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BOUT thirty-four years ago there

was, in the city of Ghent, Belgium, a boy, the son of a poor shoemaker, who wanted to see the world. The longing finally became so strong that he left his native city and began wandering all over Europe, paying his way by working at odd jobs. He finally brought up in England, and for a while he worked on the London docks as a longshoreman.

Among all the wonders he saw in the foreign countries through which he passed nothing impressed him so much as the Rochdale co-operative societies, those English workingmen's clubs which owned and managed their own food stores to save their members the profits of the retailers. Even in those days millions of pounds were accumulated in the treasuries of these workingmen's organizations, only to be distributed at the end of each quarter as dividends or rebates on the purchases of the individual store members.

When the boy, Eduarde Anseele, returned to Ghent, some time afterwards, his mind was full of ideas suggested by the English co-operative stores. One evening he gave a talk before the weavers' union of Ghent, and after he had described the co-operative

movement in England he presented a proposition to the weavers wherein he suggested that they should bake their bread in common. But instead of frittering away the profits of the enterprise in penny dividends on purchases, he suggested that the greater part should be devoted to a collective insurance fund from which members might be helped in time of illness, unemployment, and other troubles incidental to a workingman's life.

Anseele presented his scheme so convincingly that the weavers advanced him a loan of two thousand francs, and with this initial capital he hired an oven and began baking bread for one hundred and fifty families. In this way the " Vooruit" was founded, in

1880.

The scheme was simple enough. Like the Rochdale societies, after whose pattern it was organized, the Vooruit Society carried on its business from the money advanced by its members in the form of membership fees, or shares. Each member was entitled to one vote in the control of the society's business, a board of directors being elected by them to carry it on. The bread was sold at the usual market price, and at the end of the quarter the profits could be returned to the

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purchasing bers, in proportion to their purchases, or otherwise disposed of, as the members themselves saw fit. But, unlike the Rochdale societies, the members of the Vooruit allowed the profits to accumulate and be used as a mutual benefit insurance fund.

From the very beginning the Vooruit prospered; at the end of the first year four hundred families had subscribed to the working capital and were getting their daily bread from their communal oven. The ma

jority probably did not understand the theory behind this peculiar enterprise, and supported it only because they were made to understand by their leaders that they were helping the labor movement in some vague way. The benefits were not immediately apparent, for the prices were just the same as in other bakeries. With each loaf of bread came a ticket. The housewife collected these tickets because her man told her to do so. At a certain time, at the end of the quarter, she must bring these tickets to the office of the society, in back of the bakery. But then would come her first lesson in the value of co-operation; she would learn that these tickets had the value of money in buying more bread. A little leaflet entitled " Why Marie should be a Co-operator" tried to explain in simple language why she was entitled to these free loaves; that they were not given in charity. But Marie needed experience to be convinced.

Then would come a period of trouble; her man was out of work, and it was a question whether this new bakery would extend credit as the little bakery in the cellar around the corner had done before. Ready cash was no longer available, yet every morning the dogcart from the Vooruit appeared as usual and left a loaf of bread at her doorstep. Then Marie's man found work again, and the

ciple until it covered all the necessities of life for everybody. They were Socialists. As Anseele expressed it, "We are bombarding the bourgeois citadel with loaves of bread.' And, of course, as the Church in Belgium is irrevocably bound to the political principles of the Conservative party, it could not assume a neutral attitude toward Anseele and his radical programme.

Here was Marie's first difficulty; to decide between her loyalty to the Church and the material benefits of the Vooruit. It was not only a question of faith. Nearly all of Marie's pleasures and those of the children were bound up with the Church. The parish priests organized their festivals and entertainments; while the men could go to the cafés, the women and children found all

the simple pleasures they could expect through the parish house.

"The priests have learned co-operation from us," said Anseele, when the Catholic baking societies began to appear; now we must learn from them. Without the women our bakery can never prosper. We, too, must give them music."

Shortly after, "Ons Huis" (Our House) was opened by the Vooruit-the first of those peculiar social centers famous in Belgium under the name "maison du peuple." Every tourist going through Belgium has seen the name.

But in those days Ons Huis attracted very little attention; it was a modest little clubhouse, rented from the profits of the bakery. Here the men could gather to read the