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this end. The Association is now promoting vocational guidance in school and community. It is seeking to fit round pegs into round holes.
At one time, the social program of the Y. M. C. A. consisted in creating a social atmosphere in the building and supplying wholesome entertainment and recreation. This part of the social program has not decreased, but, rather, is being multiplied many fold. However, the Association has awakened to the fact that it is not sociability alone, but society that is involved in its social program. One Association expressed this idea by conducting a summer non-equipment type of Association work in twenty different industrial centers, giving athletic, social and moral emphasis, but more than that, calling into its program every agency which was interested in phases of community life.
The Legal Aid Society taught industrial people, and foreigners in particular, what they ought to know about American laws and customs. The Pure Milk and Ice Association gave lectures to mothers of children, and supplied life-saving materials. The Associated Charities sent visiting nurses with helpful propaganda. The Playground Association used vacant lots which had been cleared by the boys of the community. The Y. M. C. A. conducted twilight games, gave moving picture and stereopticon lectures in the evenings with attendance running into hundreds of thousands.
They covered in the range of this program, disease prevention, health promotion, thrift, patriotism, child welfare, higher standards of home life, and the great fundamental virtues which are, after all, their own reward. At the noon hour in shops and factories in scores of large cities tens of thousands of men get their first real revelation of what play means. In the City of San Francisco groups like this can be seen playing volleyball, indoor baseball, and other games during the half hour of the noon luncheon period, thus creating an appetite for wholesome recreation.
In other words this wider vision finds exercise while the Young Men's Christian Association with its investment of $125,000,000 in great buildings in the United States, is reaching countless thousands of men at a time when they need it most. At the San Francisco Association, for instance, every fourteen seconds of each tenhour day a young man or boy with a purpose enters the doors of its Golden Gate Avenue building. This is only what happens in practically every city of any consequence in America. Many of these men come to meet an emergency in their own lives. The Association seeks to meet the emergency in the wisest possible manner, through educational classes, recreational activities, social environment, entertainments and moral and spiritual stimulus. It goes further than this and seeks to place within the purview of the people of the community the great need of preventive measures, through instruction given to the adolescent, through parent training, and by a vision of the revolutionary need of child welfare.
The "Y" has taken the far view in its boys work program. Gladstone said: "As go the colleges, sq-goes the nation." The Y. M. C. A. has said: "As go the high schools, so go the colleges." The "Hy Y" movement of the Young Men's Christian Association and the American Standard Program for Boys are being recognized as the most constructive programs for physical, social, moral, and spiritual development that the country has ever seen. Many high schools have been transformed by the "Hy Y" movement which is made up of self-governing groups of high school boys with high purposes and ambitions for themselves and their associates.
In like fashion the student movement in the colleges and universities takes into consideration the multiplied influence of the college graduate. It also takes into consideration that intellectual development alone may make of a man only a clever devil. For many years the student
Would you know the kind host in the house of delight?
With a garden, where amethyst moss fringes beds
And where millions of blossoms lift proudly their heads. There are mansions, yes many, as herein portrayed With gardens and columns which money has made.
But the house of delight among these is not found.
Search you well for a sprinkling of meal o'er the ground.
Now this brings to your mind little knowledge, I trow,
So the curtain I'll lift, that this house you may know.
Arizona, the house of delight's blessed home;
The fair "City Eternal," past whose gates we roam
Are the hosts? Is the house of delights but a hut?
0, my friend, of what joke have you made me the butt?"
Sit you down, I'll explain; see that Navajo there?
His hut rude? It is founded on song and on prayer. He a heathen? God grant that a heathen I be,
If this home is a heathen abode which we see.
There was never house builded, with incense as sweet
From the felling of log, to the kindling of fire,
"To the East, to the North, to the South, to the West,
I now scatter this meal that peace here may find rest.
Who seeks here a shelter from sun or from storm.
May this house be delightful for children unborn.
Every figure on basket or blanket speaks rare
0, brave Navajo Indian, come build me a home
And pray bless with your meal, that Love's peace shall not roam. And O, Navajo Chieftain, come teach me the art Of just building for love; that each arrow and dart
Shall be sent forth all white and all quivering with peace;
That my house be delightful; that love may increase.
Forgive me for treading where daring fools tread.
Here the angels step softly, their white wings outspread,
Arizona, no marvel thy skys are so blue,
No wonder thy atmosphere's fresh as the dew.
irrnjE came upon it unexpectedly— 111 J that ranger's cabin in the heart of the Oregon Sierras. Riding back to camp after a morning's hunt my Indian guide and I were making our way down a heavily-wooded hill, when suddenly the timber gave way and before us was a level meadow, eight or ten acres in extent, on the edge of which was the cabin.
Smoke was coming from the chimney and even at that distance I had a feeling that a woman lived there. I guessed it by the flower-bordered walk, by the dainty window curtains tied with ribbon, and, more than all else, by an indefinable home-like air about the place that only the delicate touches of a woman's hand may give.
We were about to ride by, for it was nearly noon, when the cabin door opened and a man stepped out and
hailed us. He was about thirty, dressed in the regulation uniform of a ranger, his lean face bronzed and hardened by wind and sun.
"Light and look at your saddle," he called, holding open the gate.
As he stood there, I read hunger in the man's eyes—the hunger of one long denied comradeship with his kind.
"Get down, both of you," he insisted. "It's about dinner time. And, say," he went on eagerly, detecting my momentary hesitation, "how would fresh venison and gravy, muffins and home-made jam and coffee with real cream strike you?"
"It strikes me below the belt," I answered. And I signed the Indian to put up the horses.
The ranger led the way to the house, opened the door, a boyish grin