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GENERATION or so ago the foreigners who arrived at an American port were dumped almost indiscriminately upon the pier and left to shift for themselves as best they could-the young and innocent, the old and feeble, the pauper, the invalid, the woman, the child-all abandoned to the tender mercy of the boarding-house runner, the sharper, or the brute. Now all that has been changed. Partly out of self-defense against disease and pauperism, partly out of enlightened love for the human creature, however alien, the Republic, repenting its negligence, has undertaken to shut out the diseased, the incapable, and the criminal, to welcome the healthy and the self-reliant, and to afford some protection to all. In this undertaking the Government has the cooperation of a number of unofficial societies organized to aid the immigrant. One who wanted to see what the Government and the societies were doing, and how they were doing it, was, one drizzly day, a passenger on the ferryboat that runs from the Barge Office at the Battery to Ellis Island in New York Harbor.

Against the background of white, vaporish cloud floated long trails of black smoke from the steamers in the bay. From the upper deck of the ferryboat that was steadily throbbing her way to Ellis Island only the outlines of the buildings on the shore could be seen through the mist. To port and starboard puffed and tooted busy, impertinent, stocky little tugs. A shabby-genteel excursion steamer, trying to look aristocratic, but really looking very snobbish, passed by on her trip to Coney Island. Phlegmatic ferryboats, not in the least disturbed by the fine rain which was falling, paddled by in all directions. The grayness all around was broken only by occasional dabs of dirty brown and black. The monotony of the rhythmic swish of water and the recurrent thud of paddlewheels was broken only by the screech of one whistle or the baying of another. One could not help trying to fancy what the meaning of these sights and sounds might be to the immigrant who was getting his first real glimpse of America.

At a distance, apparently rising from the surface of the water in the middle of the

"A RED-HEADED WAITER LOOKED ON WITH A SMILE

harbor, were some grayish-looking buildings. As they came nearer into view they grew reddish. It was plain that they were of brick, with gray stone trimmings. They were very ugly. The treeless strip of land upon which, as it could now be seen, they rested was Ellis Island, the New York station of the United States Immigration Service under the Treasury Department. Towering high above these buildings, but on another island, separated by a narrow channel, stood the gigantic bronze Statue of Liberty. The greenishwhite verdigris that streaked the huge goddess bore witness to her indifference to weather as she symbolizes the freedom which the thousands who pass her shrine are seeking. When the ferryboat had at last entered the slip and was made fast, the passengers streamed out, many to greet relatives or acquaintances among the newly arrived.

On one side of a long passageway, divided in two by a high partition of iron latticework, some of these passengers from the ferryboat joined a group of respectable-looking men and women who were waiting to see their immigrant friends. On the other side a few made their way into the building. The first impression which every visitor to Ellis Island must receive is of the surprising cleanliness and good ventilation. The height of the ceilings and the number of large windows account for the good ventilation; and the statement, made on the authority of the Deputy Commissioner, that the floors-apparently of concreteare washed from two to five times a day accounts for the cleanliness. If the first building which the immigrant encounters after landing is not beautiful, it is at least clean. At the end of the passageway is a sort of transept in which is what seemed to be a labyrinth of iron latticework and railings. At one end, near some benches, and seated at work at a desk, was a representative of the Society for the Protection of Italian Immigrants. From his first word of greeting to the end, as he acted as guide and interpreter in conversations with the immigrants, he gave evidence of an unaffected personal care for the individual difficulties and needs with which he had to deal that human feeling which the King James Version calls "charity." Indeed, it was amazing to see how, in spite

of the routine that is necessary in managing hundreds and sometimes thousands every day, each official seemed actuated by the human more than the professional motive. The visitor to Ellis Island would have to be of very callous heart not to be conscious of the real tenderness with which helplessness is there treated.

In a room reserved for the use of certain officials a woman sat alone with a little baby in her arms. Her face, somewhat pale, was sensitive, but very placid. She had been brought there in order to be away from the noise and confusion of the other rooms. This is her story:

In December she had arrived alone, her husband-following a not uncommon custom-remaining in Italy to wind up his affairs before emigrating. She did what Italian women rarely do-she became a domestic servant. When it came time, however, for her child to be born, she had no place where she could go. As she was an alien, no hospital could give her room. In this predicament the society for aiding immigrants was her good angel. It is the rule that an immigrant remains technically an immigrant for one year after arrival. So she was entitled either to transportation back to Italy at the expense of the steamship company or to care at the hospital on Ellis Island. It was arranged that she should be cared for. On territory of the Federal Government, therefore, and on the Fourth of July, as it happened, the boy was born, a native American citizen, though, according to the laws of the Kingdom of Italy, a subject of his father's sovereign and liable to military duty in his father's country. The days had gone by, and now the mother was waiting, with this little international paradox in her arms, for the arrival of friends who were to take her to their home.

In an adjoining room were a number of men and boys temporarily detained until their friends could be heard from. When the door was opened, they crowded forward. Several of them showed in their faces their eager expectation of some news. Others were apparently just idly inquisitive. A few in the background were stolid and indifferent. They were all equally ingenuous in the expression of their emotion. Their stolidity was very stolid, their eagerness frankly eager.