CHAPTER XIII.Do you believe a boy that is good at home, one who is cared for and loved as we often see an only child, could possibly do anything bad on the streets, away from home influence?A neatly dressed boy, a carrier, whose parents “wanted him to learn the trade of the street, to give him self-reliance and business tact, and all that the street teaches without much effort,” when through with his little route of carrying papers insisted upon going, “to the heart of the city and selling papers on special occasions, extras.”Before Boyville was fully organized the president’s attention was called to this little fellow—as being “a perfect nuisance. He was impudent, frequently used profane language and was one of the worst boys on the street.” At that time the association had but one (boy) officer. He was told to watch this boy. See that he was corrected. “And, above everything not to lose him because he was bad.” Within a month the officer reported “the boy’s parents were among the best in the city, good Christian people, attending churchevery Sunday, and the boy a regular prize-winner for perfect attendance at Sunday-school. When this boy was away from home, out of sight of his parents—he was a little terror.”“Well, what did you do with him?” was asked the officer.“I takes his papers, an’ shows him as how to sell ’em. How to say thank you when he sells to a gemmen or a ladies. And how’s not to be the whole thing when on the street working. He cut out swearing de furst thing. He was easy doing, all he wanted wus guidin.”“What did he say to your work?”“When I puts twenty cents in his hand, an’ says this is yourn, he gets wise, he gets next to a good thing and is now working on de square. He is de boss seller on de street an’ no boy kin sell on de corners and swear, or steal. He fights ’em. He does.”That same little boy, who was given a warning by a fellow companion with a little authority, today receives a salary of eight hundred dollars a year in an important commercial position.In every city of our land there are hundreds of boys like this “good boy at home,” who on the street surprises their most intimate friends by their wickedness.“TROW DE CIGARETTE AWAY.”See Page74The newsboy cannot gain admission to many of the boys clubs, debating clubs, athletic clubs, and is often debarred from many of our greatest christian associations, because he is a being within himself, he stands alone in his class, a creation of his own acts and deeds, and goes upon the street at that age when environment molds his future, and generally molds it bad.A question is often asked, what would become of a boy if he were left to himself, with no training, no guidance, no education. A boy of the street, who is dead to home influences, or worse, who is driven out to make a living for himself by heartless parents or guardians, or unfortunate conditions of life, and there are hundreds of them in every city, becomes a power in himself. For evil, first. “For the heart of the sons of men is fully set in them to do evil.” If left alone the evil will get the upper hand. The street teaches irregular habits and restlessness.The following incident will show how diligent were the boys, not officers, in watching their companions.Two little boys, ages nine and twelve, saw afellow member standing in an alley, behind a pile of store boxes and enjoying a cigarette to his great delight. He was afraid to appear on the street as the boys were watching for such cases. He was a boy about fifteen years of age, rather stout and independent, but a staunch member of the association. He might have used his strength to great advantage in arguing with the two boys who attacked him as soon as discovered.“Say, Mike, youse knows it’s agin the rule to smoke dem cig’rettes.”“Dat’s all right. If I wants to smoke, I smoke, see? No one sees me in the alley. I don’t smoke when I sells me papers.”“Aw! comes off, youse knows de rules. Cut it out. Trow it away. Youse knows our president don’t wants youse ter smoke ’em. Cut it out. Trow it away.”This persuasive talk or “bluff” as the smoker declared, had but little effect until the two boys began to take off their coats. When donned for the prize ring, the boys walked to the violator, presenting a bold front and again demanded that the cigarette be thrown away, and promise made that he would never smoke again.“What youse goin’ to do?” he said, backingup closer to the building. “We will trow you down, take your badge frum youse an’ take it to the president.”The big boy stood quiet for some moments, in the mean time about thirty newsies had gathered around him, each yelling—“trow it away.”“I haint lookin’ fur no trouble,” he finally said, and threw the cigarette in the alley.“We’s only doin’ you a good turn,” said the nine-year-old newsy.“It’s all right. I was only tryin’ to see if you would stop me. I’ll cut it all out. I will never smoke again.”That boy did not have to be watched. He was good and kind to his little friends, and proved to be one of the best boys on the street. Two years later, when he graduated from the junior grade, in one of the ward schools, he came to the president, saying that his mother was poor and sickly and he had to go to work. He was sent to a wholesale house where was wanted a good honest boy.The first question asked Mike was:“Do you smoke cigarettes?” The president will never forget the manly, prompt reply. He was given a good position, and that boy today istraveling for a firm in Cleveland, Ohio, at a big salary. The increased interest in the detail work taken by the boys themselves encouraged the president to believe that he was still on the right road to build these little street-boys up for good, not only for themselves but for doing good for others. Another case of interest in an unusual way of “doin’ a good turn.” A bright-eyed, red-faced boy, ten years old, came running into the president’s office, one evening, almost out of breath, and after clearing the way through a long room, he stood before the officer, eyes sparkling with interest. He had something important to say. His elbows were bare, his pants torn, his cap merely a piece of cloth, with a rim strong enough to hold it in place. His name was Bluster, receiving it from the boys on account of his blustering manner of doing things.“Say, pres.,” yelled Bluster. “I want authority to lick a kid.”That was a strange request. While the president was thinking what to say he added.“I must have permission fur de gang’s after me. Dey’re on me track.” Not desiring the gang to enter the office and create a scene, consentwas given for Bluster to use force, if necessary to defend himself. A smile of satisfaction came over Bluster’s face. A smile that indicated that he had taken advantage of the president, and was now about to glory in it. After a moments thought he said.“Say, pres., I already licked him.”“Who and what for?” was asked with considerable surprise.“Fur swearin.”Before he could explain the details of the case, in rushed eight or ten boys, all talking at once. Bluster never smiled when the boys declared he wasn’t an officer and had no business to “take the law into his own hands.”“That’s all right,” put in Bluster, “ain’t we supposed to work fur each others good? Well, an’ wasn’t I ’tendin’ to my own business on de corner. I wus standin’ there crying all about de big fire, when a man frum de other side of the street calls fur me to come over. I starts an’ so does Swipsey, I beats Swipsey, an’ sells de man a paper, an’ what does Swipsey do? Does he go about his business? No, he told the man to go to hell and used other swear words an’ I saw our association wus receiving a black eye. It’s nouse to preach to Swipsey, de only way to bring him to his thinking is to lick him. He knows as well as youses that its agin de rules to swear. So I punched him. I turned him an’ rolled him over until he cried enuf, an’ promised he would not swear again. Then de gang came after me an’ I runned to you.”The boys still declared he had no right to punish Swipsey without permission from the president. Quick as flash Bluster said:“Say, pres., didn’t I have permission?”The president could do nothing but back Bluster up. He had given him full authority. At this juncture, Swipsey made his appearance. His hair disheveled, face and hands dirty, and clothes in a terrible condition. Swipsey listened to Bluster’s story with a great deal of patience. He looked guilty.“All we want to know,” said the leader of the gang, “is whether we can punish a boy for violating the rules, even if we are not officers.” That was a leading question, and experience had taught the president that it was a very wise thing to have any boy punish a member, and in his own way. The only provision made was that no badge must be taken away from a boy by a non-officer.Where a boy cannot be corrected by a fellow member, he must submit the case to an officer. This was agreed to and the boys were satisfied with the method used by Bluster. The two boys were made a little present, and they all left in their usual happy mood.
CHAPTER XIII.Do you believe a boy that is good at home, one who is cared for and loved as we often see an only child, could possibly do anything bad on the streets, away from home influence?A neatly dressed boy, a carrier, whose parents “wanted him to learn the trade of the street, to give him self-reliance and business tact, and all that the street teaches without much effort,” when through with his little route of carrying papers insisted upon going, “to the heart of the city and selling papers on special occasions, extras.”Before Boyville was fully organized the president’s attention was called to this little fellow—as being “a perfect nuisance. He was impudent, frequently used profane language and was one of the worst boys on the street.” At that time the association had but one (boy) officer. He was told to watch this boy. See that he was corrected. “And, above everything not to lose him because he was bad.” Within a month the officer reported “the boy’s parents were among the best in the city, good Christian people, attending churchevery Sunday, and the boy a regular prize-winner for perfect attendance at Sunday-school. When this boy was away from home, out of sight of his parents—he was a little terror.”“Well, what did you do with him?” was asked the officer.“I takes his papers, an’ shows him as how to sell ’em. How to say thank you when he sells to a gemmen or a ladies. And how’s not to be the whole thing when on the street working. He cut out swearing de furst thing. He was easy doing, all he wanted wus guidin.”“What did he say to your work?”“When I puts twenty cents in his hand, an’ says this is yourn, he gets wise, he gets next to a good thing and is now working on de square. He is de boss seller on de street an’ no boy kin sell on de corners and swear, or steal. He fights ’em. He does.”That same little boy, who was given a warning by a fellow companion with a little authority, today receives a salary of eight hundred dollars a year in an important commercial position.In every city of our land there are hundreds of boys like this “good boy at home,” who on the street surprises their most intimate friends by their wickedness.“TROW DE CIGARETTE AWAY.”See Page74The newsboy cannot gain admission to many of the boys clubs, debating clubs, athletic clubs, and is often debarred from many of our greatest christian associations, because he is a being within himself, he stands alone in his class, a creation of his own acts and deeds, and goes upon the street at that age when environment molds his future, and generally molds it bad.A question is often asked, what would become of a boy if he were left to himself, with no training, no guidance, no education. A boy of the street, who is dead to home influences, or worse, who is driven out to make a living for himself by heartless parents or guardians, or unfortunate conditions of life, and there are hundreds of them in every city, becomes a power in himself. For evil, first. “For the heart of the sons of men is fully set in them to do evil.” If left alone the evil will get the upper hand. The street teaches irregular habits and restlessness.The following incident will show how diligent were the boys, not officers, in watching their companions.Two little boys, ages nine and twelve, saw afellow member standing in an alley, behind a pile of store boxes and enjoying a cigarette to his great delight. He was afraid to appear on the street as the boys were watching for such cases. He was a boy about fifteen years of age, rather stout and independent, but a staunch member of the association. He might have used his strength to great advantage in arguing with the two boys who attacked him as soon as discovered.“Say, Mike, youse knows it’s agin the rule to smoke dem cig’rettes.”“Dat’s all right. If I wants to smoke, I smoke, see? No one sees me in the alley. I don’t smoke when I sells me papers.”“Aw! comes off, youse knows de rules. Cut it out. Trow it away. Youse knows our president don’t wants youse ter smoke ’em. Cut it out. Trow it away.”This persuasive talk or “bluff” as the smoker declared, had but little effect until the two boys began to take off their coats. When donned for the prize ring, the boys walked to the violator, presenting a bold front and again demanded that the cigarette be thrown away, and promise made that he would never smoke again.“What youse goin’ to do?” he said, backingup closer to the building. “We will trow you down, take your badge frum youse an’ take it to the president.”The big boy stood quiet for some moments, in the mean time about thirty newsies had gathered around him, each yelling—“trow it away.”“I haint lookin’ fur no trouble,” he finally said, and threw the cigarette in the alley.“We’s only doin’ you a good turn,” said the nine-year-old newsy.“It’s all right. I was only tryin’ to see if you would stop me. I’ll cut it all out. I will never smoke again.”That boy did not have to be watched. He was good and kind to his little friends, and proved to be one of the best boys on the street. Two years later, when he graduated from the junior grade, in one of the ward schools, he came to the president, saying that his mother was poor and sickly and he had to go to work. He was sent to a wholesale house where was wanted a good honest boy.The first question asked Mike was:“Do you smoke cigarettes?” The president will never forget the manly, prompt reply. He was given a good position, and that boy today istraveling for a firm in Cleveland, Ohio, at a big salary. The increased interest in the detail work taken by the boys themselves encouraged the president to believe that he was still on the right road to build these little street-boys up for good, not only for themselves but for doing good for others. Another case of interest in an unusual way of “doin’ a good turn.” A bright-eyed, red-faced boy, ten years old, came running into the president’s office, one evening, almost out of breath, and after clearing the way through a long room, he stood before the officer, eyes sparkling with interest. He had something important to say. His elbows were bare, his pants torn, his cap merely a piece of cloth, with a rim strong enough to hold it in place. His name was Bluster, receiving it from the boys on account of his blustering manner of doing things.“Say, pres.,” yelled Bluster. “I want authority to lick a kid.”That was a strange request. While the president was thinking what to say he added.“I must have permission fur de gang’s after me. Dey’re on me track.” Not desiring the gang to enter the office and create a scene, consentwas given for Bluster to use force, if necessary to defend himself. A smile of satisfaction came over Bluster’s face. A smile that indicated that he had taken advantage of the president, and was now about to glory in it. After a moments thought he said.“Say, pres., I already licked him.”“Who and what for?” was asked with considerable surprise.“Fur swearin.”Before he could explain the details of the case, in rushed eight or ten boys, all talking at once. Bluster never smiled when the boys declared he wasn’t an officer and had no business to “take the law into his own hands.”“That’s all right,” put in Bluster, “ain’t we supposed to work fur each others good? Well, an’ wasn’t I ’tendin’ to my own business on de corner. I wus standin’ there crying all about de big fire, when a man frum de other side of the street calls fur me to come over. I starts an’ so does Swipsey, I beats Swipsey, an’ sells de man a paper, an’ what does Swipsey do? Does he go about his business? No, he told the man to go to hell and used other swear words an’ I saw our association wus receiving a black eye. It’s nouse to preach to Swipsey, de only way to bring him to his thinking is to lick him. He knows as well as youses that its agin de rules to swear. So I punched him. I turned him an’ rolled him over until he cried enuf, an’ promised he would not swear again. Then de gang came after me an’ I runned to you.”The boys still declared he had no right to punish Swipsey without permission from the president. Quick as flash Bluster said:“Say, pres., didn’t I have permission?”The president could do nothing but back Bluster up. He had given him full authority. At this juncture, Swipsey made his appearance. His hair disheveled, face and hands dirty, and clothes in a terrible condition. Swipsey listened to Bluster’s story with a great deal of patience. He looked guilty.“All we want to know,” said the leader of the gang, “is whether we can punish a boy for violating the rules, even if we are not officers.” That was a leading question, and experience had taught the president that it was a very wise thing to have any boy punish a member, and in his own way. The only provision made was that no badge must be taken away from a boy by a non-officer.Where a boy cannot be corrected by a fellow member, he must submit the case to an officer. This was agreed to and the boys were satisfied with the method used by Bluster. The two boys were made a little present, and they all left in their usual happy mood.
Do you believe a boy that is good at home, one who is cared for and loved as we often see an only child, could possibly do anything bad on the streets, away from home influence?
A neatly dressed boy, a carrier, whose parents “wanted him to learn the trade of the street, to give him self-reliance and business tact, and all that the street teaches without much effort,” when through with his little route of carrying papers insisted upon going, “to the heart of the city and selling papers on special occasions, extras.”
Before Boyville was fully organized the president’s attention was called to this little fellow—as being “a perfect nuisance. He was impudent, frequently used profane language and was one of the worst boys on the street.” At that time the association had but one (boy) officer. He was told to watch this boy. See that he was corrected. “And, above everything not to lose him because he was bad.” Within a month the officer reported “the boy’s parents were among the best in the city, good Christian people, attending churchevery Sunday, and the boy a regular prize-winner for perfect attendance at Sunday-school. When this boy was away from home, out of sight of his parents—he was a little terror.”
“Well, what did you do with him?” was asked the officer.
“I takes his papers, an’ shows him as how to sell ’em. How to say thank you when he sells to a gemmen or a ladies. And how’s not to be the whole thing when on the street working. He cut out swearing de furst thing. He was easy doing, all he wanted wus guidin.”
“What did he say to your work?”
“When I puts twenty cents in his hand, an’ says this is yourn, he gets wise, he gets next to a good thing and is now working on de square. He is de boss seller on de street an’ no boy kin sell on de corners and swear, or steal. He fights ’em. He does.”
That same little boy, who was given a warning by a fellow companion with a little authority, today receives a salary of eight hundred dollars a year in an important commercial position.
In every city of our land there are hundreds of boys like this “good boy at home,” who on the street surprises their most intimate friends by their wickedness.
“TROW DE CIGARETTE AWAY.”See Page74
“TROW DE CIGARETTE AWAY.”See Page74
“TROW DE CIGARETTE AWAY.”
See Page74
The newsboy cannot gain admission to many of the boys clubs, debating clubs, athletic clubs, and is often debarred from many of our greatest christian associations, because he is a being within himself, he stands alone in his class, a creation of his own acts and deeds, and goes upon the street at that age when environment molds his future, and generally molds it bad.
A question is often asked, what would become of a boy if he were left to himself, with no training, no guidance, no education. A boy of the street, who is dead to home influences, or worse, who is driven out to make a living for himself by heartless parents or guardians, or unfortunate conditions of life, and there are hundreds of them in every city, becomes a power in himself. For evil, first. “For the heart of the sons of men is fully set in them to do evil.” If left alone the evil will get the upper hand. The street teaches irregular habits and restlessness.
The following incident will show how diligent were the boys, not officers, in watching their companions.
Two little boys, ages nine and twelve, saw afellow member standing in an alley, behind a pile of store boxes and enjoying a cigarette to his great delight. He was afraid to appear on the street as the boys were watching for such cases. He was a boy about fifteen years of age, rather stout and independent, but a staunch member of the association. He might have used his strength to great advantage in arguing with the two boys who attacked him as soon as discovered.
“Say, Mike, youse knows it’s agin the rule to smoke dem cig’rettes.”
“Dat’s all right. If I wants to smoke, I smoke, see? No one sees me in the alley. I don’t smoke when I sells me papers.”
“Aw! comes off, youse knows de rules. Cut it out. Trow it away. Youse knows our president don’t wants youse ter smoke ’em. Cut it out. Trow it away.”
This persuasive talk or “bluff” as the smoker declared, had but little effect until the two boys began to take off their coats. When donned for the prize ring, the boys walked to the violator, presenting a bold front and again demanded that the cigarette be thrown away, and promise made that he would never smoke again.
“What youse goin’ to do?” he said, backingup closer to the building. “We will trow you down, take your badge frum youse an’ take it to the president.”
The big boy stood quiet for some moments, in the mean time about thirty newsies had gathered around him, each yelling—“trow it away.”
“I haint lookin’ fur no trouble,” he finally said, and threw the cigarette in the alley.
“We’s only doin’ you a good turn,” said the nine-year-old newsy.
“It’s all right. I was only tryin’ to see if you would stop me. I’ll cut it all out. I will never smoke again.”
That boy did not have to be watched. He was good and kind to his little friends, and proved to be one of the best boys on the street. Two years later, when he graduated from the junior grade, in one of the ward schools, he came to the president, saying that his mother was poor and sickly and he had to go to work. He was sent to a wholesale house where was wanted a good honest boy.
The first question asked Mike was:
“Do you smoke cigarettes?” The president will never forget the manly, prompt reply. He was given a good position, and that boy today istraveling for a firm in Cleveland, Ohio, at a big salary. The increased interest in the detail work taken by the boys themselves encouraged the president to believe that he was still on the right road to build these little street-boys up for good, not only for themselves but for doing good for others. Another case of interest in an unusual way of “doin’ a good turn.” A bright-eyed, red-faced boy, ten years old, came running into the president’s office, one evening, almost out of breath, and after clearing the way through a long room, he stood before the officer, eyes sparkling with interest. He had something important to say. His elbows were bare, his pants torn, his cap merely a piece of cloth, with a rim strong enough to hold it in place. His name was Bluster, receiving it from the boys on account of his blustering manner of doing things.
“Say, pres.,” yelled Bluster. “I want authority to lick a kid.”
That was a strange request. While the president was thinking what to say he added.
“I must have permission fur de gang’s after me. Dey’re on me track.” Not desiring the gang to enter the office and create a scene, consentwas given for Bluster to use force, if necessary to defend himself. A smile of satisfaction came over Bluster’s face. A smile that indicated that he had taken advantage of the president, and was now about to glory in it. After a moments thought he said.
“Say, pres., I already licked him.”
“Who and what for?” was asked with considerable surprise.
“Fur swearin.”
Before he could explain the details of the case, in rushed eight or ten boys, all talking at once. Bluster never smiled when the boys declared he wasn’t an officer and had no business to “take the law into his own hands.”
“That’s all right,” put in Bluster, “ain’t we supposed to work fur each others good? Well, an’ wasn’t I ’tendin’ to my own business on de corner. I wus standin’ there crying all about de big fire, when a man frum de other side of the street calls fur me to come over. I starts an’ so does Swipsey, I beats Swipsey, an’ sells de man a paper, an’ what does Swipsey do? Does he go about his business? No, he told the man to go to hell and used other swear words an’ I saw our association wus receiving a black eye. It’s nouse to preach to Swipsey, de only way to bring him to his thinking is to lick him. He knows as well as youses that its agin de rules to swear. So I punched him. I turned him an’ rolled him over until he cried enuf, an’ promised he would not swear again. Then de gang came after me an’ I runned to you.”
The boys still declared he had no right to punish Swipsey without permission from the president. Quick as flash Bluster said:
“Say, pres., didn’t I have permission?”
The president could do nothing but back Bluster up. He had given him full authority. At this juncture, Swipsey made his appearance. His hair disheveled, face and hands dirty, and clothes in a terrible condition. Swipsey listened to Bluster’s story with a great deal of patience. He looked guilty.
“All we want to know,” said the leader of the gang, “is whether we can punish a boy for violating the rules, even if we are not officers.” That was a leading question, and experience had taught the president that it was a very wise thing to have any boy punish a member, and in his own way. The only provision made was that no badge must be taken away from a boy by a non-officer.Where a boy cannot be corrected by a fellow member, he must submit the case to an officer. This was agreed to and the boys were satisfied with the method used by Bluster. The two boys were made a little present, and they all left in their usual happy mood.