instincts are the whisperings of the gods.”
A Maxim of Hong Yo.
A Maxim of Hong Yo.Steele Kenyon found the Girls’ Club without a great deal of trouble. It was a new and solid-looking building and from top to bottom every window gleamed with lights. He made inquiries of a sergeant of police who happened along upon his round of inspection. The sergeant was a ruddy-faced, white-haired man with the hale look of that type of old New Yorker whose reminiscences never went above Canal Street.
“That club,” said the silver-haired sergeant, “is one of the finest things in the city; and the women who carry it on deserve every kind of credit. You know how girls are brought up in some parts of the East Side; they don’t get any kind of training; they are not taught to do any useful work in their homes
