There was gloom along the dingy staircase leading up over the grocery, and gloom in the drab corridor outside the apartment. But the Philadelphia reporter who climbed the stairs last week to pay a call on William Baird and his family found no gloom inside. Mrs. Baird had put some pork on for dinner. Her sons stood cheerful guard on the preparations as she called out, "Better watch that stuff or it'll burn up." One son, Robert, 20, could not walk, but he was as cheerful as the rest.
As the dinner arrangements went forward, there was no sign that Robert and...
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