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The Island of Faith
By MARGARET E. SANGSTER
1921
To M's M and Chance
Contents
There is a certain section of New York that is bounded upon the north byFourteenth Street, upon the south by Delancy. Folk who dwell in it seldomstray farther west than the Bowery, rarely cross the river that flowssluggishly on its eastern border. They live their lives out, withsomething that might be termed a feverish stolidity, in the dim crowdedflats, and upon the thronged streets.
To the people who have homes on Central Park West, to the frail wingedmoths who flutter up and down Broadway, this section does not exist. Itspoor are not the picturesque poor of the city's Latin quarter, itscriminals seldom win to the notoriety of a front page and inch-highheadlines; it almost never produces a genius for the world to smileupon—its talent does not often break away from the undefined, but nonethe less certain, limits of the district.
It is curious that this part of town is seldom featured in song or story,for it is certainly neither dull nor unproductive of plot. The tenementsthat loom, canyon-like, upon every side are filled to overflowing withhuman drama; and the stilted little parks are so teeming with romances,of a summer night, that only the book of the ages would be big enough tohold them—were they written out! Life beats, like some great wave, upthe dim alleyways—it breaks, in a shattered tide, against rock-likedoorways. The music of a street band, strangely sweet despite itsshrillness, rises triumphantly above the tumult of pavement vendors, thecrying of babies, the shouting of small boys, and the monotonous voicesof the womenfolk.
In almost the exact center of this district is the Settlement House—abrown building that is tall and curiously friendly. Between a greathive-like dwelling place and a noisy dance-hall it stands valiantly, likethe soldier of God that it is! And through its wide-open doorway come andgo the girls who will gladly squander a week's wage for a bit of satin ora velvet hat; the shabby, dull-eyed women who, two years before, werecare-free girls themselves; the dreamers—and the ones who have neverlearned to dream. For there is something about the Settlement House—andabout the tiny group of earnest people who are the heart of theSettlement House—that is like