CHAPTER XXVII.

SUMMER COLONIES FOR CITY PEOPLE.

The people of Berlin have the reputation of being prone to boasting of their city. They share this tendency, however, with the inhabitants of all large cities. Local patriotism is not at all a reprehensible quality, for it is apt to engender a desire for improvements which will be of benefit to strangers as well as to residents. Still, it can not be said that Berlin has been boastful of a new sociological feature it has developed within the last few years, a feature so revolutionary in its bearing upon education and upon the general health of future generations, that it is worthy of being made known to the world. It may not be the innate modesty of the citizens of Berlin which accounts for the circumstance that as yet little has been said about this new agency. It may rather be the fact that it is not a governmental institution, but the result of self-help, of recognition of a plain necessity, of the spirit of self-government, and of a socialistic tendency or cooperative spirit that strongly characterizes the people of Germany. It may be assumed that if the new plan of summer colonies for the great majority of the poor had been instituted by the Government it would not have succeeded as well as it has, for the average citizen of Berlin is prone to criticise all governmental efforts. Berlin is entitled to the credit of having produced original ideas in public education. Compulsory school attendance became a State institution in Germany only after it had been thoroughly tested in the Prussian capital; Realschulen became popular after Berlin had set the example by the establishment of such schools; Pestalozzian principles and practices, introduced through the agency of Queen Louisa, were first applied in Berlin; Prussian normal school reorganization became possible only through Diesterweg's work in Berlin; trade schools and similar institutions for the technical advancement of laborers in Germany have their prototypes in Berlin. And not only original ideas are there brought out, but ideas from outside are welcomed in a most cordial manner, particularly in the public schools, the schools of the great majority of the people. Thus, for instance, the teachers of the public schools maintain, aided by the city government, a splendid school museum, which provides the schools every week with appliances for teaching.

Before the new method of caring for children in large numbers during the summer is explained, it will be well to refer to an incident of more than thirtyfive years ago. It had been the common observation of primary teachers in Berlin that young children just entering school were lacking conceptions of common natural phenomena, such as the rising sun, the moon, thunderstorms, etc., hence that the work in school became increasingly difficult as the city grew larger and the children of the tenements were further and further removed from mother nature. To determine the extent of this poverty of conceptions or ideas, an original investigation of the contents of the children's minds on entering school was instituted by the public school teachers of the city. The results of this investigation, carefully tabulated, were published in the Berliner Jahrbuch of 1870. An English version appeared in the Annual Report of this Bureau of 1901 (pp. 709-730).

A few items of that report may here be inserted to show that the teachers' complaints were well founded: Of 10,000 children entering school at 6 years of age only 1,640 had seen a huckleberry bush; only 2,078 had seen a lake; only 2,364 knew what dew is; only 2,466 could recognize a rabbit; only 2,636 had seen plowing; only 3,052 had seen the sun rise; only 3,646 had seen the woods; only 4,750 recognized a snail; only 5,085 knew a frog when they saw it; only 6,028 had seen a butterfly; only 7,770 had seen a rainbow. This proved a poverty of ideas which seriously hampered the instruction of the primary teachers, who naturally relied upon a certain stock of early impressions and concepts on which to base their language lessons.

This comprehensive investigation has been frequently adduced in urging the necessity of nature study. During the course of pedagogical and psychological discussions in many countries arguments have been based upon the results of the Berlin investigation, and upon those of many similar ones undertaken since then in Germany and in this country. The teachers, seeing that the horizon of their pupils was limited by brick and mortar (for open park spaces are rare in Berlin), came to the conclusion that only by giving their pupils opportunity to live in the open air could they succeed in laying a sound substratum of knowledge of natural objects and phenomena as a basis for subsequent school studies. The teachers of themselves, however, could succeed only in applying palliative remedies, such as having sent to them, on application to the botanical gardens, thousands of specimens of plants, twigs, flowers, fruit, etc., for nature study in the schoolroom; planting flower beds around the schoolhouses; also, brief excursions into parks and hanging up before the class colored pictures of landscapes and rural scenery.

While in many cases, especially in large cities, the necessity was recognized of getting the children out of the great desert of brick and mortar into the open air and into intimate companionship with life in the field, the garden, the woods, and the brook, it had nowhere resulted in a systematic effort to aid the children of an entire city in that way until it was tried in Berlin. Of course it is well understood, not only abroad, but in New York and in other large cities of this country, that something must be done to alleviate the detrimental influence of want of fresh air and space, and so recreation piers and roof gardens are provided, excursions of schools into parks are undertaken, open-air playgrounds are instituted, and similar efforts are made tending to alleviate the evil effects of life in a city; but all these efforts are merely sporadic, temporary, or unsystematic; they do not cure the evil at the roots; moreover, they are only drops in the bucket when compared with what seems necessary. Now, if we consider that there are hundreds of thousands of children in Berlin, it would seem an impossibility to take them all, or even a majority of them, into the open air outside the city, be it only for a few hours a day—yet the Berlin people succeeded in doing this. Naturally, the teachers' influence alone was inadequate to convince the public and the authorities of the necessity of decisive measures. Stronger inducements were needed to bring about appropriate action. First, the school physicians (of whom there are 36 in Berlin), followed by others of the profession, added their influence to that of the teachers in the press and in the deliberations of the city council, but instead of the intellectual, they emphasized the physical deterioration of children. When the decrease of the birth rate and the lamentably high death rate of children became marked, the health authorities began to move in the direction suggested by the teachers. But when finally it was shown by unmistakable evidence from the statistics of crime that juvenile criminality in Berlin increased out of all proportion to the increase of criminality in general, the appeal for relief became urgent.

Perhaps it is not generally known that the city of Berlin has in its governmental relations a tendency to adopt socialistic measures, but certainly, compared with our American cities, it may be said to be a notable example of ownership of public utilities "by the people and for the people." This tendency to cooperation and collective action has resulted in this particular case in so brilliant a result that the most determined antisocialist must duly appreciate the children's thousands of arbor gardens round about the city. It is an experiment "en gros" which we see in Berlin, one of such dimensions that cavil ceases and admiration rises supreme.

Parents were induced to rent, at a nominal price of 4 marks ($1), or about 20 to 25 cents a month, for the whole summer season, a patch of land in the suburbs of Berlin, available for the purpose in view, but unfit for farm land because cut up by railroad tracks and newly laid-out streets. On one of these patches a family might erect an arbor, or a small structure of boards with a wide veranda and a corrugated iron roof, for housing themselves and children during the summer months. Fences were built of wire so as to keep the different plots apart. On these patches the children, under guidance of teachers, parents, and appointed guardians began to sow seeds, plant shrubs, vines, and trees, or raise kitchen vegetables, each group or family according to its own desires and needs. Since the "arbors" are small they do not decrease the arable land of the allotments much, and there is still room enough left for swings, gymnastic apparatus, and similar contrivances, as well as bare sandy spots for little tots to play in. The various allotments are mostly uniform in size, and can be reached by narrow 3 or 4 foot lanes, on which occasionally are seen probationary officers or guardians who keep the peace and settle cases of disturbance.

The "arbor gardens" are established on every square rod of unused land round about the city, between railroads, on vacant lots, far out to the borders of the well-trained woods and royal forests. Small tradesmen, laboring men, civil officials of low degree, etc., have found it profitable to forsake their tene ments in the city and move kith and kin into these "arbor colonies." The dwellings they erect are of the most primitive kind and rather flimsy; no permanent structure can be allowed to the tenant, for at any time the owner of the land may give notice to vacate for the purpose of erecting a row of houses, railroad buildings, or other permanent structures.

Not all of these arbor gardens are occupied by families during the night. Thousands return to their city homes for the night. Some parents, unable to free themselves from duties in town, send their children under guidance of servants, and spend only Sundays and holidays with them.

The people, especially the children, getting some information concerning the treatment of the crops from competent advisers in school and out in the arbor colonies, derive a great deal of good from their horticultural and floricultural work. Families who are æsthetically inclined devote their space to flowers and trailing vines exclusively; others, utilitarians from necessity, plant potatoes, carrots, turnips, beets, beans, strawberries, and the like. The feeling of ownership being strongly developed in the children in witnessing the results of their own labor, the crops are respected by the neighbors and pilfering rarely occurs, except perhaps in a case of great hunger. Her Majesty the Empress visited some of the arbor colonies last year, and was so delighted with what she saw, with the thrift, the happiness, and the health of the "colonists," young and old, that she ordered the gardeners of the royal and imperial gardens to send thirty healthy strawberry plants and a variety of flower seeds to each of the little colonists who signified his or her willingness to accept t gift. This may be the reason for the abundance of strawberries this year the arbor colonies.

Several hundreds or a thousand of such patches of land, or gardens, situated in close proximity to each other, and separated only by wire fences and narrow lanes, form an arbor colony, which has a governor, or mayor, who is an unpaid city official. He arranges the leasing of the ground, collects the rents, and hands them over to the owners of the land. There is always a retired merchant or civil officer who is public-spirited enough to accept the office, to which is attached neither special honor, title, nor emolument. He is assisted by a "colonial committee" of trustees selected from the colonists who act as justices of the peace, in case disturbances should arise. Colonists who prove frequent disturbers of the peace or are found incapable of living quietly are stricken from the list of that particular community or colony, and their leases are not renewed. Of course there are such cases, but they are rare.

Since the size of an arbor garden is from 20 to 30 square rods, those forming a colony collectively make a considerable community, in which the authority of the committee, or beard of trustees, is absolute, and the very few cases they have had to adjudicate have almost invariably been caused by a few women of nagging dispositions. Such persons are gradually weeded out. It is publicly claimed in the press that these colonies are literally without scandals, and that the life led by young and old is a most peaceful and happy one. This is easily explained: People who are hard at work are not likely to be quarrelsome; good wholesome food, much exercise in the form of play and labor, and an abundance of fresh air and sunshine are conducive to happiness, especially as the clothing may be of a primitive kind, or need not conform to the dictates of fashion.

A Berlin teacher remarked: "It is noticeable that since these school children are engaged in lucrative work which does not go beyond their strength, and since they perceive with their own eyes the results of their labor, a sense of responsibility is engendered which has a beneficial influence upon school work also. Respect for all kinds of labor and a perceptible decrease in the destructiveness so often found among boys are unmistakable effects of the labor in arbor gardens. It is not easy work which the children are performing, for spade and rake require muscular effort; but it is ennobling work, for it leads to self-respect, self-dependence, and self-reliance, also respect for others, as well as willingness to aid others. The most beautiful sight is afforded when, on a certain date agreed on by all the members of a colony, a harvest festival is held. Then flag raisings and illuminations and, as a matter of course, singing and music, make the day a memorable one.”

It was well understood that many thousands of families had not the means to buy the lumber and hardware to erect an “arbor," and yet they were the very ones to whom the life in the open would be of the greatest benefit. Hence philanthropy stepped in and erected the structures. The Patriotic Woman's League of the Red Cross built half of all the arbors of the colony found on the "Jungfernheide." Many colonies reach into the woods, and naturally are of a different character from those in the open, for there tents are used instead of wooden structures. Everywhere the colonist must fence in his allotted land himself, which is done in the simplest manner, by means of a few posts and a few lengths of wire; some plant living hedges. For protection during the night a number of watchmen pace up and down the lanes; this entails a cost of 74 cents a month to each family. The season lasts five months, from May 1 to October 1.

The school-going population meanwhile attend their schools, which can be reached by means of the elevated cars or surface tramways for 2 cents, and much cheaper if they have commuters' tickets. Many schools are near enough to be reached on foot. The children do not loiter on the way, but when school

is out they hurry "home" to begin work in the garden, or to sit down to a meal on the veranda, which under the benign influence of sunshine and fresh air is relished more than a meal taken in a city tenement house filled with fetid air and wanting in light. Nearly every one of these gardens has a flag pole, at the head of which flutters a small German national flag, and at night a Japanese paper lantern with a tallow dip in it illuminates the veranda. Flags by day and lanterns at night give the colony a festive appearance. The teachers find that city children who spend five months in the open air are well equipped with elementary ideas in physical geography and astronomy. Their mental equipment is better, indeed, in all fields of thought, their physical health is improved, and their ethical motives and conduct are purer than they were in former years.

To realize fully the extent of these wholesale efforts in behalf of the phys ical, the intellectual, and the moral health of youth (for put children into close contact with nature and they will improve in all directions), it is well to take a ride on the North belt line (elevated steam railroad), the trains of which start from the Friedrich's street depot and bring one back to it after a ride of an hour and a half. Then one may do the same on the South belt line. On these two trips one will see, not hundreds, but tens of thousands of such “arbor gardens" as have been described, full of happy women and children at work or play. The men come out on the belt line when their work in town is done. The writer was riding through the city in an open cab, and seeing hardly any children on the streets and in the parks, he asked, “How is it that we see no children out?" "Ah, sir," was the reply, "if you will see the children of Berlin you must go out to the arbor colonies outside of the city. There is where our children are." Subsequent visits to these colony gardens showed that Berlin is by no means a childless city. To judge from the multitudinous arbors to be seen from the windows of the belt line cars there must be about 50,000 of them. As far as the eye reaches the flag poles and the orderly fences and the little structures can be seen; and since the city has 2,000,000 inhabitants, it is very likely that an estimate of several hundred thousands of children thus living in the open air, an estimate made by a city official, is not excessive. The most beautiful and best arranged gardens are not found in the vicinity of railroads, but several miles out toward the north and the south of the city. Here, where the soil is better, fine crops are raised.

If we turn our eyes homeward and contemplate the many thousands of small efforts made in this country toward the alleviation of city children's misery, we can say truthfully that we in America are perhaps fully alive to the necessity which has prompted the people of Berlin to action; we only need to be reminded of Mayor Pingres, of Detroit, and his potato patches on empty city lots, our children's outing camps, our occasional children's excursions, and the like. Still, there is nothing in this country to compare with the thousands of Berlin arbor gardens and their singularly convincing force; they challenge admiration for the spirit of combined action which animates the inhabitants of Berlin.

The arbor gardens of Berlin should not be mistaken for the numerous "forest schools" (Waldschulen) in Germany, respecting which the press has contained accounts lately. These schools "in the woods" are for sickly children, both physically crippled and mentally weak. The pupils have their lessons in the open, and the teachers live, play, and work with them; long recesses separate the various lessons, and a two-hour nap in the middle of the day out in the open is on the time-table of every one of these forest schools. These special open-air schools for weaklings and defectives are now found in many parts of