or a mere
child, was hard enough; but often to have no food, to be kicked and
cuffed by the older ruffians, and shoved about by the police, standing
barefooted and in rags under doorways as the winter-storm raged, and to
know that in all the great city there was not a single door open with
welcome to the little rover--this was harder.

Yet, with all this, a more light-hearted youngster than the street-boy
is not to be found. He is always ready to make fun of his own
sufferings, and to "chaff" others. His face is old from exposure and his
sharp "struggle for existence;" his clothes flutter in the breeze; and
his bare feet peep out from the broken boots. Yet he is merry as a
clown, and always ready for the smallest joke, and quick to take "a
point" or to return a repartee. His views of life are mainly derived
from the more mature opinions of "flash-men," engine-runners,
cock-fighters, pugilists, and pickpockets, whom he occasionally is
permitted to look upon with admiration at some select pot-house; while
his more ideal pictures of the world about him, and, his literary
education, come from the low theatres, to which he is passionately
attached. His morals are, of course, not of a high order, living, as he
does, in a fighting, swearing, stealing, and gambling set. Yet he has
his code; he will not get drunk; he pays his debts to other boys, and
thinks it dishonorable to sell papers on their beat, and, if they come
on his, he administers summary justice by "punching;" he is generous to
a fault, and will always divide his last sixpence with a poorer boy.
"Life is a strife" with him, and money its reward; and, as bankruptcy
means to the street-boy a night on the door-steps without supper, he is
sharp and reckless, if he can only earn or get enough to keep him above
water. His temptations are, to cheat, steal, and lie. His religion is
vague. One boy, who told me he "didn't live nowhere," who had never
heard of Christ, said he had heard of God, and the boys thought it "kind
o' lucky" to say over something to Him which one of them had learned,
when they were sleeping out in boxes.

With all their other vices, it is remarkable how few of these smaller
street-boys ever take liquor. And their kindness to one another, when
all are in the utmost destitution, is a credit to human nature. [Only
recently, a poor hump-backed lad in the Newsboys' Lodging-house gave his
dollar, and collected nine more from the boys, for the family of the