THE MOVEMENT FOR VACATION SCHOOLS.
MARCHING TO THE FARM
^HERE is an old-fashioned notion that pictures vacation as a period of relaxing all the restraining discipline of the school year — a time when the whole being can stretch itself, as it were, and attain fuller proportions by doing as it listeth, running about in green fields, chasing butterfly, or bird, or bumblebee, climbing trees and wading brooks, or browsing in pure animal enjoyment.
The growth of our large cities, with the consequent crowding of population, has changed all this, and what grass there is no longer invites the tripping feet, but sternly warns "keep off!" Birds and butterflies have fled to the parks, too distant for the child to follow ; and the buzz of bees is replaced by the gong of the electric-car Moloch, claiming the street for his own, and sacri- ficing all who may dispute his sovereignty.
So vacation now brings with it something of worry and trouble, even to the well-to-do who make every provision to occupy and safeguard their children — plan country visits or excursions, picnics and parties, supply toys and games and books, and, when the vacation is over, send the children back to school with a sigh of satisfaction that nothing has happened, and that eternal question, "Mamma, what shall I do next?" will not now be heard.
But for the children of the poor the close of the school year opens a period fraught with special danger and difficulty. Liv- ing in crowded tenements, where often kitchen and living room
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