CHAPTER I.On the corner of one of the principal thoroughfares, in a very large city, there was located, fifteen years ago, a small grocery store. In front of the building the enterprising owner displayed fruits, vegetables and other goods; articles that were particularly tempting to boys.In a near-by cottage there lived a very bright boy, twelve years of age, and familiarly known to every one in the neighborhood, as Jimmy, the newsboy. And that meant a bad boy.On the disappearance of an occasional apple, an orange, or if one of the fruit-stands was upset, it was declared that Jimmy did it. All fights around the corner originated from Jimmy.So bad was this boy’s reputation that every one in the ward, including several Sunday-school teachers, was kept busy looking for a favorable opportunity to give Jimmy, what they thought he deserved, “a good licking.”The groceryman was not slow in letting his customers know how bad Jimmy was.He was kicked, lectured, preached to, and a dozen times a day was pushed off the corner.He was abused because he annoyed men and women by his misbehavior.No one ever stopped to ask this boy where he lived; what about his parents, his home life, or to see if there was really any good in him worth trying to develop. The bad was visible, and the people seemed to delight in their vain efforts to correct him by censures and kicks.There was no question about Jimmy being bad, about as bad as any street-boy would become who had his own way, and, whose parents permitted him to go and come when he pleased, and to associate with bad company, particularly boys older than he was.Jimmy was a leader of a gang of little toughs who always met at the corner, in the evenings, and delighted in making it unpleasant for those who lived within hearing distance. He was strong, quick, and could throw to the ground any boy of his size, and never hesitated trying a much larger boy. He was the terror of the corners.Yet with all his bad reputation, no one ever caught him doing anything for which he could be punished under the state laws.Circumstantial evidence was all the groceryman could produce at any time he was accused. The boy who “squealed” to the groceryman about Jimmy had to remain away from the corner until he thought that Jimmy had forgotten it.Jimmy was a typical newsboy.He was not happy in fine clothes. He did not use the many slang phrases which so frequently become a part of a street-boy’s life and enjoyment, but he had everything else.He had a small route, perhaps thirty customers, for morning and evening papers, and when he had delivered his papers, he would hasten down town, get a new supply of the latest editions, and join the boys in selling on the streets.He was an early riser, like all carriers, and long before the neighbors thought of getting up he was out on the street, and in all kinds of weather.The station agent from whom he procured his morning papers said: “There is not a more faithful boy in the city, from a business view. But he has to be served first. He has a way of his own in pushing ahead of the crowd and is always among the first on his route. He pays cash for what he gets, but still, he is a bad boy.”A gentleman who lived in the neighborhood, and frequently called at the grocery store, became interested in Jimmy. There was something naturally attractive about the boy. There was a twinkle of his black eyes that was really fascinating.“I would like to see what is back of that activity,” said the gentleman, one day to the groceryman.One afternoon, late in the fall, the gentleman was standing on the corner waiting for a car when the groceryman called him.“You said you would like to see what Jimmy, the newsboy, was made of. He is up to some mischief now. He just bought a sack of hickory-nuts, and I’ll bet a cooky he is making some one unhappy.”Two blocks away was a large lot, with a high fence around it. Scattered about the lot were a dozen or more hickory trees. The gentleman saw Jimmy climb the fence, walk to the farther side of the lot, and when under a heavy foliaged tree he stood for some moments looking in every direction. Finally he began to scatter hickory-nuts under the tree. Very carefully seeing that theywere dropped all around this particular tree. Sometimes he would take a handful of leaves and cover over a lot of nuts. To the gentleman this was an unusual transaction, so he walked around to the big gate and followed a path across the heavy grass, and went to Jimmy.“I have a curiosity to know what you are doing,” said the gentleman, “and if you have no objections I would like to have you tell me.”Jimmy took him by the hand, that he might hasten towards the sidewalk, and when away from the tree, he said.“You see, mister, termorrow is Saturday. There’s no school. Across the street lives a whole lot of little boys and girls, and some of the boys don’t like me very well, but that doesn’t cut any figure with me. They comes over here every day after school and particularly on Saturday and hunt for hickory-nuts; but these old trees don’t bear any more; they’s dead. But that one over there, with the leaves, sometimes has hickory-nuts, but this year nary a nut is on the old tree. So I bought these here nuts an’ scattered ’em all around the ground, an’ termorrow I’ll sneak around the fence and watch the girls an’ boys gather them. Won’t they be happy?”“I should think they would,” replied the man.“They are real hickory-nuts, too,” added Jimmy, “I blowed in fifteen cents at our grocery store. If you want to you may come termorrow an’ I will guarantee you will see the happiest bunch ever gathered under a hickory-nut tree. Will you come?”“Well, I should be delighted to come; and I will be there before you will,” replied the gentleman kindly.“You see,” said Jimmy, “I cannot come until I deliver all my papers, an’ that’ll be about eight o’clock. If you get there before I do, don’t you ever tell who put the nuts under the tree, will you?”“I promise you, Jimmy, I will not only keep it to myself, but I will not even go on the lot, until you come.”A few words about Jimmy and his home, and they parted as friends.“Under the hickory-nut tree termorrow there’ll be a dozen happy girls an’ boys, an’ some of the boys don’t like me,” rang in the ears of the gentleman all during the evening and frequently in the night.What a sermon, sowing and reaping.“I AM SCATTERING HICKORY-NUTS UNDER THIS OLD TREE FOR THE CHILDREN TO FIND TERMORROW.”See Page7
CHAPTER I.On the corner of one of the principal thoroughfares, in a very large city, there was located, fifteen years ago, a small grocery store. In front of the building the enterprising owner displayed fruits, vegetables and other goods; articles that were particularly tempting to boys.In a near-by cottage there lived a very bright boy, twelve years of age, and familiarly known to every one in the neighborhood, as Jimmy, the newsboy. And that meant a bad boy.On the disappearance of an occasional apple, an orange, or if one of the fruit-stands was upset, it was declared that Jimmy did it. All fights around the corner originated from Jimmy.So bad was this boy’s reputation that every one in the ward, including several Sunday-school teachers, was kept busy looking for a favorable opportunity to give Jimmy, what they thought he deserved, “a good licking.”The groceryman was not slow in letting his customers know how bad Jimmy was.He was kicked, lectured, preached to, and a dozen times a day was pushed off the corner.He was abused because he annoyed men and women by his misbehavior.No one ever stopped to ask this boy where he lived; what about his parents, his home life, or to see if there was really any good in him worth trying to develop. The bad was visible, and the people seemed to delight in their vain efforts to correct him by censures and kicks.There was no question about Jimmy being bad, about as bad as any street-boy would become who had his own way, and, whose parents permitted him to go and come when he pleased, and to associate with bad company, particularly boys older than he was.Jimmy was a leader of a gang of little toughs who always met at the corner, in the evenings, and delighted in making it unpleasant for those who lived within hearing distance. He was strong, quick, and could throw to the ground any boy of his size, and never hesitated trying a much larger boy. He was the terror of the corners.Yet with all his bad reputation, no one ever caught him doing anything for which he could be punished under the state laws.Circumstantial evidence was all the groceryman could produce at any time he was accused. The boy who “squealed” to the groceryman about Jimmy had to remain away from the corner until he thought that Jimmy had forgotten it.Jimmy was a typical newsboy.He was not happy in fine clothes. He did not use the many slang phrases which so frequently become a part of a street-boy’s life and enjoyment, but he had everything else.He had a small route, perhaps thirty customers, for morning and evening papers, and when he had delivered his papers, he would hasten down town, get a new supply of the latest editions, and join the boys in selling on the streets.He was an early riser, like all carriers, and long before the neighbors thought of getting up he was out on the street, and in all kinds of weather.The station agent from whom he procured his morning papers said: “There is not a more faithful boy in the city, from a business view. But he has to be served first. He has a way of his own in pushing ahead of the crowd and is always among the first on his route. He pays cash for what he gets, but still, he is a bad boy.”A gentleman who lived in the neighborhood, and frequently called at the grocery store, became interested in Jimmy. There was something naturally attractive about the boy. There was a twinkle of his black eyes that was really fascinating.“I would like to see what is back of that activity,” said the gentleman, one day to the groceryman.One afternoon, late in the fall, the gentleman was standing on the corner waiting for a car when the groceryman called him.“You said you would like to see what Jimmy, the newsboy, was made of. He is up to some mischief now. He just bought a sack of hickory-nuts, and I’ll bet a cooky he is making some one unhappy.”Two blocks away was a large lot, with a high fence around it. Scattered about the lot were a dozen or more hickory trees. The gentleman saw Jimmy climb the fence, walk to the farther side of the lot, and when under a heavy foliaged tree he stood for some moments looking in every direction. Finally he began to scatter hickory-nuts under the tree. Very carefully seeing that theywere dropped all around this particular tree. Sometimes he would take a handful of leaves and cover over a lot of nuts. To the gentleman this was an unusual transaction, so he walked around to the big gate and followed a path across the heavy grass, and went to Jimmy.“I have a curiosity to know what you are doing,” said the gentleman, “and if you have no objections I would like to have you tell me.”Jimmy took him by the hand, that he might hasten towards the sidewalk, and when away from the tree, he said.“You see, mister, termorrow is Saturday. There’s no school. Across the street lives a whole lot of little boys and girls, and some of the boys don’t like me very well, but that doesn’t cut any figure with me. They comes over here every day after school and particularly on Saturday and hunt for hickory-nuts; but these old trees don’t bear any more; they’s dead. But that one over there, with the leaves, sometimes has hickory-nuts, but this year nary a nut is on the old tree. So I bought these here nuts an’ scattered ’em all around the ground, an’ termorrow I’ll sneak around the fence and watch the girls an’ boys gather them. Won’t they be happy?”“I should think they would,” replied the man.“They are real hickory-nuts, too,” added Jimmy, “I blowed in fifteen cents at our grocery store. If you want to you may come termorrow an’ I will guarantee you will see the happiest bunch ever gathered under a hickory-nut tree. Will you come?”“Well, I should be delighted to come; and I will be there before you will,” replied the gentleman kindly.“You see,” said Jimmy, “I cannot come until I deliver all my papers, an’ that’ll be about eight o’clock. If you get there before I do, don’t you ever tell who put the nuts under the tree, will you?”“I promise you, Jimmy, I will not only keep it to myself, but I will not even go on the lot, until you come.”A few words about Jimmy and his home, and they parted as friends.“Under the hickory-nut tree termorrow there’ll be a dozen happy girls an’ boys, an’ some of the boys don’t like me,” rang in the ears of the gentleman all during the evening and frequently in the night.What a sermon, sowing and reaping.“I AM SCATTERING HICKORY-NUTS UNDER THIS OLD TREE FOR THE CHILDREN TO FIND TERMORROW.”See Page7
On the corner of one of the principal thoroughfares, in a very large city, there was located, fifteen years ago, a small grocery store. In front of the building the enterprising owner displayed fruits, vegetables and other goods; articles that were particularly tempting to boys.
In a near-by cottage there lived a very bright boy, twelve years of age, and familiarly known to every one in the neighborhood, as Jimmy, the newsboy. And that meant a bad boy.
On the disappearance of an occasional apple, an orange, or if one of the fruit-stands was upset, it was declared that Jimmy did it. All fights around the corner originated from Jimmy.
So bad was this boy’s reputation that every one in the ward, including several Sunday-school teachers, was kept busy looking for a favorable opportunity to give Jimmy, what they thought he deserved, “a good licking.”
The groceryman was not slow in letting his customers know how bad Jimmy was.
He was kicked, lectured, preached to, and a dozen times a day was pushed off the corner.
He was abused because he annoyed men and women by his misbehavior.
No one ever stopped to ask this boy where he lived; what about his parents, his home life, or to see if there was really any good in him worth trying to develop. The bad was visible, and the people seemed to delight in their vain efforts to correct him by censures and kicks.
There was no question about Jimmy being bad, about as bad as any street-boy would become who had his own way, and, whose parents permitted him to go and come when he pleased, and to associate with bad company, particularly boys older than he was.
Jimmy was a leader of a gang of little toughs who always met at the corner, in the evenings, and delighted in making it unpleasant for those who lived within hearing distance. He was strong, quick, and could throw to the ground any boy of his size, and never hesitated trying a much larger boy. He was the terror of the corners.
Yet with all his bad reputation, no one ever caught him doing anything for which he could be punished under the state laws.
Circumstantial evidence was all the groceryman could produce at any time he was accused. The boy who “squealed” to the groceryman about Jimmy had to remain away from the corner until he thought that Jimmy had forgotten it.
Jimmy was a typical newsboy.
He was not happy in fine clothes. He did not use the many slang phrases which so frequently become a part of a street-boy’s life and enjoyment, but he had everything else.
He had a small route, perhaps thirty customers, for morning and evening papers, and when he had delivered his papers, he would hasten down town, get a new supply of the latest editions, and join the boys in selling on the streets.
He was an early riser, like all carriers, and long before the neighbors thought of getting up he was out on the street, and in all kinds of weather.
The station agent from whom he procured his morning papers said: “There is not a more faithful boy in the city, from a business view. But he has to be served first. He has a way of his own in pushing ahead of the crowd and is always among the first on his route. He pays cash for what he gets, but still, he is a bad boy.”
A gentleman who lived in the neighborhood, and frequently called at the grocery store, became interested in Jimmy. There was something naturally attractive about the boy. There was a twinkle of his black eyes that was really fascinating.
“I would like to see what is back of that activity,” said the gentleman, one day to the groceryman.
One afternoon, late in the fall, the gentleman was standing on the corner waiting for a car when the groceryman called him.
“You said you would like to see what Jimmy, the newsboy, was made of. He is up to some mischief now. He just bought a sack of hickory-nuts, and I’ll bet a cooky he is making some one unhappy.”
Two blocks away was a large lot, with a high fence around it. Scattered about the lot were a dozen or more hickory trees. The gentleman saw Jimmy climb the fence, walk to the farther side of the lot, and when under a heavy foliaged tree he stood for some moments looking in every direction. Finally he began to scatter hickory-nuts under the tree. Very carefully seeing that theywere dropped all around this particular tree. Sometimes he would take a handful of leaves and cover over a lot of nuts. To the gentleman this was an unusual transaction, so he walked around to the big gate and followed a path across the heavy grass, and went to Jimmy.
“I have a curiosity to know what you are doing,” said the gentleman, “and if you have no objections I would like to have you tell me.”
Jimmy took him by the hand, that he might hasten towards the sidewalk, and when away from the tree, he said.
“You see, mister, termorrow is Saturday. There’s no school. Across the street lives a whole lot of little boys and girls, and some of the boys don’t like me very well, but that doesn’t cut any figure with me. They comes over here every day after school and particularly on Saturday and hunt for hickory-nuts; but these old trees don’t bear any more; they’s dead. But that one over there, with the leaves, sometimes has hickory-nuts, but this year nary a nut is on the old tree. So I bought these here nuts an’ scattered ’em all around the ground, an’ termorrow I’ll sneak around the fence and watch the girls an’ boys gather them. Won’t they be happy?”
“I should think they would,” replied the man.
“They are real hickory-nuts, too,” added Jimmy, “I blowed in fifteen cents at our grocery store. If you want to you may come termorrow an’ I will guarantee you will see the happiest bunch ever gathered under a hickory-nut tree. Will you come?”
“Well, I should be delighted to come; and I will be there before you will,” replied the gentleman kindly.
“You see,” said Jimmy, “I cannot come until I deliver all my papers, an’ that’ll be about eight o’clock. If you get there before I do, don’t you ever tell who put the nuts under the tree, will you?”
“I promise you, Jimmy, I will not only keep it to myself, but I will not even go on the lot, until you come.”
A few words about Jimmy and his home, and they parted as friends.
“Under the hickory-nut tree termorrow there’ll be a dozen happy girls an’ boys, an’ some of the boys don’t like me,” rang in the ears of the gentleman all during the evening and frequently in the night.
What a sermon, sowing and reaping.
“I AM SCATTERING HICKORY-NUTS UNDER THIS OLD TREE FOR THE CHILDREN TO FIND TERMORROW.”See Page7
“I AM SCATTERING HICKORY-NUTS UNDER THIS OLD TREE FOR THE CHILDREN TO FIND TERMORROW.”See Page7
“I AM SCATTERING HICKORY-NUTS UNDER THIS OLD TREE FOR THE CHILDREN TO FIND TERMORROW.”
See Page7