All these, of course, are forms of baptism by soap and water.
Our neighborhood went in search of salvation to Morgan Memorial Hall, Barnard Memorial, Morgan Chapel aforementioned, and some other clean places that lighted a candle in their window.

My brother, my sister Dora, and I were introduced to some of the clubs by our young neighbors, and we were glad to go.

For our home also gave us little besides meals in the kitchen and beds in the dark.

What with the six of us, and the store, and the baby, and sometimes a "greener" or two from Polotzk, whom we lodged as a matter of course till they found a permanent home--what with such a company and the size of our tenement, we needed to get out almost as much as our neighbors' children.

I say almost; for our parlor we managed to keep pretty clear, and the lamp on our centre table was always in order, and its light fell often on an open book.