TON.

Lives of great men all remind us
We should make our lives sublime,
And departing leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time.

So sang Longfellow! Yet how difficult is it for most men and women to
make their lives sublime, and how much more difficult for a child of
ten years! Still it is possible.

John Clinton was born on the 17th January, 1884, at Greek Street,
Soho. His father is a respectable carman, who, a year after little
Johnnie's birth, moved to 4 Church Terrace, Waterloo Road, Lambeth.
When three years old he was sent to the parish schools of St. John's,
Waterloo Road (Miss Towers being the mistress). While a scholar there
he met with a severe accident on the 27th January, 1890. Playing with
other children in the Waterloo Road, a heavy iron gate fell on him
and fractured his skull terribly. He was taken to the St. Thomas's
Hospital, where he remained for thirteen weeks. At first the doctors
said he would not get over it, then that if he got over it he would be
an idiot; but finally their surgical skill and careful nursing were
rewarded, and he came out well in every respect, except for an awful
scar along one side of his head. In due time he moved into the Boys'
School at St. John's, Waterloo Road (Mr. Davey, headmaster). In July,
1893, a tiny child was playing in the middle of Stamford Street when a
hansom cab came dashing along over the smooth wood paving. Little John
Clinton darted out and gave the child a violent push, at the risk of
being run over himself, and got the little one to the side of the road
in safety. A big brother of the child, not understanding what had
happened, gave John Clinton a blow on the nose for interfering with
the child, whose life John Clinton had saved. The blow was the cause
of this act of bravery becoming known, and the big brother afterwards
apologised for his hasty conduct. How many accidents to children are
caused by the lamentable absence of open spaces and playgrounds! 460
persons are yearly killed in the streets of London and over 2000
injured there, many of them being children playing in the only place
they have to play in.

On Sunday, 26th February, 1893, Johnnie was at home minding the baby.
During his temporary absence from the room the baby set itself on
fire. When he came back and saw the flames, instead of wasting time
calling for help, he rolled the baby on the floor, and succeeded in
putting the flames out. The curtain nearest the cot had