e heathen of the street. We find, in our
Journal of 1856, the following entries (p. 11):--

"The other meeting has been opened in the hall, at the corner of
Sixteenth Street and Eighth Avenue, by Mr. D. Slater. It had, in the
beginning, a rather stormy time, being frequented by the rowdy and
thieving boys of the quarter. Mr. S. has once or twice been obliged to
call in the help of the police, and to arrest the ringleaders. Now,
however, by his patient kindness and anxiety for the welfare of the
lads, he has gained a permanent influence. The police have remarked how
much less the streets, on a Sunday, have been infested, since he opened
the meeting, with vagabond boys. Several notorious street-boys have
abandoned their bad habits, and now go regularly to the Public Schools,
or are in steady business. The average attendance the first month was
88; it is now 162. The average evening attendance is 104.

There is a family of four boys, all orphans, whom their friends could do
nothing with, and turned into the streets. They lived by petty stealing,
and slept in hay-lofts in winter, and on stoops or in coal-boxes in
summer. Since they came to the meeting they have all gone to work; they
attend Public School, and come regularly to evening meeting. They used
to be in rags and filth, but now are clean and well dressed. Their uncle
came to me and said the meeting had done them more good than all their
friends together."--(_Mr. Slater's Report._)

"Yesterday, Mr. Slater brought a thin, sad boy to us--had found him in
the streets and heard his story, and then gave him a breakfast, and led
him up to our office. The lad seemed like one weary almost of living.
'Where are your father and mother, my boy?' 'Both dead, sir.' 'Where are
your other relatives or friends?' 'Hain't got no friends, sir; I've
lived by myself on the street.' 'Where did you stay?' 'I slept _in the
privy_ sometime, sir; and then in the stables in Sixteenth Street.'
'Poor fellow,' said some one, 'how did you get your living?' 'Begged
it--and then, them stable-men, they give me bread sometimes.' 'Have you
ever been to school, or Sunday School?' 'No, sir.' So the sad story went
on. Within two blocks of our richest houses, a desolate boy grows up,
not merely out of Christianity and out of education, but out of a common
human shelter, and of means of livelihood.

"The vermin were creeping over him as he spoke. A few days before this,
Mr. S. had brought up three thorou