On the following Monday morning, at the appointed, hour, Jimmy, with
eight other boys, was at the office of his newly-made friend.
It was an interesting picture, an exciting scene.
Noisy, loud talking, several answering questions at the same time, some
turning over books, papers, investigating everything in sight. Sharp,
shrewd, busy at every moment, quick to answer any question and the
replies always satisfactory, and to the point.
“Don’t you know anything,” said Jimmy to a friend, who was trying to
investigate how a typewriter was made, “let that meechine alone.”
It was soon in evidence that Jimmy’s word meant something, for each
boy obeyed him without saying a word, except a little grunt of
dissatisfaction, to show he hated to obey. Not one of the eight boys
had clean hands. Not one a coat with a button. Three safety-pins held
holding positions in some of their coats. Not one used a handkerchief,
and the slang would puzzle many a lawyer.
As one of the boys lost his cap he said: “Some kid five-fingered
it.—took it with his hand.” It was an interesting crowd.
“Well, you are on time, Jimmy, and I see you have brought some of your
friends with you,” said the gentleman.
“These is part of de gang,” said Jimmy.
“Do you boys all want to be my friends, just the same as Jimmy is?”
They replied, “Sure thing; cert. Yes’m.”
These friendly words brought the gang closer to the gentleman’s desk.
And more papers were disturbed. The ink was investigated and one of the
boys wanted to know why it wasn’t red ink. Another poked his finger
in the ink stand and made black streaks down the smallest boy’s face.
The gentleman was shown quite a number of articles they had in their
pockets. Nails, buttons, marbles, pieces of slate-pencils, etc., all of
which had to be admired.
“Say, you, mister,” said a nine-year-old dirty-faced, bright-eyed boy,
“I had trouble gittin’ here. De con. wus onto me an’ I had to take two
lines ’fore I rode into de office wid out blowin’ in a cent.”
“Well, quit your wasting words,” said Jimmy.
The boys gathered around the gentleman, and he said:
“My! what good you boys can do in this world with all of your push,
and energy, your hustling, your good health, you boys can turn up
something, and I’m going to help you do it. How would you like to help
me make all the men and women who buy papers of you learn to love you.
Learn to speak kindly to you?”
“Aw, de peoples don’t care fur us.” said a boy Jimmy called “Indian.”
“Well, I don’t know about that. There is one thing certain there can be
no harm in trying. The trouble is, people don’t know you, and you won’t
let them get acquainted with you. Let’s make a start. First, I want to
know if every one of you wants to be a friend of mine? You do, that’s a
good start. And whenever you see me on the street, it doesn’t make any
difference what I am doing, or who I am talking to, will you come to me
and say, good morning or good evening?” They all agreed.
“And another thing, when you boys are down town and should you hurt
yourself, or get into some trouble, lose your papers, your money, or
some one frightens you, I want you to call on me, and I will try to
help you. Notice, I say when you are in trouble, because when you are
doing well and everything comes your way, you need no assistance. You
can take care of yourselves. What do you say, boys, to this?”
[Illustration: THE ORIGINAL CHARTER MEMBERS.
_See Page 14_
]
They all promised and were glad of the opportunity.
This was the first intimate talk with the gang.
Two days later, while the gentleman was very busy in his office, into
the room came one of the little visitors followed by some of the gang,
he was limping and crying as if his heart would break. He paid no
attention to any one in the office but made directly for the gentleman,
who seeing him, excused himself from his business friends and said to
the boy,
“Well, now, what has happened to you?”
“A man shoved me off de sidewalk into de gutter and me foot struck a
piece of glass,” he replied, between sobs. His foot was bloody, and
the more blood he saw the louder became his cries. He was taken into a
near-by hotel, his foot carefully washed, a handkerchief tied over the
wound, his tears wiped away, and when back into the office he said:
“I thank you, sir.”
He picked up his bundle of papers, all pain had disappeared, the smiles
again came to his pretty face, and with his friends, left the office,
singing a popular air.
The result of this little act of duty added fifty new friends.