“Come along,” said the lodger, “and have a beer.”  When Annie shook her head he exclaimed:  “Aw, yuh have to.  The Sullivans gets the room rent free, but the fellers upstairs has bar privileges, and yuh have to buy a beer off of ’em oncet in a while.  They’ve gotta get something out of it.”

I do not know whether Annie yielded then or later.  But ultimately she learned to drink beer for the benefit of philanthropists who furnish dance halls rent free, and also to quench a thirst rendered unbearable by heat and dust.  They seldom open the windows in these places.  Sometimes they even nail the windows down.  A well-ventilated room means poor business at the bar.

Annie Donnelly became a dance-hall habitue.  Not because she was viciously inclined; not because she was abnormal; but because she was decidedly normal in all her instincts and desires.

Besides, it is easy to get the dance-hall habit.  At almost every dance invitations to other dances are distributed with a lavish hand.  These invitations, on cheap printed cards, are scattered broadcast over chairs and benches, on the floors, and even on the bar itself.  They are locally known as “throw-aways.”  Here are a few specimens, from which you may form an idea of the quality of dance halls, and the kind of people—­almost the only kind of people—­who offer pleasure to the starved hearts of girls like Annie Donnelly.  These are actual invitations picked up in an East Side dance hall by the head worker of the New York College Settlement: 

     “Second annual reception and ball, given by Jibo and Jack, at New
     Starlight Hall, 143 Suffolk Street, December 25.  Music by our
     favorite.  Gents ticket 25 cents, Ladies 15 cents.”

     “Don’t miss the ball given by Joe the Greaser, and Sam Rosenstock,
     at Odd Fellows’ Hall, January 29th.”

     “See the Devil Dance at the Reception and Ball given by Max Pascal
     and Little Whity, at Tutonia Hall, Tuesday evening, November
     20th."

     _ “Reception and Ball given by two well known friends, Max Turk and
     Sam Lande, better known as Mechuch, at Appollo Hall, Chrystmas
     night.  Floor manager, Young Louis.  Ticket admit one 25 cents._”

In addition to these private affairs which are arranged purely for the profit of “Jibo and Jack” and their kind, men who make a living in this and in yet more unspeakable ways, there are hundreds of saloon dance halls, not only in New York, but in other cities.  These are simply annexes to drinking places, and people are not welcome there unless they drink.  No admission is charged.

There are also numberless dancing academies.  Dancing lessons are given four nights in the week, as a rule, and the dancing public buys admission the other three nights and on Sunday afternoons.  Some dancing academies, even in tenement house quarters, are reputable institutions, but to most of them the lowest of the low, both men and women, resort.  There, as in the dance halls, the “White Slaver” plies his trade, and the destroyer of womanliness lays his nets.