the effect of unemployment upon the family&apos;s financial arrangements?  Had they savings which saw them through?  Did they use them up or run into debt?  State what you know as to lapse of rent, of insurance, of union dues, as to articles in pawn or loss of articles partly paid for on installment plan.  Has it become necessary for wife or children to find work, for the family to move into poorer quarters, or to take roomers or boarders?  Has relief been received from church, settlement, city or other social agency?</p></div><div><head>Home Consequences&mdash;Physical</head><p>Were they able to keep up normal standards?  If not, describe whatever change you have noticed in the material welfare of the household, whether in diet, in clothing, in home furnishings, or in character of living quarters (when reduced income has necessitated removal or over-crowding).</p><p>Give the effect upon the health of the family.  Were there evidences of undernourishment?  What about the growth of the children?  Tell of any condition of ill-health present in the family that you consider due to the poverty and make-shifts resulting from unemployment.  Is it possible for this family to attend to defective teeth, minor operations, etc.?  To care adequately for temporary or chronic illness?  What is the effect upon the physical well-being of the family if the mother takes on outside work, including her own health and nervous stability?</p><p>Be sure to deal only with effects which ca be traced directly to unemployment.</p></div><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110462">462</controlpgno><printpgno>412</printpgno></pageinfo><div><head>Home Consequences&mdash;Psychological</head><p>What can you say of the wage-earner&apos;s own attitude toward the family&apos;s predicament?  Tell what you know of how he faces the problem of bills and other debts, of his initiative is seeking a job, of his attitude toward asking and receiving help.  Do you notice any change in his self-respect and self-reliance?  Has he faced the situation with courage, or the reverse?</p><p>What of the wife and other dependent adults?  Describe their general attitude, whether of fortitude, of anxiety, of censoriousness.  Tell about the effects upon any member of the family who may have been forced to do double duty within outside the home.</p><p>In the case of children, state any change in their attitude toward their parents.  If there are changes in the habits or attitudes of the unemployed breadwinner, what is the effect on others, especially the children?  If any of the children have been obliged to leave school and go to work or to enter a trade (or casual work) offering no future, how do they feel about it?</p><p>What would you say of the effect upon the home atmosphere?  What control do the parents exercise?  Is there harmony or disharmony?  Co&ouml;peration, or lack of it?</p><p>If unemployment seems to have affected the moral standards of the unemployed or his family, what has been the change in attitude (toward the family, the law, society at large) and what the outcome in behavior (gambling, bootlegging, prostitution, neglect or desertion, juvenile delinquency)?</p></div><div><head>Home Consequences&mdash;Future Values</head><p>How has unemployment curtailed the family&apos;s opportunities for development?  Quote their own testimony, if you can, as to change in the possibility of securing relaxation, recreation, exercise, self-improvement, of taking advantage of community benefits, or sharing in civic causes, as to the <pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110463">463</controlpgno><printpgno>413</printpgno></pageinfo>prospect of financing illness, of looking forward to comfortable and independent old age.</p><p>What change has unemployment brought about in the chance of children to develop their talents and to satisfy the normal wants of childhood and youth?  How has their prospect of higher education or of learning a skilled trade been affected?  Relate what you think this home has lost through unemployment as a place of security for growing children, and as a source of encouragement or material aid for young people starting out in life.</p><p>(<hi rend="italics">Last Page.</hi>)</p><p>On the basis of the facts you have set down in the foregoing pages, tell this family&apos;s story in as vivid a manner as possible, either in your word or their own.</p></div></div><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110464">464</controlpgno><printpgno>415</printpgno></pageinfo><div type="index"><list><item><p>Adolescent, the, some effects on, 382</p></item><item><p>Age, independent old, inability to look forward to, 383</p></item><item><p>&mdash;old, a factor in re-employment, 379</p></item><item><p>Alta House, Cleveland, Ohio, 176, 365</p></item><item><p>Atlanta, Ga., 77, 164, 182, 267</p></item><item><p>Attitude, anxious, of parents, 382<lb>&mdash;&mdash;of children, 382</p></item><item><p>Baden St. Settlement, Rochester, N.Y., 151, 361</p></item><item><p>Barnett, Canon, xvi, xvii</p></item><item><p>Behavior problems, and juvenile delinquency, 382</p></item><item><p>Bitterness, feeling of, 382</p></item><item><p>Boarders or roomers taken in, 381</p></item><item><p>Borrowed, from friends, relatives, etc., 380<lb>&mdash;&mdash; on furniture or other security, xliii,<lb>380</p></item><item><p>Boston, Mass., 15, 41, 80, 87, 89, 106,<lb>108, 123, 132, 154, 159, 162, 178,<lb>184, 204, 220, 253, 257, 271, 325, 341, 364</p></item><item><p>Brooklyn, N.Y., 318</p></item><item><p>Buffalo, N.Y., 142, 246, 292</p></item><item><p>Business depression, 379</p></item><item><p>Calkins, Clinch, v, viii, xxv, xxxi</p></item><item><p>Calvary Point House, Louisville, Ky., 262</p></item><item><p>Cambridge, Mass., 127, 304<lb>&mdash;&mdash;Neighborhood House, Cambridge,<lb>Mass., 127</p></item><item><p>Casual labor, drop to, xxx, 379</p></item><item><p>Causes of unemployment, xi, xxiv, xxvi, 379</p></item><item><p>Charity, xliv ff., 381</p></item><item><p>Chicago, Ill., 7, 21, 44, 134, 190, 194,<lb>223, 224, 242, 248, 260, 273<lb>&mdash;&mdash;Commons, Chicago, Ill., 44, 134,<lb>223, 224, 260</p></item><item><p>Children, inability to develop special talents of, 383<lb>&mdash;&mdash;leaving school, 383<lb>&mdash;&mdash;milk supply cut down, 381<lb>&mdash;placed in homes or with relatives, 383<lb>&mdash;&mdash;working, 381</p></item><item><p>Cleveland, Ohio, 176, 265, 311, 314, 346, 356</p></item><item><p>Clothing problem, 381</p></item><item><p>College Settlement, Philadelphia, Pa.,<lb>84, 110, 215, 296, 299, 333</p></item><item><p>Columbus, Ga., 369</p></item><item><p>Committee, Unemployment, of the National Federation of Settlements, 401-2</p></item><item><p>Co&ouml;perating Organizations, 403-8</p></item><item><p>Co&ouml;peration, heightened in home, 383</p></item><item><p>Crimes, 382</p></item><item><p>Cruelty, 382</p></item><item><p>Deaths, 382</p></item><item><p>Debts, to grocers, butchers, milkmen, etc., 380</p></item><item><p>Delinquency, juvenile and other behavior problems, 382</p></item><item><p>Denison House, Boston, Mass., 253, 271</p></item><item><p>Depression, business, 379</p></item><item><p>Desertion, temporary, 382</p></item><item><p>Detroit, Mich., 29, 66, 350</p></item><item><p>Diet, inadequate, xlvii, 381</p></item><item><p>Discouragement, 382</p></item><item><p>Disease, 382</p></item><item><p>Dodge Community House, Detroit, Mich., 29, 350</p></item><item><p>Drinking, 382</p></item><item><p>Dues, union, lapsed, 380</p></item><item><p>East Side House, New York, N.Y., 64, 212</p></item><item><p>Eastman, Crystal, xvi</p></item><item><p>Economic effects of unemployment, xxx, 380</p></item><item><p>Effects of unemployment, economic,<lb>xxx, 380; physical, xxx, 381; psychological,<lb>xxxi, 382; on future values, xxiv ff., 383</p></item><item><p>Elizabeth Peabody House, Boston, Mass., 87, 108, 178, 364</p></item><item><p>Ellis Memorial, Boston, Mass., 41, 89, 159, 204, 220</p></item><item><p>Employment service, public, xxxviii, xxxix</p></item><item><p>Essays, prize, 385 ff.</p></item><item><p>Exchanges, labor, xxxviii, xxxix</p></item><item><p>Fall River, Mass., 54, 188</p></item><item><p>Family Service Society, New Orleans, La., 36, 49, 144</p></item><item><p>Family Welfare Society, Atlanta, Ga., 77, 164, 182, 267<lb>&mdash;&mdash;Columbus, Ga., 369<lb>&mdash;&mdash;Savannah, Ga., 140, 206, 240</p></item><item><p>Fellowship House, Chicago, Ill., 248</p></item><item><p>Food problem, xlvii, 381</p></item><item><p>Furniture sold, 380</p></item><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110465">465</controlpgno><printpgno>416</printpgno></pageinfo><item><p>Future values, consequences, xxxiv ff., 383</p></item><item><p>Goodrich Social Settlement, Cleveland, Ohio, 356</p></item><item><p>Greenwich House, New York, N. Y., 161, 209, 288</p></item><item><p>Haarlem House, New York, N.Y., 113</p></item><item><p>Hartford Social Settlement, Hartford, Conn., 86</p></item><item><p>Highland Park Community Center, Detroit, Mich., 66</p></item><item><p>Hiram House, Cleveland, Ohio, 346</p></item><item><p>Home, comfortless, crowded, 381; irrigation in, 382</p></item><item><p>Homes, broken up, xlvi, 383</p></item><item><p>House of Industry, Philadelphia, Pa., 306</p></item><item><p>Hudson Guild, New York, N.Y., 82, 166, 353</p></item><item><p>Hull-House, Chicago, Ill, 7, 21, 190, 194, 242</p></item><item><p>Indianapolis, Ind., 328, 335</p></item><item><p>Industrial Research Department, University of Pennsylvania, xxix</p></item><item><p>Instalment, non-payments, 380</p></item><item><p>Institute for Regularization, Philadelphia, xxxvii</p></item><item><p>Insurance, 380<lb>&mdash;&mdash; unemployment, xiii, xiv, xix, xl, xliv, xlix ff.</p></item><item><p>Interest payments on house, mortgages, etc., 380</p></item><item><p>Irene Kaufmann Settlement, Pittsburgh, Pa., 38, 52, 100</p></item><item><p>Irritation in home atmosphere, 382</p></item><item><p>Jamaica Plain Neighborhood House, Boston, Mass., 341</p></item><item><p>Job-hunting, efforts at, 379</p></item><item><p>Juvenile delinquency, 382</p></item><item><p>King Philip House, Fall River, Mass., 54, 188</p></item><item><p>Kingsley House, New Orleans, La., 11, 59, 72<lb>&mdash;&mdash;Pittsburgh, Pa., 4, 32, 95, 102, 115, 337</p></item><item><p>Labor, casual, drop to, 379</p></item><item><p>Lighthouse, The, Philadelphia, Pa., 46, 279</p></item><item><p>Lincoln House, Boston, Mass., 80, 106, 257</p></item><item><p>Little House, Boston, Mass., 325</p></item><item><p>Los Angeles, Calif., Probation Office, 222, 360</p></item><item><p>Louisville, Ky., 91, 111, 155, 172, 1800, 191, 227, 230, 262, 344</p></item><item><p>Madison, Wis., 207, 218, 233, 277</p></item><item><p>Malnutrition, xlvii ff., 381</p></item><item><p>Margaret Fuller House, Cambridge, Mass., 304</p></item><item><p>Market and style changes, 379</p></item><item><p>Mechanization and technological changes, xxxix, 379</p></item><item><p>Merrick House, Cleveland, Ohio, 311, 314</p></item><item><p>Method of the study, xxviii ff., 409 ff.</p></item><item><p>Minneapolis, Minn., 121, 228, 284, 301, 366</p></item><item><p>Morale, lowered, and loss of self-respect, 382</p></item><item><p>Moving, to cheaper quarters, xlv, 380</p></item><item><p>Nationality, American, 15, 46, 91, 100,<lb>111, 140, 155, 164, 172, 180[, 182,<lb>184, 190, 191, 206, 222, 223, 230,<lb>240, 262, 267, 279, 288, 320, 328,<lb>335, 360, 366, 369; (Assyrian<lb>parentage), 38; (Austrian parentage),<lb>209; (Danish parentage),<lb>358; (English parentage), 273,<lb>348; (French descent), 59, 72;<lb>(French parentage), 41, 212;<lb>(French Canadian parentage),<lb>329; (German descent), 151;<lb>(German parentage), 11, 32, 36,<lb>204, 248, 311; (Irish parentage),<lb>4, 18, 25, 70, 77, 89, 162, 174,<lb>188, 192, 237, 298, 318; (Italian<lb>parentage), 84, 86, 108, 110, 176,<lb>194, 299, 306, 364; (Jewish), 52,<lb>144; (Negro), 75, 132, 227, 346;<lb>(Polish parentage), 21, 215, 216;<lb>(Portuguese parentage), 127;<lb>(Russian parentage), 119, 170;<lb>(Scandinavian descent), 244;<lb>(Scotch parentage), 308; (Slovak<lb>parentage), 314<lb>&mdash;&mdash;Austrian, 44<lb>&mdash;&mdash;Croatian, 250<lb>&mdash;&mdash;Dalmatian, 82<lb>&mdash;&mdash;English, 281, 353<lb>&mdash;&mdash;French-Canadian, 54, 121<lb>&mdash;&mdash;German, 29<lb>&mdash;&mdash;Greek, 159, 271<lb>&mdash;&mdash;Hungarian, 64<lb>&mdash;&mdash;Irish, 106- 257, 325, 331, 341<lb>&mdash;&mdash;Italian, 1, 7, 66, 80, 95, 102, 113,<lb>115, 125, 147, 149, 154, 161, 166,<lb>168, 178, 202, 207, 218, 220, 233,<lb>234, 246, 265, 269, 277, 292, 296,<lb>304, 323, 333, 337, 361<lb>&mdash;&mdash;Latin-American, 49<lb>&mdash;&mdash;Mexican, 242<lb>&mdash;&mdash;POlish, 134, 137, 228, 260, 284, 301, 356<lb>&mdash;&mdash;Rumanian, 350<lb>&mdash;&mdash;Russian, 130, 289, 294</p></item><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110466">466</controlpgno><printpgno>417</printpgno></pageinfo><item><p>Nationality, Syrian, 123, 142, 253, 344</p></item><item><p>Neighborhood Centre, Philadelphia, Pa., 170, 294</p></item><item><p>Neighborhood House, Louisville, Ky., 91, 111, 155, 180, 230, 344<lb>&mdash;&mdash;Madison, Wis., 207, 218, 233, 277<lb>&mdash;&mdash;Salt Lake City, Utah, 320, 358</p></item><item><p>New Orleans, La., 11, 36, 49, 59, 72, 144</p></item><item><p>New York, N. Y., 1, 18, 64, 82, 113, 125,<lb>161, 166, 168, 209, 212, 269, 288,<lb>289, 323, 353</p></item><item><p>Norfolk House Center, Roxbury, Mass., 239</p></item><item><p>North Bennett St. Industrial School, Boston, Mass., 154<lb>&mdash;&mdash;Toledo Community House, Toledo, Ohio, 75, 331</p></item><item><p>Northeast Neighborhood House, Minneapolis, Minn., 228, 284, 301</p></item><item><p>Omaha Social Settlement, Omaha, Nebr., 250</p></item><item><p>110th Street Neighborhood Club, New York, N. Y., 269</p></item><item><p>Orange (N. J.) Valley Settlement, 149</p></item><item><p>Pawned jewelry, etc., 380</p></item><item><p>Philadelphia, Pa., 25, 46, 70, 84, 110,<lb>119, 130, 137, 149, 170, 174, 192,<lb>202, 215, 216, 234, 237, 279, 281,<lb>294, 296, 298, 299, 306, 308, 333,<lb>348</p></item><item><p>Physical effects of unemployment, xxx, 381</p></item><item><p>Pillsbury House, Minneapolis, Minn., 366</p></item><item><p>Pittsburgh, Pa., 4, 32, 38, 52, 95, 100, 102, 115, 337</p></item><item><p>Pittsburgh Survey, xvi</p></item><item><p>Pride, against confessing change of status, 382<lb>&mdash;&mdash;against accepting relief, 381</p></item><item><p>Probation Office, Los Angeles, Cal., 222, 360</p></item><item><p>Psychological effects of unemployment, xxxi, ff., 382</p></item><item><p>Public works, long-time planning for, xxxvii ff.</p></item><item><p>Questionnaire used, 409-13</p></item><item><p>Race.  See Nationality</p></item><item><p>Re-employment, 379</p></item><item><p>&ldquo;Recent Economic Changes,&rdquo; xi</p></item><item><p>Recreation and relaxation, curtailment of opportunities, 383<lb>&mdash;&mdash;Rooms, New York, Y. Y., 125, 289<lb>Regularization, xii, xvi, xxxvi ff., xl</p></item><item><p>Relief, charitable, xliv ff., 381<lb>&mdash;&mdash;humiliation at receiving, 383</p></item><item><p>Remedies suggested, x, xxxvi ff.</p></item><item><p>Rent unpaid, 380</p></item><item><p>Reserves, employment, xv, xl</p></item><item><p>Respiratory diseases, 382</p></item><item><p>Riis House, New York, N. Y., 18, 168</p></item><item><p>Robert Gould Shaw House, Boston, Mass., 132</p></item><item><p>Rochester, N. Y., 151, 361</p></item><item><p>Roomers taken in, xlvi, 381</p></item><item><p>Rose Hudson Community Center, Louisville, Ky., 191</p></item><item><p>Roster of case studies, 372-8</p></item><item><p>Roxbury, Mass., 329</p></item><item><p>Roxbury Neighborhood House, Boston, Mass., 15, 184</p></item><item><p>St. Martha&apos;s House, Philadelphia, Pa., 147, 202, 234</p></item><item><p>Salt Lake City, Utah, 320, 358</p></item><item><p>Savannah, Ga., 140, 206, 240</p></item><item><p>Savings, no, 380</p></item><item><p>&mdash;uacd up, xxx, xli, 380</p></item><item><p>Seasonality, 379</p></item><item><p>Security, xlix</p></item><item><p>Self-respect, loss of, 382</p></item><item><p>Settlement Music School, Philadelphia, Pa., 119</p></item><item><p>Shifts in occupations, xxx, 372-9</p></item><item><p>Social Service Public Schools, Indianapolis, Ind., 328, 335</p></item><item><p>South Boston Neighborhood House, Boston, Mass., 162</p></item><item><p>South Chicago Center, Chicago, Ill., 273</p></item><item><p>South End House, Boston, Mass., 123</p></item><item><p>Southwark Neighborhood House, Philadelphia, Pa., 130, 216, 281, 308</p></item><item><p>Stabilization, xxxvii</p></item><item><p>Standards of living, changes in, xlv ff.</p></item><item><p>Statistics, unemployment, xi, xiii, xiv, xxviii, xxix</p></item><item><p>Style changes, 379</p></item><item><p>Suicide attempts or suicide, 382</p></item><item><p>Sunshine Center (Col.), Louisville, Ky., 227</p></item><item><p>Swift, Dean, viii</p></item><item><p>Technological unemployment, xxxix, 379</p></item><item><p>Toledo, Ohio, 75, 331</p></item><item><p>Toynbee Hall vi, xvi</p></item><item><p>Union Settlement, New York, N. Y., 1, 323</p></item><item><p>University House, Philadelphia, Pa., 25, 70, 192, 298, 348</p></item><item><p>Vocation of breadwinner.  See Roster of case studies, 372 ff.</p></item><item><p>Wages, xi, xii, xiii, xxx</p></item><item><p>Washington Neighborhood House, Minneapolis, Minn., 121</p></item><item><p>Webster House, Philadelphia, Pa., 174</p></item><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110467">467</controlpgno><printpgno>418</printpgno></pageinfo><item><p>Welcome Hall, Buffalo, N. Y., 142, 346, 292</p></item><item><p>Wesley Community House, Louisville, Ky., 172</p></item><item><p>Wife (or mother) working, xlviii, 380</p></item><item><p>Willoughby House, Brooklyn, N. Y., 318</p></item><item><p>&ldquo;Work Accidents and the Law,&rdquo; xvi</p></item><item><p>Workman Place House, Philadelphia, Pa., 137, 237</p></item></list><pageinfo><controlpgno entity="lg110468">468</controlpgno><printpgno></printpgno></pageinfo><p><handwritten>130<lb><hi rend ="hunderscore">75</hi><lb><omit reason="illegible" extent="1 word"></handwritten></p><p><stamped>APR 14 1931</stamped></p></div></back></text></tei2>