They fought, and then ran; and they never fought except with some
real or fancied advantage. They were grave, like Indians, for the most
part; and they were noisy without being gay. They seldom laughed, except
at the pain or shame of some one; I think they had no other conception
of a joke, though they told what they thought were funny stories, mostly
about some Irishman just come across the sea, but without expecting any
one to laugh. In fact, life was a very serious affair with them. They
lived in a state of outlawry, in the midst of invisible terrors, and
they knew no rule but that of might.

I am afraid that _Harper's Young People_, or rather the mothers of
_Harper's Young People_, may think I am painting a very gloomy picture
of the natives of the Boy's Town; but I do not pretend that what I say
of the boys of forty years ago is true of boys nowadays, especially the
boys who read _Harper's Young People_. I understand that these boys
always like to go tidily dressed and to keep themselves neat; and that a
good many of them carry canes. They would rather go to school than fish,
or hunt, or swim, any day; and if one of their teachers were ever to
offer them a holiday, they would reject it by a vote of the whole
school. They never laugh at a fellow when he hurts himself or tears his
clothes. They are noble and self-sacrificing friends, and they carry out
all their undertakings. They often have very exciting adventures such as
my boy and his mates never had; they rescue one another from shipwreck
and Indians; and if ever they are caught in a burning building, or cast
away on a desolate island, they know just exactly what to do.

But, I am ashamed to say, it was all very different in the Boy's Town;
and I might as well make a clean breast of it while I am about it. The
fellows in that town were every one dreadfully lazy--that is, they never
wanted to do any thing they were set to do; but if they set themselves
to do anything, they would work themselves to death at it. In this alone
I understand that they differed by a whole world's difference from the
boys who read _Harper's Young People_. I am almost afraid to confess how
little moral strength most of those long-ago boys had. A fellow would be
very good at home, really and truly good, and as soon as he got out with
the other fellows he would yield to almost any temptation to mischief
that offered, and if none offered he would go and hunt one up, and would
never stop til