On arriving at the office I perceived signs that this is my last week here. I have criticised freely the whole system. Some one has certainly reported me. No work has been given me for the last few days. When they sent me anywhere it was only a pretence. As a matter of fact the re-investigation of Mrs. Erikson was also given to the "Terror." I will try to read her report.

I passed my forenoon near Cram's desk, in the basement. Cram is in excellent spirits to-day, and though very gross in his remarks he is not so brutal as usual. He cheers them up when they come to his desk.

"Hello, mother, what's the trouble? Come, come, don't cry—don't cry—it will be all right. Go home, we will attend to that."

For one extreme case of starvation he even recommended immediate relief. It's strange how the whole basement looks more cheerful. Why, even the sun has put in an appearance—hesitatingly, of course. He doubts whether He is wanted. Some broken rays play on the desk and on the face of some woman. When Cram is well disposed even the sun rejoices.

Most of the time was taken up by a stranded German actor and his wife. They were so elegantly dressed that we thought at first they were visitors, and Cram got up and politely asked them their wishes. The man speaks a broken English. He said they were actors and had been influenced to come from Germany on a bogus contract. They put up at a hotel and are now in debt there. Their baggage has been seized, they have no money, etc., etc. Cram offered them chairs and attended to them immediately. He put himself into communication with the Manager and with the Employment Office. Some one was sent to look for a furnished room, and another man was sent to the hotel to take out their baggage. Meanwhile the staff all came down to look at the unusual customers. They all respect and admire actors. Mrs. H. was exceedingly polite and nice, and even invited them to lunch. Of course the change affected the whole office. Every one spoke about them. Sam asked whether they were "real" actors. Only the "Terror" was suspicious. When they departed Cram shook hands with them and expressed his wish that they would soon be out of difficulty.

"Do not lose heart," he told the woman. "Such things might happen to any of us. Brace up, brace up." He was all smiles. I wonder what these people think of organised charity! The greatest blessing on earth, surely. If ever, in better times, they tell the story, they will emphasise everything. They were politely received, kindly treated, immediately helped, invited to lunch.

"Organised charity," they will say, "is the most beneficent thing of the century." All this because Cram was in good spirits to-day. If they had come yesterday, or if they were to come to-morrow, and find Cram in his usual humour. "An actor? You are an actor? And why don't you go to the actors? Who told you to put up at a hotel? Come to-morrow; we must investigate." They would have sat for hours and hours in the basement and heard how the others are treated. As it is, they are lucky people. Cram is in extremely good spirits to-day.

Meanwhile, all the others had to wait, but everything went smoothly. Most of the applications were accepted. Some were marked "urgent." The sun took courage and shone even brighter than before. "How sunny it is to-day," he said. Had this been so yesterday he would have turned round and questioned the sunbeams: "Where do you live? How old are you? How many children have you? What is your trade? You give light and warmth? You are a liar. I have never seen you here before. Go to your usual haunts. Tramp, vagabond, get out, get out of here." But to-day he is in good humour. What has happened? He asked my opinion several times, when dealing with a new case. He must have a beautiful voice. While studying an application he sang, mezza voce, the aria from Pagliacci. Why Pagliacci? I fancy because of the stranded actors. I told him to cultivate his God-given gift. He answered:

"Why? Can't I speak to the rabble with an uncultured voice?"

"But this is not the be all and end all of your life?"

"I am too poor for anything. Voice culture costs money."

How ridiculous it all sounded. I am sure from the way he comports himself with the applicants they think him a millionaire and that the money given comes from his pocket. Still, I was glad to hear him speak about his poverty. I tried to speak to him about the roughness of the investigators, but he is a closed book as to that.

"Severity is needed."

I was afraid to continue the conversation lest his good humour evaporate, so I changed the subject. All he wanted to talk about was women. Had the sun anything to do with that? The cashier, his sweetheart, came down to see him on business. A pretence. She teased him about the actor's wife and he let it go as if there was something in it.

"I invited her to lunch, you know," he said. What a liar. Mrs. H. invited them both, the actor and his wife.

I am going to see the Manager. It's settled. I am weary and worn. But I won't go until I have told him all I think of this rotten place.