=Sanitation.=—­One of the chief variants of the general subject of physiology and hygiene is sanitation, and this, even yet, affords a field for aggressive and constructive patriotism.  Grime and crime go hand in hand; but, as a people, we have been somewhat slow in our recognition of this patent truth.  Patriotism as well as charity should begin at home, and the man who professes a love for his country should make that part of his country which he calls his home so sanitary and so attractive that it will attest the sincerity of his profession.  If he loves his country sincerely, he must love his back yard, and what he really loves he will care for.  It does him no credit to have the flag floating above a home that proclaims his shiftlessness.  His feeling for sanitation, attractiveness, and right conditions as touching his own home surroundings will expand until it includes his neighborhood, his county, his State, and his entire country.

=A typical patriot.=—­A typical patriot is the busy, intelligent, frugal, cultured housewife whose home is her kingdom and who uses her powers to make that kingdom glorious.  She regrets neither the time nor the effort that is required to make her home clean, artistic, and comfortable.  She places upon it the stamp of her character, industry, and good taste.  She supplies it with things that delight the senses and point the way to culture.  To such a home the crude and the bizarre are a profanation.  She administers her home as a sacred trust in the interests of her family and never for exhibition purposes.  Her home is an expression of herself, and her children will carry into life the standards that she inculcates through the agency of the home.  Life is better for the family and for the community because her home is what it is, and, in consequence, her patriotism is far-reaching in its influence.  If all homes were such as this, our country would be exploited as representing the highest plane of civilization the world has yet attained.  The vitalized teacher is constantly striving to have this standard of home and home life become the standard of her pupils.

=Mulberry Bend.=—­In striking contrast with this home are conditions in Mulberry Bend, New York, as described by a writer thoroughly conversant with conditions as they were until recently—­conditions, however, now much bettered:  “These alleys, running from nowhere to nowhere, alongside cellars where the light never enters and where nothing can live but beast-men and beast-women and rats; behind foul rookeries where skulk the murderer and the abandoned tramp; beside hideous plague-spots where the stench is overpowering—­Bottle Alley, where the rag-pickers pile their bags of stinking stuff, and the Whyo Roost where evil-visaged beings prowl about, hunting for prey; dozens of alleys winding in and out and intersecting, so that the beast may slay his prey, and hide in the jungle, and be safe; these foul alleys—­who shall picture them, or explore