ve some coffee and cakes. The mob stared,
breathless. Coffee and cakes for stones and mud! This was the Gospel in a
shape that was new and bewildering to Tompkins Square. The boys took
counsel among themselves. Visions of a big policeman behind the door
troubled the timid; but the more courageous were in favor of taking
chances. When they had sidled through the open door and no yell of
distress had betrayed treason within, the rest followed to find the coffee
and the cakes a solid and reassuring fact. No awkward questions were asked
about the broken windows, and the boys came out voting the "missionary
people" trumps, with a tinge of remorse, let us hope, for the reception
they had given them. There was no more mud-slinging after that, but the
boys fell naturally into neighborly ways with the house and its occupants,
and the proposition to be allowed to come in and "play games," came from
them when the occasional misunderstandings with the policeman on the post
made the street a ticklish play-ground. They were let in, and when certain
good people heard of what was going on in Tompkins Square, they sent down
chairs and tables and games, so that they might be made to feel at home.
Thus kindness conquered the street, and that winter was founded the first
boys' club here, or, for aught I know, anywhere. It is still the Boys'
Club of St. Mark's Place, and has grown more popular with the boys as the
years have passed. The record of last winter's doings over there show no
less than 2,757 boys on its roll of membership. The total attendance for
the year was 42,118, and the nightly average 218 boys, everyone of whom,
but for the coffee and cakes of that memorable night, might have been in
the streets slinging mud.

These doings include, nowadays, more than amusements and games. They made
the beginning, and they are yet the means of bringing the boys in. Once
there, as many as choose may join classes in writing, in book-keeping,
singing, and modelling; those who come merely for fun can have all they
want, on condition that they pay their respects to the wash-room and keep
within the bounds of the house. This they do with the aid of the
Superintendent and his assistants, who are chosen from among the bigger
boys and manage to preserve order marvellously well with very little show
of authority, all considered. The present Superintendent, Mr. Tyrrell,
still nurses the memory of a pair of black eyes he achieved in the
management of a