Library Collections: Document: Full Text

For besides learning to "read, write and cipher," the kind, judicious, Christian training they are constantly receiving in these excellent schools is really of more value to them than any amount of mere book knowledge.

Here is a little fellow who was pronounced incorrigible when first brought in from the streets; but patient instruction, and the kind, firm control of his teacher, have already wrought such a change in him that Johnny is now considered one of the brightest, best-behaved boys in the whole school. He and his little brother Michael are both licensed newsboys, and upon them depends the main support of the family, for their father, too, is a miserable drunkard.

Questioning one after another, your heart aches for these little "child toilers," who must needs learn so early in life all the "rough and tumble "of this strange, work-a-day world. Nevertheless, there is a bright side to the picture, for, thrown upon their own resources, and stimulated by the thought of weaker ones who depend upon them, these little fellows early develop a sturdy self-reliance, and a brave fortitude that in after-life is of inestimable benefit to them.

Here, for instance, is little Robert Kelly, only twelve years of age, who helps support a family of eight persons. His father gets occasional jobs when he can, at the coal wharves, but, after all, it is upon little Robert that the steady maintenance depends. At home, he is his mother's "right hand man" in doing all sorts of chores; and at school his neat, tidy appearance, and good conduct, are especially praiseworthy.

Another boy, John Falvey, by name, is fourteen years of age, and the oldest of four children. His father is scarcely ever in a condition to earn anything, and the mother, with her home cares, can do but little. So the support of the family comes upon John and his youngest brother, who have bravely taken up the burden together. These few instances might be multiplied by a score of others; but I think enough have already been given, to show my readers how much depends upon the labors of this class of little men.

To be sure, their behavior upon the street, is not always what it should be. Sometimes, I am sorry to say, they are rude, noisy, and otherwise disagreeable to passers-by. There is one sad picture that haunts me as I write, and I wouldn't show it to my "Wide Awake" readers, only that I want them to know all about the temptations and dangers that beset our little newsboys. One night, not long ago, a tiny lad, not more than nine years old, was found -- must I write the ugly words? -- just beastly drunk, under the steps in Williams Court! Perhaps it was his first taste of the vile liquor -- at all events, let us hope it will be the last -- but the lager beer wagons offer great temptations to the hungry, thirsty boys, and I fear that many of them are frequent customers. Bad conduct on the street, however, is the exception, not the rule, among our Boston newsboys. The bright badge they wear upon their jackets, with their number and "Licensed" upon it, is in itself a guarantee of good behavior; for before obtaining this from the city government, the boys are on probation a certain length of time. If they prove worthy, and promise faithfully to comply with the terms and conditions of a "Minor's License;" application is made for them, by some responsible person, to the Board of Aldermen; and in due course of time they receive their license papers. Each boy has his own number, and by the payment of one dollar, the silver badges are given them, which they promise to wear conspicuously in sight, and, on no condition, transfer, exchange, borrow or lend. If at any time they wish to give up their licenses, these badges are returned, and their money is paid back to them.

Happening in, one day, at the office on Pemberton Square, I watched with not a little interest, a group of "candidates" as the boys are called before they have received their badges. The little fellows eagerly crowded round the officer's desk, each with his own story to tell, and one after another they received their license papers and bright silver badges. One boy, who stood apart from the rest, had come to give up his license and badge; but as the latter was somewhat marred by careless usage, I noticed he received but seventy-five cents for it. Another little urchin who could hardly reach up to the desk on tip-toe, laid down the two half dollars he had brought, and received not only his badge but a silver quarter beside. This greatly surprised and delighted him; but Mr. Wright, who has charge of these matters and is always a kind friend to the boys, explained that the badge he had given him, though "second-hand," would answer every purpose, and the extra quarter was greatly needed at home. Opening the big books where all the boy's licenses -- or rather copies of them -- are filed, one gets an insight into the workings of this admirable system. "A gentleman came to me the other day," said one of the officers in charge, and told me how a certain newsboy had cheated him. "I had no pennies," the gentleman went on to say, "but taking one of the boy's papers, I handed him a twenty-five cent piece which he ran around the corner to change. Of course, that was the last of the boy and the twenty-five now, sir, don't misunderstand me I don't care for the missing change, but I do care for the morals of your newsboys!"