A LONDON PLAY CENTRE.

Dominion, Volume 1, Issue 81, 30 December 1907, Page 3

A LONDON PLAY CENTRE.

I may say (writes Harold Blind .in the London "Daily, Mail")"that' a play-centre means. tho. opening of an elementary seliool buildirig.ahd playgrounds fivenights a week, and on Saturday mornings, to the neighbouring for play and recreation a'ftei school , hours. Ten .of theso are already established in the poorer quarters.of London. It was the girls evening at'Latimcr'Road School.' A piano'was • rattling off a march. 1 came to a corridor,. and through a glass door, at the'end I heard the tread of feet. A, clear [voice rang, "Haiti" ■ I opened the door. A rank of ragged girls of all sizes and in every kind of "looped and windowed" clothing were standing to'attention. ' - v ; . But it was the sergeant wiio took one's breath away. - r Sho - : %as v 'tho "'Straightost-' legged, squarcst-shouldered girl. Moreover,' she was dark and pretty,' 1 and Tapped' out order's in- an educated, disinterested voice, for all the world like a ' subaltern; of the Guards. • f .;.,.... : Wlien I caught lier eye she swung across to me. with, a flap of kilt.' She looked me fearlessly between the eyes, and when I, rather, embarrassed, told. her. my business, she turned on her heel .with another whisk of her little skirt, and ordered:, "Polly! Take this card to, Mrs. Springer I"—then, "Right , dress I ' Steady. . . . ,'Eycs front!" ' .'. ' ... Mrs. Springer was taking a knitting class, assisted Iby her two'little daughters. She told rae that most of the mothers in Notting Dale and the district work in the laundries, and do not.gctjio.me till fairly late in tlie evening. That, in consequence, the children "would to roam the streets if the "centre" did not shelter them till they could get in. It'was a'common thing, sho said,' to hear, "Father's iii prisoir and mother's out at work!" . . /' ' . One instance she gave of a widow with ten, children.,' The eldest is but twelve years old. The father died crippled with rheumatism. Tho mother supports them by charing and laundry work. She really tries to keep the children clean and tidy. . One would never, think that her little girls oamo.from.a homo where constant hunger and abject poverty sat. grinning at their table, at every scanty meal. •We went to. the room whero they were drawing and, painting. The girls talk and examine each other's work, and do just as they, please.; For this is Play 1 That must bo borne in' mind. , I heard how they played all. kinds of old English games. Lubin-Lu; Wall-flowers, London Bridge, Gats and Mice, BobbyBingo, and all the familiar games of our own .childhood. The boys can learn a trade if they like. .... Here,in the .play-room was a cupboard filled with a big stack of dolls, which the children clothe themselves and then dress and undress. One of them said to mo, "Look, sir! My dolly's got stays!" and insisted upon showing me the article in question: ■ I Besides the -dolls , there is every conceivable, kind of game and toy that can delight the' youngsters. "Miss Rowc I Miss Rowe, can I have Nita?" ."Please give me Belie. We wants to play mothers and father,s. Give us the tea-things for dolly." ' / _ The slender artist, with the keen,. sensitive face, who had been drawing Cinderella on tho blackboard, wont about with her arms .full of toys, which the little ones snatched eagerly from her hands., Once,, as she. bent over to catch a whispered question, she smiled. It seemed to me, standing in that bare schoolroom filled with poor children—it seemed as if I had caught a glimpse, of some splendid flower, that, for a moment, Imado the room bright l and beautiful —as flowers do. She told mo she was very fond of children. Some of theso wore delicate, with a kind of exotic beauty;' wide, brilliant eyes set in the pinched faces. The faces were pretty and ' well-featured now . . . but see them after twenty years! After, twenty years, when, if'all was right, they should be in tho pride and health and splondour of full womanhood. - ' . The children are nearly all half-starved. If tho "play-centre" did not exist, they would be wandering in tho gutters—in tho filth, tho wet, the cold, the -unutterably ugly and abominable bestiality of the slums. . The drill class was standing in line. The little sergeant stood erect before, them—a typical clean-run English girl from our elite, tho* upper middle/class. Thero were tho children of the streets—a ragged line indeed. No sound shoes, scarcely clad at . all. "Advance —by tho right—march!" The piano began an American quickstep full of youth and fire and vim. The line of the children swept steadily across the room, led by this straight-limbed girl. The ragged ranks. of tho ragged children aro marching. Whither? They are tho mothers and the fathers of the future. They are half-hungry. They aro ill-clad. Their little ailments are allowed to become incurable diseases. ".Vdvancjj—march I Left — right — left — right.-. . -i!" ' Whither? I took my.:hat off to the little sergeant. . The tramp—tramp of the children's marching feet pursued me down the dark stairs. They strode to the strains of "Land of,Hopo and Glory. . .