Produced by David Edwards and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive.) To my little ones, who, as I lay down my pen, come rushing in from the autumn fields, their hands filled with flowers "for the poor children," I inscribe this book. May the love that shines in their eager eyes never grow cold within them; then they shall yet grow up to give a helping hand in working out this problem which so plagues the world to-day. As to their father's share, it has been a very small and simple one, and now it is done. Other hands may carry forward the work. My aim has been to gather the fact…
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