pper-stealers, and of all the ragged
crowd who live by peddling wood near the East River wharves. It has had
a checkered career. One superintendent was "cleaned out" twice on
successive nights, and had his till robbed almost under his nose.
Another was almost hustled out of the dormitory by the youthful
vagabonds; but order has at length been gained; considerable numbers of
the _gamins_ have been tamed into honest farmers, and others are
pursuing regular occupations.
The Night-school is busily attended; the Day-school is a model of
industry; the "Bank" is used, and the Sunday-evening Meeting is one of
the most interesting and impressive which we have.
Its recent success and improvement are due to the personal interest and
exertions of one of our trustees, who has thrown into this labor of
charity a characteristic energy, as well as the earnestness of a
profound religious nature.
We have in this building, also, a great variety of charitable work
crowded; but we hope, through the liberality which has founded our other
Lodging-houses, to secure a more suitable building, which shall be a
permanent blessing to that quarter.
STATISTICS FROM ORIGIN TO 1872.
Number of lodgings.......................... 67,198
Number of meals............................. 65,757
Sent West................................... 278
Restored to friends......................... 138
Number of different boys.................... 3,036
Amount paid by boys.........................$6,522.22
CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE CHILD-VAGRANT.
There is without doubt in the blood of most children--as an inheritance,
perhaps, from some remote barbarian ancestor--a passion for roving.
There are few of us who cannot recall the delicious pleasure of
wandering at free will in childhood, far from schools, houses, and the
tasks laid upon us, and leading in the fields or woods a semi-savage
existence. In fact, to some of us, now in manhood, there is scarcely a
greater pleasure of the senses than to gratify "the savage in one's
blood," and lead a wild life in the woods. The boys among the poor feel
this passion often almost irresistibly. Nothing will keep them in school
or at home. Having perhaps kind parents, and not a peculiarly
disagreeable home, they will yet rove off night and day, enjoying the
idle, lazzaroni life on the docks, living in the summer almost in the
water
|