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JAMES L, HUGHES

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GOD MADE THEM GOOD

BOOKS BY THE SAME AUTHOR

Poetry Songs of. Gladness and Growth Rainbows on War Clouds The Child's Paradise Love Memories In Nature's Temple Shrines

Prose Froebel's Educational Laws Dickens as an Educator Mistakes in Teaching Training the Children Adult and Child The Real Robert Burns

God Made Them Good

True Stories of the So-Called "Bad"

By

JAMES L. HUGHES, L.L.D.

THOMAS ALLEN

PUBLISHER TORONTO

PS 8515

598864

4. t . SST

COPYRIGHT, CANADA, 1922 By JAMES L. HUGHES

Printed by Hambly Bros. Limited TORONTO

PREFACE

MEN are beginning— and only beginning — to under- stand that "God created man in His own image." God never made a "bad" boy. The so-called "bad" are created by coercive training in the homes and schools, and by the dreadful conditions of life still permitted by society in which so many children are allowed to grow up.

No child should ever be called "bad. I hope the true stories, and other poems ofthis book, may help some men and women to substitute comradeship for coercion in training their own children so that they may keep them in the Paradise of childhood in which their soul growth should begin, and thus start them on the only path on which they can truly grow towards the divine.

Dickens' motto, "Do Justice and Honor to the nature of a child," should become the motto of all men and women.

Never lose faith in a boy or a man because he is what the thoughtless call "bad" Trust him still after each failure. Your comradeship may save him — will save him — if it is genuine comradeship based on loving sym- pathy, without a trace of condescension. Your last last trust is the one that will save him.

JAMES L. HUGHES.

INDEX

Page

God Made Them Good 9

Little Lad 10

Trust Again 11

Why He Is Bad 12

Poor Ragged Lad 14

Martha 15

Secrets of Failure 17

Study Evil Lovingly 18

The Bad Boy 19

Prisoner for Life 21

His First Offence 22

His Harp Strings Are Unstrung 24

Captain Smith, V.C 25

Ben 27

It's Hell 30

Tim's Job 31

The Thirteenth Time 34

Tim 37

The Merchant's Story 41

Bill's Christianity 44

Enterprising Billy 46

Saving Bad Sam 48

Bad Bill McBane 50

Sam Brown 60

A Vital Lesson 63

Kit 66

Bad Bob 70

Let Boyhood's Flowers Bloom 73

The Story On the Train 75

Your Neighbor 79

Marksmanship at Waterloo 80

She Failed 82

The Man Without a Soul 84

Infidel Jim 92

How to Save the So-Called Bad Boy 96

The Upright Judge (?) 99

A Truly Just Judge 102

Laws That Save and Not Degrade 104

Brave Joe 107

Mike 11°

The Soul-Dwarfing Pharisee 116

Robbed of Childhood 118

Meditations of an Old Teacher 120

The Shadowed Sister 121

Wicked Tom 123

"Dreadful Dick" 126

G

GOD MADE THEM GOOD

OD made them good,

Men made them "bad"; Help God to make

Their sad hearts glad.

God made them right;

The work for you Is, kindling them

With visions new.

God gave them power His work to do;

Some special work To make men true.

Don't call them "bad" ;

Their comrade be ; Shine out God's light

That they mby see.

T

LITTLE LAD

HOUGH you often make mistakes You're not "bad" ; You'll be wiser bye and bye, Little lad.

Never trust a man who says

You are "bad" ; You are one of God's own boys,

Little lad.

Smile at any one who tb'-"

You are "bad" ; Tell him you're a thought of God,

Little lad.

Kindled truly you'd love good

Not the "bad" ; For you are a plan of God

Little lad.

And the good will bring you joy

More than "bad" ; For God ever helps the right,

Little lad.

10

I

TRUST AGAIN

F he fail a dozen times,

What then? Trust him with a hopeful faith

Again.

Would you tell him he had failed

Before? No ! I'd show him how to try

Once more.

When his climbing towards the light

Begins, 'Tis the last trust that you gave

That wins.

If your last has failed, and hope

Seems gone; Try another last, and cheer

Him on.

Till your last last trust thrills him

With joy; Then you'll know you've helped to save God's boy.

11

T

WHY HE IS "BAD"

HINK ere you call the poor boy "bad" Because he stole ; Dwarfed is his body and deformed His guiding soul.

He had not decent birth, nor good

Environment ; Here in defiling dens and slums

His life was spent.

Impurity of air destroyed

Vitality ; Impurity of vice made life

Depravity.

He had no joyous place to play, He grew no flowers ;

What was there here to kindle him With moral powers?

He never saw the radiant gleams

Of sun at dawn; He never saw the afterglow,

When sun had gone.

He never heard the wild birds sing

In forest trees; He never felt upon his cheek

June's perfumed breeze.

12

Was it his fault that he was born Mid horrors here;

With vileness shadowing his heart And naught to cheer?

Blame not the boy. Society Must bear the blame.

We are responsible. To us Belongs the shame.

'Tis not enough to call him "bad,"

And then forget ; 'Tis not enough to heave a sigh

Of vain regret; Kindle his seeds of goodness that

Are vital yet.

13

Y

POOR RAGGED LAD

OU speak despitefully Of him, poor lad; You speak self-righteously And call him "bad."

God only knows what he

May yet become, If you will help him out

Of the foul slum.

He has unkindled powers

Yet in his heart That may grow strong for good.

Help them to start.

Strong as your faith in him

With love may glow; So strong will be your power

To help him grow.

14

MARTHA

M

ARTHA was old but her loving heart Grew younger as day by day

She won our hearts in the little school That stood near the wide, blue bay.

Others more learned there may have been,

But none have I ever known Richer in life and revealing power

To kindle our best alone.

Comrade was she in the fields and woods

Revealing life's wondrous plan; Showing how Nature's growth giving laws

Relate us to God and man.

Soon we had diamonds in the dew

And gold in the sunset sky; New were the glorious mysteries

We learned from the stars on high.

O how we studied great books, when she Their secret of uplift told! "They are the gold mines of truth," said she. She trained us to search for gold.

Reverently at the close of day

We stood as she led in prayer, Asking the Father throughout the night

To guard us from ev'ry care.

15

After long years in the old white school

Gray men and gray women met, Her boys and girls in the long ago

Who loved her memory yet.

Reverently in the graveyard then

On top of the hill we stood Round a tall shaft on whose side was told

Our story of gratitude.

When on her grave we had placed our wreaths,

We stood in a circle there, While a most eloquent preacher spoke,

And led us in hopeful prayer.

Each one recalled that, when Martha came,

The preacher, an orphan lad, Was by the pious condemned because

They said he was "awful bad."

Memory brought to each one that day

A thousand great epoch hours, When through the years seeds that Martha sowed

Bloomed forth into life's bright flowers.

And as the visions came back again

Of Martha and childhood's years, Hearts beat with joy, and tears filled our eyes,

But they were exultant tears.

16

SECRETS OF FAILURE

HE must fail in child training who day after day Tells a boy he is "bad" in the old fashioned way Till the good in his life is transformed into bad, And his power for right has been blighted, poor lad. For his badness is goodness until tyrant man Interferes with the freeness of God's child-growth plan, And the man who remembers that he was a lad, Is- the hope of the children bad trainers call "bad."

Men must fail in the training of childhood, if they Have forgotten that children are happy at play, And that all a child's goodness grows strong in the light And the warmth of his soul, when his heart-shine is

bright. The great world to him is a realm of the blest While he's free to enjoy it with childhood's keen zest, So the man who can kindle a child with true joy Has the mind of a man and the heart of a boy.

The child grows by doing — not "don'ting" and so When his doing is stopped, his best ceases to grow. Given freedom to plan, and with comradeship true With his father and mother the child loves to do What is right — not the wrong, for God made the child

. ri^h.t' And, if evil his action, 'tis proof of man's blight.

The child loves to do, not "to do what is wrong,"

For by doing his powers grow vitally strong.

17

T

"STUDY EVIL LOVINGLY" Victor Hugo

HERE is no justice without love, No vision clear of right, No balanced consciousness of truth To guide men to the light.

All evil springs from misused good;

Our problem is to see The good, and guide men's power to right

To make them truly free.

Your love may kindle hopeless souls, And change false hearts to true;

Your loving study should reveal How much they are like you.

So "study evil lovingly,"

And love misguided men That they may be in harmony

With man and God again.

18

c

THE "BAD BOY"

REATED in God's image

Was he. You must be mad To think his nature evil,

And dare to call him "bad."

You see his "badness" only ;

If you were not so blind You should have found the goodness

Of his young heart and mind.

You dare to brand him "wicked," You say he is not true, You judge him by a standard Of life he never knew.

'Tis true that he has wandered

Through gateways open wide; — What have you done to close them. Or cleaner life provide?

The joy of human kinship His heart has never known ;

No fllowers of faithful friendship In his dark soul have grown.

You teach your boy to shun him

Because he is so "bad" ; Your boy has power to win him,

And make his sad heart glad.

19

He never had the vision

Of Nature's kindling power ;

He never was God's partner In growing one sweet flower.

He never heard the music Of hemlocks on the hill;

The sky of dawn or sunset Ne'er gave him vital thrill.

Oh, yes ! You taught him morals

He never understood, Preached much about his badness,

But little of his good.

You think he must be punished Because he did the wrong ;

That will not wake his goodness, Nor help him to be strong.

Be honest, human, Christian ;

Dare not to call him "bad" ; He needs love's tender spirit,

To make him truly glad.

20

T

PRISONER FOR LIFE

ELL me, Warden, do the trees Get new leaves in May? Are there butterflies and bees? Do the lambkins play?

Are the meadows growing green?

Do the thorn trees bloom ? My dark cell for years has been

Filled with deepest gloom.

Do the merry robins sing

At the break of day? Do the church bells ever ring

In the good old way?

Do the clover fields in June Send their perfume free?

Is there witch light in the moon As there used to be?

Are the trees in autumn red?

Does the bittersweet Hang its berries overhead

Where the lovers meet ?

Warden ! till my life is o'er,

Shall I never see Beauty, as in days of yore

On the land or sea?

21

HIS FIRST OFFENCE

w

HAT are the fair lad's thoughts

There at the bar? What should we do for him,

Save him or mar?

This is an epoch day For him, poor lad ;

See his distracted look Refined and sad.

Treat the lad kindly and

Just to him be, Ours not to punish him,

Ours to make free.

Free from conditions that

Lead him astray; Free from the evil slum

And poverty.

Love the lad tenderly That he may know

Love's true enkindling power And truly grow.

He's not a criminal ;

Your own dear son Might have been guilty of

What he has done,

22

Had he been starved in heart

And body, too, Give him a chance to be

Happy and true.

Ours to guide him away

From prison bar; Ours to uplift and train;

Ours not to mar.

23

HIS HARP STRINGS ARE UNSTRUNG

IT may be true that he is mean, And selfish, and unkind,

But some parts of his soul are clean; Search closely, you will find. Pure springs of sweetness you may start To flow, and soften his hard heart.

The rock that binds his better life

Touch with your magic wand ; His sores of bitterness and strife

Heal with your loving hand ; Then in his life bright flowers will grow, And in his heart true love will glow.

He should make harmony divine —

His harp strings are unstrung; He should sing songs of faith sublime

That never have been sung. Help him to tune his harp again, And sing to cheer his fellow men.

His evil springs from misused good,

Great powers he may posses ; Help him to use them as he should

To kindle and to bless ; Then will his darkness turn to light, And weakness be transformed to might.

24

w

CAPTAIN SMITH, V.C.

HO is that hero who had the cross

Pinned on his breast to-day ? He was an outcast, when war began; "Drank like a fish" — they say.

Entered the army, and some with sneers

Said he would useless be ; Others objected to have their sons

Fighting with such as he.

But in his soul was God's image still

Ready to grow in power. War was its Spring time, and it burst forth

Into life's perfect flower.

He was "Bill Smith," in his old home town;

Hopeless, unkindled, then, Bringing but shame to his mother's heart

Shunned by his fellowmen.

"Past all believing!" you dare to sav,

"Miracle great." O, No ! He's an awakened and vital soul

Starting towards God to grow.

Tested in flames of the world's fierce war Dross has been burned away;

He is revealed as a noble man. Captain he is to-day.

25

Never before had his heart been stirred

Deeply by duty's call, But, when he heard it, he answered, "here!'

Bravely he offered all.

Fighting for liberty, justice, truth;

Fighting for home and right, All that was best in his life awoke ;

Weakness was changed to might.

Valorous, chivalrous, noble, brave;

Hero ! his comrades say. Worthy was he of the cross the K»

Pinned on his breast to-day.

26

BEN

^ ^ JUDGE, here's a boy that must be sent To jail to get hard punishment. J He asked my husband if he might Sleep in our coalshed, judge, at night.

My husband let him come, weak man —

Refuse a boy he never can.

The boy slept there a week. To-day

The coalshed roof he tore away.

He had no reason. It is sad

That any boy could be so bad.

Send him to jail, he should not be

At large destroying property."

The boy's sad face was firmly set ; No justice did he hope to get, No kindly sympathy to find; Life had been hard and men unkind. He waited doggedly to hear An unjust sentence, most severe, But kindled at the judge's tone — The kindest he had ever known. "Now tell your story, son," said he; "Don't be afraid, my boy, of me."

Then fearlessly the newsboy told His story. "Jedge, I'm ten years old. My mudder died a week ago, And I am lonely, jedge. You know. She had been sick three months, and say, I worked so hard to try to pay For medicines and doctor, too ; And it was all that I could do

27

To pay for them, and rent, and food, But mudder she was kind and good; She thanked me so for what I did. And prayed for me — her only kid. 'Twas easy, after all, to do The best I could for her. I knew She could not live, and so I tried To keep her happy till she died. One little flower I bought, for she Had very often talked to me About her mudder's garden flowers She loved so well. She'd sit for hours And look at it and sweetly smile; And sometimes smooth my hair awhile. I kept it near her bed so she Its one red flower could always see.

"Well, jedge, you see, the landlord said, 'Kid, you must go,' when she was dead. He took our fixin's for the rent, And turned me out, so, jedge, I went And asked her husband if I might Sleep in his coalshed ev'ry night. He was a decent sort to me, Jest like a prince he seemed to be; He bought his papers ev'ry day From me, and when he came to pay He took no change, and so I went To him. I wished to pay no rent. I thought if I the rent could save I'd put a stone at mother's grave. He let me in. The dame was cross; She talked like she was used to boss.

28

"But he stood pat, and said he'd be A friend, a true, kind friend to me. He said he 'loved all boys, for he Had lost his own, so, jedge, you see I love two men — jest him and you. No other men but jest you two Have seemed to care about a boy, Or help to give a fellow joy. Well, jedge, I kept the flower, but I Soon found that it began to die. There was no light, jedge, in the shed; I knew that it would soon be dead Unless it got some light, and so I took one board off. Now you know The story, jedge. I could not let That flower die. 'Twas mother's yet."

A change came in the woman's heart.

"Oh, judge!" she said, "I'll do my part

And try to be a mother true

And give a home to him, if you

Will let me keep him, and if he

Is willing my own boy to be.

I had a baby of my own;

He died, and I had selfish grown.

I hated boys because mine died,

And locked my heart in stubborn pride.

Till even love embittered me,

But with his 'love of mother' key

This boy unlocked it, and I know

'Twill shut no more. My love will grow

For him ; he'll fill my baby's place."

She clasped the boy in fond embrace.

And then a flood of loving tears

Washed out the stains of selfish years.

29

"IT'S HELL"

HE sat alone in his gloomy cell. 'Tvvas Spring again, and he longed to smell The lilac's odor upon the breeze, To hear the birds in the leafy trees, To see the flowers in the meadow glen, And walk barefoot in the stream again. But bitter tears from his sad eyes fell ; "O God !" he cried, "I am shut in hell."

In dreams he lived on the farm again; In dreams he played as a boy, and then He went to school where he saw once more The classes standing upon the floor Around the teacher. Beside him there She stood; the girl he had thought so fair. He felt his heart in his bosom swell, Then woke and said, "This is truly hell."

He sat at home on a night in May,

And watched the moon on the rippling bay,

And told his father about his plan

To do great things, when he was a man.

Once more he stood by his mother's side;

She smiled at him in her loving pride,

And told the stories he loved so well.

He wept and said, "When I think— it's hell."

He thought of all he had left undone, Of all life's triumphs he might have won, And prayed for days that could never be. "O, God ! deep down in my heart," said he, "I wish that I could be young and free To sit one hour 'neath the apple tree In June, with Katie to hear her tell Her love for me. But I'm here in hell."

30

TIM'S JOB

TIM was a truant, and so poor lad Often they told him that he was "bad." Threatened was he in the court and school, Still he defied the attendance rule; Warnings in court had no good effect ; Warnings from teachers he would neglect; Till in the end the Judge sternly said Frowning and shaking his fine gray head, "Tim, I can trust you no more, and so I have decided that you must go Out to the Truant School. Day by day You stay from school on the streets to play."

"Play!" replied Tim, "I don't play. O! no.

I have a job, and to it I go."

"Wait till you grow," said the judge, "and then

Work like a man. I will help you, when

Through with your school." "Like a man !" said Tim,

"You knew my dad, shall I work like him?

He ran away and broke mother's heart.

She was so fine, judge. She did her part;

Worked till she died. Now I am alone.

I cannot wait until I have grown.

I have a job, judge, I have to do

Mother has gone. I must see it through."

"But you must go to your school, you know

That is the law, and you have to go.

I shall send you to the Truant School

If you don't keep the attendance rule.

You are a newsboy; enough you earn

Go to your school," said the judge, "and learn."

31

"Yes, as a newsboy I pay my way, But I've a debt, judge, that I must pay. If you will give me two months, I'll be Glad to go back to the school," said he.

"Shake," said the judge, "It's a bargain, Tim," "Make out his papers," he said, "for him." "Thank you," said Tim, "you will find me true, I will come back in good time to you."

"How are you, Tim?" "I am feeling prime." These were their greetings, when Tim on time Entered the court, and with glowing pride Fearlessly walked to the judge's side. "Judge, read this paper," said he, I've won Two months have passed, and my job is done. Now I am ready to go to school Willing to keep the attendance rule. I won't forget what you've said to me. What you advised, I will try to be."

Reading the crumpled and well worn bill Brought to the heart of the judge a thrill Long did he look at the bill, till he Found what it meant, for it proved to be Long since the boy had begun to save For a tomb-stone at his mother's grave. Tireless the effort that Tim had made ; Pennies, and nickels, and dimes, he paid; Grandly he worked till success he won, Till all was paid and "his job was done."

32

Tenderly smiled the judge then at Tim, Kind was his tone, as he spoke to him. "That was 'your job' my brave boy," said he. Great is the lesson you've taught to me. 'Bad' people called you. I'm guilty, too, But I will be a good friend to you."

Tears filled the eyes of the heart stirred boy. But they were tears of soul kindling joy. "Friend! did you say. O! can it be true?" "Yes," said the judge, "a good. friend to you. How you have suffered, poor little lad ; I am ashamed that I thought you bad — You who were loving, and true, and brave — May I go with you to mother's grave?"

Out went the two, when the sun was low. There in the glory of afterglow Tim showed the grave ; and in earnest tone Spoke of his pride in his mother's stone. "She was so loving," said he, "and true I wished to show that I loved her, too."

33

N

THE THIRTEENTH TIME

O, Bob, I cannot trust you now,

Twelve times you've promised me Not to play hookey any more ; I cannot let you free."

"For I must do my duty, Bob,

I'm very sorry, too ; Three weeks ago, when you were here,

I told you what I'd do.

"I'll send you down for ninety days

To the detention farm; 'Twill keep you off the streets, and work

Won't do you any harm."

The boy burst into tears, and said, "Please, jedge, don't send me there.

O let me off; honest to God I promise to be square."

Then suddenly, as from his eyes

Tear quickly followed tear. He said, "Jedge I have got a friend,

I'd like to bring him here."

"Go get your friend," the judge replied;

Bob quickly got him then A stately gray haired judge, retired,.

Respected by all men.

34

He smiled and said, "My little friend

Says he's in trouble, so If he will just step out awhile,

I'll tell you what I know.

"His parents died, when he was young His grandma keeps the boy ;

He is a boot-black, and I fear His life has little joy.

"I like the boy, his wit is keen,

His mind is very bright, To stop and have a talk with him

Gives me sincere de-light.

"This morning, as I passed his stand, He smiled and said "A shine?"

"No, Bob," I said, "no dirty boy May ever polish mine.

"Go over to the water trough And wash your face, and then

I'll pay a quarter for your time, When you come back again."

"All right," he said, and in his eye A gleam of humor flashed;

He dashed across the street, and soon Came smiling to me, washed.

35

"I offered him the quarter, but

He merely laughed at me. "Gwan! get your hair cut, jedge, he said,

It needs it sure, I see.

"He stays away from school, I know,

To work and not to play; Send him to school half time each day

And he won't stay away.

"Put no dark shadow on his life;

Let him go free and then, I'll make the lad my special care,

He'll not come here again."

They called Bob in; his friend said, "Bob

The judge has set you free." His joy tears fell. "O jedge," he said,

"I'll prove that I will be

"Right on the square with my good friend.

The best there is in me I'll do for him, because he cares.

Just wait and you will see."

And Bob made good. The gray haired judge

Sat by his side, when he Years after won the highest rank

When getting his degree.

36

TIM

TIM stood to answer to his name His downcast face revealed his shame. His father said, "O judge, I came To say that I am not to blame,

For I have done a father's part

True Christian teaching to impart.

I have compelled him to obey

And read his bible ev'ry day.

I kept him from all sports away,

So that he would not go astray.

In church I hold a foremost place

Yet he has brought this deep disgrace.

I never thought my son would steal;

I feel" "Why tell me how you feel?"

The judge replied: "I'm here to try

To save your son. Tim, tell me why

You took the money, when you knew

Your master was so kind to you?

Tell me the reason. Have no fear;

For boys are treated justly here."

"I asked my father, judge, if he Would buy a pair of skates for me. And he refused. I needed skates To play with other boys, my mates, But father has forgotten how He felt, when young. He won't allow That I should ever play or be From his control a moment free."

"But you earn money of your own For you are sixteen — nearly grown,"

37

The judge replied, "What do you do With what your master pays to you?" "My father takes it all from me, And keeps it for himself," said he. "Stop!" said the judge, "I wish to speak, How much do you receive each week?" "Four dollars, sir, for two full years, But," and his blue eyes filled with tears, "I never had one cent," said Tim. "He made me give it all to him."

Then to the father sternly said

The judge, "I'll punish you instead

Of Tim, and make you give your boy

His rightful share of play and joy.

You say your son has brought you shame ;

You are the criminal to blame

For wrong he did. Your selfish soul

Robbed him until at length he stole.

You stole his cheques and freedom, too,

You robbed him of his right to do

The things that make a happy boy,

And fill his life with power and joy;

You robbed him of the right to play,

Though play is youth's mfost perfect way

To start the growth of life's best flowers,

And give a boy achieving powers.

There are some other fathers, too,

Who lack respect for childhood. You

Must learn to honor Tim, your son :

I'll punish you for what you've done.

That you and other fathers may

Seek for a truer, kinder way

To treat all childhood and all youth

38

Men need to learn this vital truth. I know you're rich. You did not need To keep Tim's money, 'twas your greed That made you rob him of his right. I hope to show you clearer light.

"Four hundred, sir, you took from Tim;

To start a bank account for him

Pay in two hundred dollars now,

And ev'ry week you must allow

One dollar to your son to use

In ways that he alone may choose

And you must keep and clothe him still,

And other duties, too, fulfil ;

The duties of true fatherhood

Performed by fathers, kind and good.

Now for your fine I'll charge you ten,

But if you ever come again

In such a case, I shall not fail

To send you to the county jail."

Then to the youth he kindly said "Forget the past and look ahead. I've spoken to your rriaster, Tim, You'll pay the money back to him; He'll let you stay in his employ Trust him, and he'll trust you, my boy. If you're in trouble, I will aid; Come straight to me, be not afraid."

Life to poor Tim brought vision new, And he had clearer, truer, view Of right and duty, and their light Guided him upward to life's height,

39

Till he achieved success supreme Beyond his boyhood's brightest dream. The judge had kindled him that day; His father learned the better way; His master wisely guided him; And life gave hope and faith to Tim.

With tongue and pen he tries to show How he was saved from overthrow, And pleads that children may be free To climb to life's true destiny, With loving elder comrades who With higher insight, clearer view Respect the child's own sacred powers And blight no buds of life's best flowers.

40

THE MERCHANT'S STORY

AN old policeman came to me : "I came to warn you, sir," said he ; "You have a wayward, wicked boy, Just out of jail, in your employ. I am a Christian man, and so I thought it right that you should know."

"Tell me," I said, "about his case." "I will," said he; "he's a disgrace; Lives on my street ; I know him well And all about him I can tell. His father drank himself to death ; For years he drew no sober breath. His mother worked away from home, So on the street she let him roam. I often told her that her son Would into downward courses run. I tried my best to be his friend, And told him how it all would end. I am an officer, and know How to the bad such boys must go. I saw him steal some cakes one day And round the corner run away. I caught him, and I had him sent To jail. I told him to repent, But I'm afraid he never will — I think he's hard and wilful still."

"Sit down," I said, "and let me tell His story. I, too, know it well. His honest mother bravely tried To labor, when his father died,

41

To keep her son at school, that he Might grow an honest man to be. You made him hate the law and you. You ne'er a kindly deed did do To warm his heart with human glow, Or brighten up his life of woe. His mother's heart, already sad, You broke by tales about her lad. When she grew sick 'twas for her sake He stole the cakes you saw him take. She starved and died. To jail you sent Her son! 'Tis you who should repent."

"A man whose heart has human glow, Who goes to jail and tries to show The children that they have one friend On whom they truly may depend, Told me the story of the boy Whose childhood had so little joy. I saw him — looked in his blue eye, And heard his broken-hearted cry Because he never more could see His mother; so I asked if he Would be my boy and live with me. I met him when he was set free And took him home, my boy to be."

"You cannot trust that boy," said he. "You'll find I'm right, sir; wait and see." "Oh, yes," I said, "I'll trust him, so His better life may truly grow. My faith in him will help to start His faith in me, then in his heart The seeds of faith in higher powers

42

Will grow and blossom into flowers.

No fetters round his soul I'll bind;

I'll be his partner, just and kind;

You call yourself a Christian! Shame!

To so degrade Christ's sacred name.

What Christ-like action did you take

To keep the boy's best power awake?

Was he to blame because he had

No father's guidance when a lad?

In rags you saw him on the street;

You knew he had not food to eat.

Would Christ have chased a boy like him,

Whose pleading eyes with tears were dim,

Because he took a cake to save

His starving mother from the grave?

You caught the boy and sent him where

His soul was filled with deep despair.

Would Christ have done so ? No ! He gave

His life that He such boys might save.

And, when you found that he was here,

You- did not come his heart to cheer:

You came to rob him of his right

To work, and have a life more bright.

Christ would have come the bo'y to bless

With love, and hope, and happiness.

Humanity must learn to be

More kind and just to such as he."

43

BILL'S CHRISTIANITY

SIX hundred dollars fine for each," The justice said; "the court must teach All men the law they must obey, And if the fine they cannot pay Two years each one must go to jail." The elder prisoner turned pale. His eyes were filled with blinding tears ; "Oh, Judge !" he said, "not two long years ! Be merciful and let me free; I have a wife and children three — They'll starve, if I must go to jail. Give me a chance. I will not fail. I'll work, and save the fine to pay. Oh ! let me free, kind judge, I pray." The judge, with sympathetic glow, Looked down, but gravely answered, "No !"

The younger man, upon whose face Were records sin alone could trace, Stood up. Spectators whispered, "He Sent down for ten long years should be To be reformed, and to have time To think about his life of crime." The youth's stern face relaxed. Said he, "I'll pay your fine ; you shall go free. I have eight hundred dollars, so You take it, dear old chum ; I'll go To jail. I have no family; I'll gladly take what comes to me."

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A sudden cheer rang out which showed That hearts approving warmly glowed. A lawyer rose. "My lord," said he, "I think all present will agree That Bill has shown himself a man Too good to lose. I have a plan To prove to him that we can be As generous and true as he. I am not willing to stand by And see him go to jail, so I Propose that we do now unite To help him triumph in his fight Until he overcomes the wrong That makes him weak instead of strong. He has two hundred left, and we Can raise the rest and set him free."

Throughout the court cheers rang again. The judge with deep emotion then Arose and said, "Let each one stand Who'll give brave Bill a helping hand." All leaped and shouted joyously ; They raised the money ; Bill was free. He rose and said, "Friends, I declare You'll find us true ; we will be square."

Then spoke the judge in solemn tone, "Dear friends," he said, "I gladly own That Bill's example here to-day Has kindled me and shown the way To clearer vision of Christ's plan To save my erring brother-man."

45

I

ENTERPRISING BILLY

NTO the court a farmer led Young Billy by the ear. "What is the matter," said the Judge, "That you bring Billy here?"

"He stole my horse and buggy, Judge,

He should be sent to jail." The Judge said, "Billy, I'm surprised,

But let me hear your tale."

"I did not steal them, Judge," said Bill,

I borrowed them, vou see Now that the street car strike is on,

I thought that it would be

"All right to drive a lady home,

While he was in the store. Why, Judge, since first the strike began

I've driven sixty-four.

"I brought the horse and buggy back, So why should he complain?

I did not mean to steal them, Judge; I think that's very plain."

"What did you charge the lady, Bill "A quarter, Judge, and say

I charge them all the same, and they Are glad the cash to pay.

46

j"

"I bought a lot, and if the strike

Lasts long, I'll own it, too. See here's my record, as I paid ;

It shows I'll soon be through."

"Bill does not understand the law

Of ownership, but he Should make a fine man," said the Judge

"So I will set him free.

"I'll teach the law to feim, and help

So bright a lad to be Good as he'.- bright." The farmer said

"With you, Judge, I agree.

"I'm sorry that I brought him here — No ! Judge, I'm glad, for you

Have taught me how to treat a boy." Then Bill said, "I'm glad, too."

47

s

SAVING "BAD" SAM

TEALING watermelons, eh! Why did you do it son?" "Wrong, judge, not watermelons, I took just only one."

"But, boy, you know you stole it;

Your downward course begun May lead you yet to prison."

The boy's eyes gleamed with fun.

"Say, judge," he said, "now honest, When you were just a boy,

Did you ne'er steal a melon? If not you missed some joy."

The judge looked stern and answered,

"You must not be so rude ; Go to my room and wait, sir, And think in solitude,

"Until the court is over,

And I will see you then ; I hope you will decide, sir,

Not to come here again."

Sam sadly thought and wondered

If he'd be sent to jail, And ere the judge came to him,

His heart began to quail.

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The judge said, "Sam I like you.

Your question hit me square ; I know you're poor, so let me

With you your sentence share.

"When I was but a youngster,

I stole a melon, too; I think I am, entitled

To partnership with you.

"I'm glad you did not fear me,

I like your merry wit, And when you asked your question,

You made a 'bull's-eye' hit.

"I'll pay him for his melon, You paty me when you can ;

Let's shake, Sam, I will trust you To be a gentleman.

"If ever you're in trouble

Be sure to come to me, And I a decent partner

Will surely try to be."

Sam's clear blue eyes grew misty, "O! judge," said he, "your're it;

You've hit me in my heart spot, And I will do my bit."

49

T

BAD BEUi, MCBANE

HERE is no good in bad McBane" The papers said, "He'll never stop his evil course Until he's dead."

Eighteen years old ; He had been sent

Down thirty times To punish him for wickedness,

And stop his crimes.

His many sentences had been

Always severe, Yet they had failed to check him in

His wild career.

The preachers told his waywardness

And evil deeds, And taught coercive terror of

Their training creeds,

But preached not of Christ's comradeship

And tenderness, And did no worthy act of love

The boy to bless.

So through unlighted years without

A guide, he grew Defiant of all law ; planned evil acts

And did them, too.

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He grew more reckless, as the years

Went swiftly past ; And bolder, till he robbed the mail,

One night at last.

The trial came, his guilt was clear.

In language stern The Judge expressed the power of law

"You'll have to learn,"

He said, "the power of law's strong arm,

So you will be Sent down three years, for far too long

You have been free.

"Hard labor you will do, you'll learn

Some useful trade, And learn, too, if you're wise, that law

Must be obeyed."

Coercion was the only plan The old Judge knew

To set a human soul to work, And make it true.

Bill reached his cell untamed, without

One love-lit light In his dwarfed soul, or untrained mind

To make life bright.

51

The head of all the prisons asked

That he might see "Bad Bill," and told him he would help

To get him free

Before three years, if he would try

His best to do. He spoke as man to man should speak

With purpose true.

"Bill, I will let you choose the work

You'd like to do, Said he, and aid you to succeed,

My faith in you

"Is strong, and if you choose the work

You like the best You'll happy be, and life will have

For you new zest."

Bill chose to work in wood; the chief

Said "come with me." He took Bill through the prison shops

And let him see

All kinds of woodwork, till Bill chose

The turner's art. He thanked the chief for sympathy;

Then in his heart

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The long closed fountains of his good

Began to flow, And visions of a happy life

Began to glow.

Bill said, "You are the first I've known

Who treated me With kindness, and I'll prove to you

That I can be

"A grateful man. I'll do my best

All life seems new. I thank you, sir, for the great hope

I owe to you."

The chief clasped tight Bill's hand, and said

In tender tone ; "I'll always treat you lad, as if

You were my own."

Bill quickly learned the turner's art

And learned it well ; His steady aim each day was that

He might excel.

To tread life's pathway to the heights

He had begun ; His hope was that the chief might praise

The work he'd done.

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The days passed, slowly till the chief

Came back again ; His loving smile thrilled Bill's deep heart

With rapture then.

The sweetest music of his life

Bill heard that day; Kind words of praise and helpfulness

The chief did say;

And he had brought a book for Bill

That told how men, The world called "bad," had fallen low

But rose again.

Bill read it through and wrote the chief,

With purpose high, "To win the victory they won

Dear chief, "I'll try."

When plots were made the guards to seize

That all might go Out free, Bill was the only one Who answered "No"

When asked to join, "I'll serve my time"

He said, "and be A man whom all men should respect,

When I go free."

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They threatened him, they sneered at him;

He dared to stand Alone, and face the angry mob

With courage grand.

Their plotting failed, and Bill's true course

High praise had won. The chief reported to the Judge

What Bill had done.

And found a place for Bill to work

At his own trade; So Bill was freed, and not too soon

The change was made.

His father old, and weak, and poor,

Lay very ill; His mother to her loving breast

Welcomed her Bill.

Bill's master was surprised to find

A workman true In Bill, an expert at his trade

Who longed to do

His best, and loved his work, because

It made him glad To form things beautiful and be

Good Bill— not "bad."

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When Bill to prison had been sent

Another lad , Was said to follow in his steps

And be as bad.

Till in the court for juveniles

A wise, kind man Became the Judge. He introduced

A novel plan.

He found a place for each young man

Charged with a crime, To work, if one would come for him

Each day in time

To take him home, and be his friend,

And keep him free From evil, and enkindle him

By sympathy.

When "Bad Bill" heard that "Bad McGee"

Was sentenced, he Went promptly of his own accord

The judge to see,

And said, if you accept me, sir,

The friend I'll be, And bondsman for the conduct of

"Bad Dick MeGee."

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"I'll meet him, sir, and take him home

From work each night ; I'll try to guide him from the wrong

And lead him right.

"The prison chief, I think, will give

A bond for me, He is the man who led me right,

And set me free.

"He was the first to offer me

A friendly hand, And showed respect for me, 'bad Bill,'

I think he's grand.

"Now I would like to honor him,

And help young men Who have gone wrong to love the path

Of right again."

The judge approved; Dick's friend and guide

"Bad Bill" became; Each did his duty well, and won

An honored name.

Bill's love helped Dick, but better still

It helped Bill too, To find his power by guiding Dick

To be more true.

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It gave his life rare happiness,

And vision1 new Of work that for his fellowmen

He yet might do.

Coercion's heartlessness had filled Their hearts with fear,

But comradeship gave vital power And faith sincere.

O'er their dark souls bright service stars

Began to shine That lit their souls with vital hope

And light divine.

And so they grew as men must grow

Who try to do Each day the work revealed to them

In visions new.

Until the chief invited them

To meet one day To plan for other wayward boys

Who'd gone astray.

The judge was there and asked their aid

For other boys Who needed guidance into paths

Of life's true joys.

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And there was formed a comrade band

Grand work to do For wayward boys, by judge and chief,

And the "bad" two.

A vital man for Christ, was Bill,

The "bad" young man, Saved not by punishment but Christ's

Own loving plan.*

♦In 1922 "Bad Bill"— the so called "wicked young man" was sent by his city in charge of twenty-seven wards of the court to give them a camping holiday.

59

SAM BROWN

WE said, when we spoke of Sam Brown, "He is lazy," And some people thought that he must be quite crazy. He lived by himself in a shack near the river, And looked like a rat with an ossified liver. He never went out to a Church on a Sunday, But worked on as if Sabbath day was a Monday. He kept to himself so, and acted so oddly, We thought him uncivil, unrighteous, ungodly. He'd scarcely look up on the road, when we met him, But acted as if he feared Old Nick would get him. We knew very little about the old fellow, But thought that his skin and his heart were both yellow.

There came a great day, when each one of us gladly Confessed that we always had misjudged Sam badly.

One morning in Spring, when the river had risen, And burst the ice bonds of its winter locked prison, An ice jam had formed which was rapidly growing. The freshet far over the farm lands was flowing. The left bank was low , so the river ran o'er it, And swept away cattle and houses before it. One house carried down by the freshet was landed Not far from the jam on a rise, and left stranded, And on the flat roof, each one clasping the other, Both screaming for help, sat a girl and her brother. The crowd that soon gathered stood helplessly waiting. The small chance of saving the children debating. No one had much hope. We were weak and despairing. Sam Brown went away seeming not to be caring. He drove to the town, and then back he soon hurried. We still were there hopelessly, helplessly worried.

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Sam said very firmly, "I'll very soon right it, Go up the hill quickly, and I'll dynamite it." We stood on the hill. Some were doubting, some praying, While Sam fixed his fuse on the ice jam, displaying His courage and skill. Then he came up serenely, And said as he watched the ice jam very keenly "That charge the great ice jam will very soon shatter." It did and we cheered, when we saw that the water First rushed down in torrents, then quietly glided, Until from the farmlands the freshet subsided.

Then Sam said, "Will some one get ready two dinners, WThile I go to get those two poor little sinners." I went to the rescue with him very gladly, And when we returned to the crowd they cheered madly, They joyously gathered round Sam all expressing Their gratitude deep, and all praying that blessing From heaven might be his to forever attend him, And from all life's evil to ever defend him.

And then I addressed them, as I was their pastor ; And tears from their eyes followed faster and faster, As I with emotion confessed most sincerely, That I was mistaken in Sam, but now clearly Saw he was a man of true courage and kindness, And asked his forgiveness for all our past blindness. "I'm sorry we misunderstood, but I claim Sam, I said, smiling kindly, "that you are to blame, Sam. You <ty& not seem willing to be a good neighbor, And share in our worship, or pleasure, or labor." Then Sam Brown leplied in a tone of deep sadness, "I've had little chance since I came here for gladness. My heart has been sorrowful — none came to cheer me. I've often been sick but no neighbor came near me. By comrade-like friendship I have not been greeted,

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My heart was made hard by the way I was treated.

I lost in the Yukon my money in mining

My wife I lost, too; but why go on repining?

I came here away from the hard world to settle,

Because my misfortunes had weakened my mettle.

I hoped for a rest among sociable neighbors.

To cheer me, and love me, and lighten my labors.

I longed for companions, congenial and human,

But found when I came, that each man and woman

Looked coldly at me, and no fellowship tendered ;

And never since then has a service been rendered

By any one here to relieve my dejection,

Or show that for me he had human affection.

My faith in my fellows was terribly shaken,

And that is the reason that you are mistaken

In me. I am glad that to-day, honored pastor,

My knowledge of dynamite helped me to master

The ice jam, and render a service to others,

For O ! I have missed the hand grip of my brothers."

Then all shook his hand, and gave three happy cheers, And our eyes and his eyes o'erflowed with love's tears. I said, "Sam, you've taught a fine lesson to me; My duty, I know, I can more clearly see. Forgive us ; be one of us ; help us, that we More friendly, more neighborly ever may be.

62

I

A VITAL LESSON

went to tell Dick's mother About her wayward lad ; That he must be suspended From school he was so "bad."

I found her in a garret

Down in a narrow street ; She stood before her wash tub

With baby at her feet.

I said "I am Dick's teacher," "I'm glad you came," said she,

"I'm proud to be the mother Of such a son as he."

"His father died last winter, He had been two years sick ;

But Dick has been my helper, A fine boy is my Dick.

"He starts to sell his papers Before the rooster crows,

Then eats his well earned breakfast And whistling off he goes.

"After the school is over

He works from four to eight,

And Saturdays till midnight. O, my dear Dick, he's great !

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"I thank you for your visit, I hope you'll come again ;

You must be very happy In making boys good men."

I could not give the message

I went to give, so I Just said, "Tell Dick I'm sorry

He was not here, good bye."

For when I heard her story Of what her boy had done,

I knew I was a failure In training such a son.

I knew that I had never

Dick's best life understood;

I thought him "bad," his mother Had proved that he was good.

I learned a vital lesson From her that epoch day ;

I went a thoughtless teacher; Transformed, I came away.

I learned I could not kindle True soulhood with a stick ;

I'd studied how to govern ; Henceforth I'll studv Dick.

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That day I said, "I'll never

Coerce a child again," And since I have been happy

In aiding "to make men."

I told Dick all the story

Of what I went to do, And how it made me happy

To find he was so true.

I asked him to forgive me For wrongs that I had done,

And his bright smile and hand clasp Showed that his heart was won.

We spoke about his mother,

About the baby, too ; We spoke about his future,

And each had vision new ; We pledged a lifelong friendship ;

We still are comrades true.

65

KIT

THE Church condemned you, Kit, I know And threatened you with endless woe, But you were wise and calmly smiled, When selfish Pharisees reviled Because vou said, "No narrow creeds That did not lead to loving deeds Of service, could Christ's teaching be To make men's souls serene and free."

They did not dare deny that you

In life and deed were ever true.

When men fought bravely for the right,

You were a leader in the fight

Against all forms of evil might,

And for the truth that guides to light.

When men were sad you dried their tears ;

When they were glad you led their cheers;

To those on beds of sickness laid

You were the first to offer aid,

And anxious mothers welcomed you

To watch their dear ones, for they knew

Your heart was tender, and your hand

Responded to your heart's command.

Once, when I had an accident

And lay unconscious, Kit, you went

To bring the doctor. When he said

That I was injured in the head

And might not wake for days, 'twas you

Who sat by me the long night through.

While I unconscious lay and slept

Beside my bed you vigil kept.

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I woke at morn, and seated there I saw you, and your anxious care Changed into joyous gladness, when You heard me speak your name again. Your happy face I'll ne'er forget, Your cheerful voice is ringing yet Deep in my heart, and still I see Your friendly smile, when memory Recalls the past, and I review The manly men my boyhood knew.

They called you "infidel," but you

Were seeking ever for the true.

In men and books you tried to find

The highest truth with open mind.

You were a man, and I a boy,

And yet you told me of the joy

That filled your heart, when first you knew

A preacher with a higher view.

A man of power, deep and wise,

So broad that he could recognize

Your right to differ honestly

From him and yet a Christian be.

You reverently said, "Why, Jim,

He's great, I cannot answer him.

He speaks profoundly, and he tells

The deepest thought of infidels

More clearly than they do themselves

In the best books upon their shelves ;

And then he proves that they are wron?-

By arguments convincing, strong,

Unanswerable, so that we,

Man's Godward destiny may see."

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O, Kit ! If those who made a claim

To teach you in the Master's name

Had even faintly understood

His teachings as all Christians should;

If they had tried your love to win,

Preached more of service — less of sin;

Spoke less of badness — more of right;

Thought less of darkness — more of light;

If they had taught each man to see

That he had special power to be

God's representative, for He

Had given each some power, and we

Were thoughts of God, with power in trust,

And not "unworthy worms of dust";

If they had taught the unity

Of all mankind — and each one free —

Christ's basic universal plan,

The vital brotherhood of man ;

What untold good they might have done!

What victories they might have won!

But narrow creeds and selfishness

Robbed them of power to truly bless,

Christ's laws they did not follow, when

They dealt with weak and wayward men.

The erring ones they did condemn

And gave no sympathy to them ;

And, if a woman ever fell,

They made her life a living hell.

A worthy, pure and trusting maid, Believed the vow her lover made, And found, too late, she was betrayed, He left her with a tarnished name, / And not one kindly Christian came

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To ease the burden of her woe Or Christian sympathy to show. They thought their duty fully done, If they the erring one did shun. They treated her as one defiled, And ostracised her and her child. They spoke no word of tenderness, But raged about her wickedness.

You were the noble man who saw The inhumanity of law That robs a soul of hope's clear light, And dooms it to eternal night Eecause of one false step, and tries To cloud forever life's bright skies. And, when — defying gossip's sneer You nobly tried her heart to cheer, And proved yourself her friend sincere, Who could her womanhood revere, And married her — the pharisees Against you hurled their stern decrees; But friends, who knew you to be just, Approved your act of love and trust, And passing years brought friendship true And earth's best happiness to you.

One eve you watched the sunset sky;

And said, "Dear wife, I hope that I

May go as does the setting sun,

When day is past and work is done,

And leave behind me as I go

In loving hearts bright afterglow."

You fell. Our cheeks with tears grew wet,

Your sun behind life's hill had set;

But on the skies of memory

Your heart's warm glow we still can see.

69

"BAD BOB"

BECAUSE he did not keep the rules Of Public or of Sunday Schools Bob was expelled from both, and told He'd be "a wicked man when old." Expulsion is a senseless plan First practised by some foolish man Who could not make a boy do right By using his coercive might. Bob to another school was sent. His teacher told him to repent Of his great wickedness, and be A better boy in school, or he Would be expelled again, and find He'd go through life with vacant mind. Bob for his past had no regret, His heart had not been kindled yet, For the poor boy had only met From teachers force, reproof, and threat; So he was soon suspended once And told he was "a silly dunce." The second time a warning came That from the register his name Would be officialy erased, And he once more would be disgraced, Unless he would the rules obey, And walk "the straight and narrow way." Bob's heart was still untouched, so he Soon earned suspension number three.

The principal addressed the school, And said "all knew the rigid rule ; — The third suspension for misdeeds To sure expulsion always leads."

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He said "his heart was very sad, Because Bob Jones had been so 'bad And that '"his wicked ways must mend Or he would reach a dreadful end In prison for some awful crime Before he even reached his prime." Bob listened with a sullen face And steeled his heart against disgrace. Unmoved was he. With solemn tone And threat he had familiar grown; His eye was steady, cold, and clear;' His lip curled in disdainful sneer; Serene in outcast solitude, Defiant in his attitude.

The awful sentence was begun, But ere the principal was done', The teacher of the highest grade Arose and this proposal made : — "Most worthy principal," said he, "It hurts me deeply, sir, to see A boy expelled from school, and I Like Bob, and would be glad to try Him in my class. He is, I know, At present two full forms below. While playing in the yard, I find He is a leader strong and kind. If he will play the game inside As well, our hearts will glow with pride Please let me try himj. When a lad Like Bob some people called me 'bad.' No boy is 'bad' ; we'll prove this true,' Most worthy principal, if you Will let Bob show what he can do When kindled with a purpose new."

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Loud were the cheers the boys gave, when The principal agreed, and then The sullen look and scornful sneer Passed from Bob's face, as stepping near The master kind, he grasped his hand, And, when his voice he could command, Said, "I'll be square sir. You are just, And I'll be worthy of your trust."

Some thoughtless people yet believe

That pulpils never should receive

Promotion to a higher class

Till they examinations pass.

Bob skipped two classes in a year.

When kindled he had made it clear

That he was leader of the boys

In studies, as in sporting joys.

All evil springs from misused good ;

"Bad Bob" had been misunderstood,

But, when his heart was kindled, he

Responded with fidelity.

And life transforming loyalty

To kindly, manly sympathy,

He, when awakened, quickly grew

In learning and in wisdom, too ;

His frozen powers in love's warm glow

In healing streams began to flow.

72

LET BOYHOOD'S FLOWERS BLOOM

I

HAVE a boy just four years old The worst I've ever known. He is my only child, and I Have lived for him alone.

"I was a teacher so I know Just how to train a child."

At that I turned my head away And coughed, and broadly smiled.

"A preacher told me once," she said, "That he was not born bad,"

But I know better, for my boy No chance has ever had

"To learn bad things from other boys ;

I kept all boys away From him. He never left my sight.

I never let him play.

"Now what would you advise?" said she.

I looked her in the eye, And calmly said with earnestness

"Are you prepared to die ?

"There is no other way to give

Your boy a chance to grow In body, mind, or heart, if you

Are not prepared to go.

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"Unless you let your child be free

And be a real boy Without an intermeddler near

To rob him of his joy.

"He never had a boy's true play;

He never has been free To plan and then achieve his plans,

And learn to do and be

"What God meant boys to do and be

To kindle their best powers, And make the seeds of happiness

Become Life's perfect flowers.

"You turn his joy to bitterness;

His love you turn to hate ; And then blame God for your own crimes.

O learn before too late,

"That God gave you a child well made

With powers that never die ; You have prevented their true growth

And yet you wonder why

"Your boy does evil. You must learn

That evil is but good Misused. Your son is God's own boy

By you misunderstood.

"Fear not the evil. God still lives.

Your boy will not go wrong, If freely in his life you let

His good grow truly strong."

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THE STORY ON THE TRAIN

OUT in the smoking-room of the train, Rushing along o'er the western plain, Past the ripe fields of the golden grain Men told sad stories of sin and pain. Stories of mothers whose hair turned gray Mourning for sons who had gone astray. Hopeless and faithless the stories were Darkened by shadows of deep despair.

Spoke then a man who was kind and true, Hopeful and happy, and human, too ; 'Evil is weak, and the good is strong; God never fights on the side of wrong. Hard is the battle that man must fight If he has wandered away from right, But, with the help of his fellow-men, Hope will return to his heart again." "Yes ! There are criminal men, I know, Men who grow worse as they older grow. God made these men on His perfect plan ; Burned on their souls is the brand of man. Man-made are they by bad training — then Mad-made by boyhood in city den ; Man-made by hardness in court and jail; Man-made until life seemed sure to fail ; Man-made by those who refused to give Work to a 'jail-bird' that he might live; Man-made bythose who with threat and gloom Solemnly warned them of coining doom ; Man-made because decent men like you Waked not their best with a hand-clasp true ;

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Offered no kinship to start anew Love in their hearts and give hopeful view. Yet they are men and your love and mine Starts a faith-light in their hearts to shine."

"Jim was in jail. I first saw him there Sullen and gloomy. He did not care What might be done by the court to him, Facing life's future with aspect grim. I was attracted to him. He came From my own birthplace. I learned his name, Heard his past life, and his steps astray Till he had stolen. He meant to pay Back the amount, but he failed, and so He was arrested. I said, 'I know Father and mother, school friends were they; Gladly the money you took, I'll pay.' Paid it; and then to the judge we went, Employer and I, and got consent Granting the right to withdraw the case. Saved was the lad from the dread disgrace. Then with the order that made him free Back to the jail I returned, and he Gladly came out to my home with me. 'Mother won't know' was the song of joy Sung in the heart of the grateful boy."

"Far in the West lives a friend of mine, Manager there of a silver mine. Out to his home I took Jim with me ; Told Jim's full story, and asked that he Give Jim a place that he might regain Faith in himself and outgrow his stain. Grateful was Jim, when I came away,

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Heartfully hopeful that Autumn day. Promise he made to be wise and true, Honestly made it and kept it, too. Three years he kept it, and then he fell. Telegrams came from my friend to tell He had gone wrong." "As you might have

known," Spoke out a man in a hard, cold tone; "All of them fail." "No ! Jim won his fight- Won it through kindness. I went that night. He was surprised when he saw me there." "I had no hope, sir, that you would care; You cannot trust me. I'm weak at best." "Trust you !" I said ; "you have stood the test. Think never more of your weakness, Jim; Think of your strength, and the love of Him, Ever forgiving and ready to give Purpose and power more nobly to live. Three years you fought your hard fight and

won. Gladly Til trust you. What you have done Proves you are worthy of trust, and so Back to my city with me you'll go. I have a place in my store for you. I have no fear you will not be true."

"Did you reprove him for what he'd done ?"

"No! I recounted his triumphs won

Over his evil. I made him glad;

Hope cannot bloom when the heart is sad.

Censure and blame are but canker blight ;

Cheering enkindles the soul's faith-light.

"Ten years have passed now since Jim came

back, Still he is walking life's faith-lit track

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Honest and manly — his mother's pride. She lives with him since his father died. Married is he to a charming wife, Leader is he in our city's life. Chum of the wayward, the guilty, the sad. Shining his heart-light to make them glad."

"If in the future he fail, what then?" "Comrade and partner I'll be again."

78

Y

YOUR NEIGHBOR

OU say your neighbor is not true.

You might, perhaps, have clearer view Of him, my friend, if you but knew Just what your neighbor thinks of you.

God made him right, and it is sad, If he is now what you call "bad." What kindness has your neighbor had From you to make his life more glad .J

You think that he has selfish grown ; Perhaps no friendship he has known. What act of yours has ever shown Your heart congenial to his own ?

What thoughtful deed of helpfulness Have you performed, his home to bless That would your fellowship express. Or help to soothe him in distress,

Your human touch may start the glow Of deepest joy that he can know, And fill his heart to overflow' With love — so that his best may grow ;

And you will gain e'en more than he ; Each act of service makes you free, And gives you greater power to see The glory of man's destiny.

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A

MARKSMANSHIP AT WATERLOO

N English veteran one day

Told two young lads this startling tale To prove that British men can not Be beaten ; that thev never fail.

"We British always win, you know.

If you will read of Waterloo, You'll find Lord Wellington at first

Knew not whatever he could do.

"The Frenchmen were all covered o'er With armour; why a cannon ball

Would knock one down, but up again He'd rise uninjured by his fall,

"And fight again, until at length

We caught one, and we found the hole

Between the armour plates behind, And then we won. Why bless my soul !

"You should have seen the British boys Mow down the Frenchmen just like hay.

WTe shot our bullets through the holes, And that was how we won the day."

His story does not rest on fact,

But it suggests a vital truth, And I have told it now to you,

That you may help some erring youth,

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Whom you, good friend, may still call "bad" Whom you think triple plated o'er

With evil armor, till you say

"'Tis vain to try to help him more."

If you will but examine him

You'll find his armour has some hole Through which your love light may shine in

To waken his unkindled soul.

Then he will love and trust you, till

Enkindled by the love divine, He longs to climb life's upward path

Made clear to him by your love shine.

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SHE FAILED

THERE never were such horrid boys In all the world, I know, They make such noises I can't teach ; They shout, they sing, they crow. I will not stay another day With children who will not obey.

"I've punished them, and punished them,

But they are just as bad, Their mischief-making deviltry

Will surely make me mad. I will resign, and let them see They cannot act that way with me."

Then the inspector calmly said,

"Dear lady you are wrong; The blame for what you say of them,

Does not to them belong. For boys were never yet the cause, That led to disrespect for laws.

"Boys love the laws of games, and if

They're wisely ruled in schools, Their love of law develops there

Respect for all good rules, And law becomes respect for right Through life a guiding moral light.

"Directive — not restrictive law

All children love, until Some tyrant dares in home or school

Respect for law to kill By robbing them of freedom. They .Learn then to dare to disobey.

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"You punished them. It did no good.

It did do lasting harm; — You might have won them in an hour

With kindly, loving charm. You've many powers to help and save, You used the one that must deprave.

"God gave you power of heart and mind

To kindle and uplift — His highest gift to human souls —

You do not use that gift. You have a hundred powers to charm ; You basely use your strong right arm.

"Coercion is an evil thing

That cannot kindle souls. And souls unkindled never rise

To reach life's highest goals. Coercion is your lowest power. Plant seeds of love, and let them flower.

"The powers your pupils use for wrong

Should bring them happiness. x\ll evil springs from misused good;

Develop — don't depress. Guide all their powers to work for right ; Misused — these powers their lives will blight."

83

A

THE MAN WITHOUT A SOUL

MAN without a soul, is he

A thief, a murderer, unclean, A menace to society

Base, lustful, brutal, vile, obscene."

Thus spoke the preachers, and the press,

And officers of law of one Whose heart was full of hate, and who

No kindly deed had ever done.

His age was thirty-two, and half His wicked life in jail was spent,

He stole a suit, when but sixteen And for ten years to jail was sent.

Released when eight sad years had passed, He was for four months free, and then

He stole once more, and was condemned To jail for eight long years again.

The eight years passed. At thirty-two The jail gates opened; he was free;

Free his wild wicked life to lead ; In hateful crimes and deviltry.

His desperate and daring deeds

Recorded by the Press brought fame ;

Mad riot filled his heart with pride. He gloried in his sin and shame.

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A few months passed and he was charged ^ With murder ; tried ; condemned ; and sent To jail to die. Men praised the law; The world moved on and was content.

Father, mother, sister, brother

Took their own lives, thus left alone,

Without a home, without a friend The little child grew up alone.

He never went to school. The State Neglected him, until he grew

Defiant of the law, and then

It punished him. All the State knew

About the growth of wayward souls, To kindle them and make them true,

Was punishment ; it did not try

To light dark souls with visions new.

It sent an erring boy to jail,

Where he might learn from hardened men The paths that lead to baser crimes,

And walk in them when free again.

l8«

And so the erring boy grew worse, Till all his nature's brightest flowers

Were blighted; and in evil ways

He used his brighest, noblest powers.

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All evil springs from misused good ;

Perverted powers work basest deeds As richest soil where flowers should grow

Produces rankest poison weeds.

God gave "The Man Without a Soul" A soul. A soul that guided right

Should have wrought noble deeds for God. And aided men to climb life's height.

But his perverted, unlit soul

Warped all his powers for good, and he Became a leader for the wrong;

A criminal, God's enemy.

And when the wreckage of his soul Startled the world with wickedness

No man had faith in him and none Did any deed his heart to bless.

They read about the "Soul-less Man" Each day ; his fierce wild look of hate ;

The shocking things he said and did; And calmly left him to his fate,

Until a gentle woman's heart

Was filled with tenderness, and she

Went to the jail with hope and asked That she the criminal might see.

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The doubting sheriff fearful went And asked the "soul-less man" to be

As decent as he could, if he To see the lady would agree.

He promised and the lady went.

She kindly said "I came, dear boy, To help you if I can. I know

Your life has brought you little joy.

"You've had no mother's love, and I Would like to be a mother kind,

And tell you of the greatest friend A human heart can ever find.

I brought a book, and it will tell You of the wondrous life of one

Who died that you might happy be ; Jesus our Christ, God's loving son.

She sweetly told the love of Christ The Saviour who made all men free,

Till anxiously the young man said "Would Jesus love a crook like me?"

"Oh, yes !" she said, "if you will pray And ask Him, He your friend will be."

The young man bowed his head and prayed "Dear Jesus, help a crook like me."

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She marked the bible for him then And prayed for him as for her own,

He tightly held her hand, and said, "You are the only friend I've known.

"Oh, come again ! Come ev'ry day And read and pray, and you will find

That I a gentleman will be

With one so gentle, true and kind."

She promised, and returned next day.

He welcomed her with joyous tone And called her "mother." She replied

"Dear son, I'll love you as my own."

He handed her the bible then,

And said, "Please watch, and I will try To say the verses that you marked,

They'll make me happy, when I die.

"Mark other places. I will learn Each day the verses that you mark.

They'll light the places in my soul That but for you would still be dark.

"For now I know I have a soul.

Dear mother it was dark as night Until you came and with your love

First turned its darkness into light.

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"Mark all the places that will tell

How Jesus loves poor crooks like me.

I'm glad I'm going where He is ; His loving face I soon shall see."

Bright soul light shone upon his face That proved he had a vision true

Of life and death, of faith and hope, That lit his soul with glory new.

So through eight months he grew to be A love-lit soul with heart of cheer,

With visions of his future life

Divinely strong, serene and clear.

His past became a frenzied dream Of life misused, of evil done;

The future brought him highest joy; Through Christ his victory was won.

He asked that he might be baptized, His filthy language grew more clean.

His thoughts grew pure, his life was new, His trust in God became serene.

His lawyer asked, if he would like

His sentence changed. He answered, "No ! I wish to see my Saviour's face,

I'll meet him soon; I long to go."

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So guided by his mother friend

His peaceful happy days went past

Without a fear; heart full of hone. And faith and love, until the last.

A gentle woman kindled him

When Christ's love message first she spoke, And scoffing skeptics sneered no more

Who met him, when his soul awoke.

Religion's formal, lifeless words

He'd heard before in icy tone; But love from Christ's great yearning heart

Had never lighted up his own.

Fierce threats of everlasting hell He answered with embittered sneers,

But tenderness unlocked his heart And his freed soul flowed out in tears.

The joy of warm exultant tears Cleared out the evil from his soul

And Christ's pure love flowed in, so he Became redeemed and saw life's goal.

O ! men and women whose neglect

Prevents the highest growth of those

Unkindled souls within your reach ;

God loves those little ones. He knows

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You are responsible for them.

Awake, and your whole duty do ; Tis not enough to punish them

Teach law it should be loving, too.

And help all children to be true.

And ye who think vour duty done By sending wayward youths to jail

To punish them, awake and learn Your harsh coercive plans must fail

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B

INFIDEL JIM

ECAUSE Jim said he did not think All that he preached was right, The preacher called him "infidel" Though Jim but sought for light.

"Don't let your children play with him

The devil has him fast. He is an infidel. I fear

His time of hope is past."

Thus spoke the preacher in the church

About an earnest boy Fourteen years old whose heart was full

Of love, and hope and joy.

God's miracles : — the rivers wide,

The mountains grandly high The lakes, the trees, the ferns, the flowers,

The stars, the moon, the sky.

A blade of grass, the season's change,

All whispered "God" to Jim; And yet the narrow preacher said

"The devil has got him."

When he was ninety-two years old

The preacher came to Jim, And said "he came that he might make

Apology to him.

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"One mystery of life," said he,

"I never understood, The boys I thought were bad became

With few exceptions good,

"And those I thought were good, in life

Were useless, and some bad ; They wasted life, or wrecked it,

Their ending was so sad."

"That is no mystery," said Jim "Your standard, sir, was wrong,

Your 'good boys' were the weak boys, Your 'bad boys' were the strong.

"The independent, thoughtful boy

Original and free Who doubted what you taught, but wished

The truth to clearly see,

"You thought was bad, though no one now

Believes all that you taught ; You called those good who did not think,

But only thought they thought.

"We cannot really believe

Until we doubt, but you Thought boys were good who thought they thought

What you said must be true.

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"The dead boys you approved, who just

Accepted what you said; You called those bad wbo were alive;

Thank God, I was not dead.

"But I forgave you long ago

For what you said of me. I sought the truth — I seek it yet — •

To be by it made free.

"And, what I see of vital truth,

I try to do each day, And thus climb nearer to the light.

There is no other way.

"When you unwisely called me names

'An infidel' and 'bad,' I bitterly resented it,

But I was very glad

"To be unlike such men as you,

And I was proud to be An infidel. I pitied you

As much as you did me.

"I read the books of infidels

And skeptical became, And for my attitude to life

You were alone to blame.

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"Three years I did not go to church

Because I truly thought The church a place, where narrow creeds

That bind men's souls were taught.

"And then I met a noble man,

A preacher, too, and he, When he had heard my doubts, was full

Of sympathy with me.

"He did not rage, or call me names,

But kindly gave me light, As God's ambassador should do

To guide me to the right.

"The skeptic's arguments he knew,

And stated strongly, too, But calmly answered them, and gave

My soul the vision true."

The old man took Jim' hand and smiled, "I thank you, James," said he,

"Mv heart rejoices, when I know You have forgiven me.

"I did the best I knew, but O

I now can clearly see That I was wrong, and I rejoice

That vou from doubt are free."

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HOW TO SAVE THE SO-CALLED "BAD" BOY

/. Know Him.

TIS not enough to know his name His face, his form, and whence he came; For he is greater far than these. His aims, his joys, his tendencies, His plans, his hopes, his daylight dreams, And ev'ry boy has visions — gleams Of coming glory — each his own, That kindle him and him alone, They are his soul-shine, they reveal His power for evil or for weal, They are the sacred lights that shine To guide him nearer the Divine, But they, perverted, may debase And purity and truth efface ; These will uplift him or degrade, They lead to light or blighting shade ; Know these, and then the boy you know So well that you may help him grow. Learn what he loves and what he hates. Emotions drive him through the gates That open to the paths which lead Upward to right and noble deed, Or to defilement and disgrace, Inglorious life and action base. Study his interests, and he Through them may soon your comrade be, Learn of the work he loves to do. He will have deep respect for you. When of his hobby you know more Than he had ever known before. Then as his comrade you may find The way to kindle heart and mind.

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II. Kindle Him.

Don't worry, though he ha^ done wrong. Evil can never be so strong As good. Kindle his good, and you Will make his life more pure and true. The power he used for evil should Become achieving power for good, And wake his soul to higher view. Dwarf not his power — give vision true ; And then the self-same power will bless, And bring him greater happiness Than its misuse which made him "bad." 'Twill kindle him, and make him glad. New interest, new aim, new view, New consciousness of power to do, Transform a boy, and then his might With joy he uses for the right. He loves to do the right far more Than he loved doing wrong before. Boys love to do, not to do wrong. Their love of doing grows more strong, And gives them more intense delight, When they are working for the right, Than when they work for wrong, and so Achieving good they truly grow.

777. Trust Him

Trust him, and he will trust you, too. Your faith in him will make him true. 'Twill give him kindling faith in you, And fill his life with purpose new. Your faith in him will be his test

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Of his success. He'll do his best That he may ever worthy be Of your enkindling- trust, and see The faith-shine in your glowing eye To stir his soul with purpose high.

What if he fail? as fail he may. Show stronger faith, and lead the way Up towards the crest of life's steep hill. And be his loving comrade still. Your heart-light has the love lit tone To drive the shadows from his own. Then by your side he'll gladly go, And once again hope's flowers will grow. Your trustful smile and word of cheer Will dissipate the clouds of fear That gathered o'er his saddened heart Because he failed to do his part. When other lights are growing dim, Your faith may be hope's star to him To guide him in his downcast hour And fill his soul with vital power.

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THE UPRIGHT JUDGE ( ?) First Case.

WHAT is the charge?" the justice said, As on his hand he laid his head. "This manufacturer employs At labor five Canadian boys. In dark, unventilated rooms They start their course to early tombs. He robs five workmen of their pay, He robs five children of their play. Their right to school, their right to grow, Their right to health and vigor's glow. What cares he, though no little boy May ever have a child's true joy? What cares he, though his country lose Its manhood power, if he can use The children's labor so that he A plutocrat mav grow to be ? There is no criminal more base Than he who climbs to wealth or place By robbing childhood of its rights. He thus the nation's power blights. Canadian law the child makes free From labor in a factory. This man defies the law, and he Can give no justifying plea. His punishment should be severe, To teach all men law to revere." The upright iud<?e shook his gray head; "One dollar! Next," was all he said.

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Second Case.

Into the dock, with face aflame,

A feeble, shrinking woman came,

Awed by the terrors of the piace.

Numbed by the shadow of disgrace.

"What is the charge?" the justice said.

"This woman stole a loaf of bread."

Then spoke a man in kindly tone:

"We are to blame; we should have known

That she was starving on our street.

No food her children had to eat.

She took the loaf that they might live;

No money had she left to give.

My neighbors gladly now unite

To help her in her uphill fight.

They will be kind to her, and true,

And aid to start her life anew.

Let her return to children dear,

Their lives to comfort and to cheer.

Be merciful and let her go ;

Her heart is now too full of woe."

The upright judge shook his gray head:

"Six months in jail," he coldly said.

This court is in a Christian land,

So called where splendid churches stand,

With steeples pointing to the sky,

To guide our thoughts to things on high.

Too many soar with spirit wings

On high, forgetful of the things

That they should do on earth below

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To lift the load of human woe; To overthrow encroaching wrong, And help the weak against the strong. Fair womanhood and childhood plead That we should help them in their need.

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A TRULY JUST JUDGE

BENEATH a shock of corn he lay One dark and cold November day. Throughout the night a heavy rain Had soaked the ground where he had lain ; Yet he had slept till break of day And then tramped on his weary way. Hungry, and wet, and weak, and cold — A little boy thirteen years old. Arrested as a boy astray He told the judge he ran away. His story he began to tell Simply and clearly, and so well The judge said, "Stop, son! That will do. I'll send for him, and meanwhile you Sleep in my room, and when you wake, I'll have some breakfast you must take."

An officer brought in the man

From whose large farm the poor boy ran.

Another brought some neighbors, ~rho

The farmer's selfishness well knew.

The Children's Home had raised the lad

Till he was twelve. The farmer had

Secured him then, and for a year

Had kept the boy. Stern and severe,

And miserly, he would not pay

For help. He made the boy each day

Work hard from dawn to dark, and then

Waked him at four o'clock again.

The judge learned, too, from the poor lad

That through the vear he never had

A dollar nor a holiday,

When he might have a chance to play.

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"You are a monster, not a man," Indignantly the judge began, Selfish and soul-less you have shown That you a miser mean have grown. How can a man upon a farm Surrounded by kind Nature's charm In God's out-doors, sublimely grand With glory by the Master planned On hill and valley, flower and tree Arranged in matchless symmetry — How can he let his heart grow cold? How can he sell his soul for gold? You are a criminal, but I Will give you one more chance to try To be a man, and if you fail, I'll send you down six months to jail.

You signed a contract. I now rule That you must send the boy to school; And give him proper clothes which I Will choose for him, and you will buy; And treat him decently, and be Respectful to him. I will see That you the proper treatment give That the poor boy may truly live. Now go. Remember that the boy Has many rights, and one is joy, Be decent now, for if you fail, Your sentence stands, — six months in jail." Joe, I decide that you must work, Before and after school, don't shirk, And Saturday one-half the day. The other half is yours for play."

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LAWS THAT SAVE AND NOT DEGRADE

TWAS in a prison where young men Are trained to live true lives again ; Not being punished for the wrong They did, but being made more strong

To do the right, and clearly see

Their duty to society,

So that their lives may happy be

And useful, when again they're free ;

Whose souls are not benumbed by fears

Of many dreaded, hopeless years

Imprisoned in a gloomy cell,

Shut in from all they loved so well ;

From home and friends ; from Nature's bowers

Of stately trees and blooming flowers;

From valley wide and mountain high ;

From dawn blush, and eve's glowing sky;

From twinkling stars and shining sun;

From hope of joys they might have won;

From lover's sweet responsive smile,

And all that makes our lives worth while ;

Who know that they themselves decide

How long they are these joys denied.

'Twas there a miracle I saw,

The triumph of enlightened law,

That treats a criminal as one

Whose upward climb has just begun,

By whom great deeds may yet be done,

And life's best victories be won.

One fine young man, with strong, kind face And step of dignity and grace,

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Revealed rare power and seemed to me

A well-trained officer to be.

I was surprised to find that he

A convict was for felony.

"Please tell me, sir," I said, "why you

Are here, so young, so bright, so true?

I'd like to claim you as my son.

Why are you here ? What have you done ?"

"The judge who sentenced me was just;

I held an office sir, of trust ;

I joined a club of older men

Who drank good wine. I drank, and then

I gambled, too. My luck was bad,

Large sums I lost, and I grew mad

Because I could not pay my debt.

I played more wildly, hoping yet

That luck would turn, till in the end

I had to borrow from a friend

To pay my heavy losses. Then

I made a vow that ne'er again

I'd gamble. Through that awful night

I fought a wild, despairing fight

With conscience, but no hope light came

To cheer the darkness of my shame.

On through the day I struggled still

Beneath my heavy load, until

I yielded, and my trust betrayed.

I took the cash — my debt I paid,

Believing that I might replace

The money and avoid disgrace :

But I was caught, and sentenced here

Ten years; yet in a single year

The law provides that I may be

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At home again from prison free. I've earned my liberty, good friend, My Christmas day at home I'll spend."

'And are your parents living yet ?"

I asked. "O, yes !" His eyes grew wet —

"And more, I have a wife and child."

Then through his tears he bravely smiled ;-

"My baby girl I never saw,

But by humane and helpful law

I shall be free on Christmas Day,

And with my baby learn to play.

My darling wife to me is true;

My pledge to her I will renew,

And life once more will joyous be

With her and baby, when I'm free.

God bless the true, good men who made

"The laws that save and not degrade."

106

Y

BRAVE JOE

OU did it, sir, I know you did," The angry teacher said, His voice was loud, his tone was harsh, His face was very red.

"I did not do the printing, sir,"

Replied the honest lad ; "Don't dare to contradict me, boy,

I know you're always bad.

"To save yourself from punishment

I know you'd tell a lie." The boy in answer camly said,

"You're lying, sir, not I."

"I saw the printing done, and so I know the truth — not you —

What you have said is not the truth, What I have said is true."

The teacher raised his cane to strike,

But ere he struck the blow, A trustee standing at the door

Said "Stop! What's wrong with Joe?"

The teacher told his story; then

Joe told his story, too. And said "he does not know the truth.

But what I said is true."

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While Joe was speaking, Susan Brown Came late, and heard him through ;

Then said, "I did the printing, sir, What Joe has said is true."

The teacher harshly said to Joe "Why did you not tell me ?"

"You did not ask me," Joe replied, "And, if you had, you see

"I could not be so mean, as tell

What I had seen Sue do ; You might have thrashed me till I fell,

Before I'd peach on Sue."

The teacher claimed that Joe should make

Apology. "You know He said that I was lying, sir,

You can't deny it, joe."

The trustee said, "I think that Joe

Has proved an honest lad, You said you knew — you did not know;

You baselv called him 'bad.'

"You said that he was lying, though He told you what was true.

To use your vulgar words, he has As good a right as you.

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"For boys have rights, as well as men ;

Teachers have claimed, too long, That might is right, and beaten boys

Because they were so strong.

"And he was right. It has been shown Your words were false — his true ;

You should apologize to Joe, I hope that's what you'll do."

"And let me add, what Susie wrote

Was merely meant in fun ; If you had laughed, the pupils' hearts

You surelv would have won."

109

MIKE

THOUGH Mike was but a little lad He had a reputation bad. The court had sent him fourteen times To jail to punish him for crimes, Though he was but thirteen. Poor boy His life had known but little joy. No kindly heart had led him right, No one had helped to make life bright. He was a forceful, fearless lad Who had no friends to make him glad, No mother's love to touch his heart And kindle him with matchless art.

The law had punished him in vain.

This fact to others was quite plain,

But justice oft is truly blind,

And judges fail to be more kind

To wayward boys because they fear

That, if they do not be severe

The boys will lose respect for law ;

And so they try to overawe

Instead of kindle. "Laws are made,"

They say "to make the boys afraid

Of law." The world awoke, and then

Led by the wiser, thoughtful men

Who knew that punishment was wrong ;

That fear made weak men, never strong,

Made better laws the boys to save,

And to the judges power gave

To help the wayward boys to grow

With minds alert and hearts aglow ;

To make their better nature strong,

And punish those who lead them wrong.

110

Mike's brother led a band of boys Who did not live at home; whose joys Were found in freedom; who obeyed Their leader who was not afraid Of "cops" or courts. They slept in sheds Upon the bare ground, not in beds; They stole their food, and money, too, And dared police their best to do.

The School Inspector met the boys, And told of better, higher joys That they might have in work and play If they would go to school each day. He told them they would work with tools, Have fun in games, make their own rules, And have for teacher one as kind, And wise, and good, as he could find. A school he promised of their own Just for themselves and friends alone.

Their leader promised they would go,

They all agreed with him and so

The date was fixed for school to start

And each one said he'd do his part,

If the Inspector found a man

To carry out his promised plan.

"I do not think a man would do.

A ladv I will get for you,"

Said the Inspector, "if you'd like

A lady." "Sure we would" said Mike.

Men said the school would fail, because The boys would not obev the laws Made bv a woman. Little they Knew of the meaning of obey,

111

And less of kindling children's souls, And guiding them to higher goals By self -activity, and joy That comes to each achieving boy.

Two months the school, a busy hive, Of happy boys and girls, alive Who planned, achieved, had visions new, And with their comrade teacher grew More happy, was a joyous place Till Mike was sent home in disgrace. His temper unrestrained, set loose A flood of vulgar, coarse abuse Against his teacher, and she sent Him home a week as punishment. One day he stayed away, and then He pleaded to get back again.

"Four days more, Mike, you have to stay,"

His teacher said, "from school away.

I cannot let you in, you see

Till you apologize to me

For what you said. Fd dearly like

To have you with us sooner, Mike,

The School Inspector is away

So till next Friday you must stay

At home. On Friday he'll be here,

And your apology will hear.

"Say teacher lick me if you like,

And let me back again," said Mike.

"No! Come next Friday, Mike, and then

I hope you will get in again.

Fm lonely Mike, without you here."

In her kind eye Mike saw a tear,

And his heart filled, till his eyes, too,

Were glorified with feeling new.

112

"O, teacher," shed no weeps for me,

My eyes are dewy, too," said he.

"I never thought that I would cry.

The jail folks hardened me till I

Forgot how fellows ought to feel.

My heart was cold and hard as steel

But you have thawed me out I guess

And filled my heart with happiness;

I have been lonelier than you

Till now I can't keep back the dew.

That one bright tear in your kind eye

Will keep things growing till I die.

I ain't ashamed to cry with you.

For you're an angel — now that's true.

'Twas awful what I said, and yet

You're kind to me. I won't forget.

I've had no mother, life's been hard,

My father never was a pard

With Jack or me. I never knew

What kindness truly meant, till you

First came, and then we thought you were

Just actin, didn't really care,

But now I know you're good clear through,

And I've determined that I'll do

The best I can to show to you

That I am trying to be true,"

She clasped his hand, and held it tight, Till in his heart there shone the light, The grandest light that e'er can shine To guide dark souls toward the Divine. "Friends let us two forever be" She said, "as years pass by and we Will help each other to the end Each one the other's trusted friend."

113

"A trusted friend," Mike slowly said, Trusted by you; by your love led! Life seems all new; my past is dead. I'll wait till Friday now, said he, 'Twill hurt, but do me good to be Kept out for I did wrong. I know You're my best friend on earth and so I'll do exactly what you say. I'll think about you while away."

He did his part on Friday well, "I'm not ashamed he said to tell You girls and boys that I was wrong I lost my temper and said strong Bad words. I'm sorry. I ask you My teacher good and kind, and true To take me back again and I Now promise sure that I will try To prove for what you said to me That in the future I will be A straight-line boy, and if I can I'll be to you a gentleman. You are the only friend I've had And I no more will make you sad." His teacher kindly took his hand And simply said, "We understand."

The year passed by; Mike had remained True to his promise, and had gained The highest standing of the year For conduct with a record clear. First Jesse Ketchum Prize he won* For purpose true and duty done.

114

The more he went to jail, the worse He grew; the heavier the curse Of cold coercion proved to be — When kindled by his teacher, he Revealed his nature's highest powers, And in his heart life's sweetest flowers Bloomed through long years of usefulness His city and his home to bless.

*The Jesse Ketchum Prize is awarded to the boy or girl in each Toronto School, who has the best record for unselfishness and good conduct.

115

THE SOUL-DWARFING PHARISEE

OUTCAST," you say, self-righteous man ! How dare you put on him a ban ? How dare assume you have a right To dwarf a child with social blight, And brand him "bad" ? Heart-hungry boy, You rob him of a child's best joy; You take his comradeship away, You will not let your children play With him, and left without a mate His love becomes transformed to hate; You fill with bitterness his life, And sow the seeds of social strife. Proud Pharisee, recall again The answer of your Saviour, when The Pharisees of olden time Said, "He was guilty of a crime, And that their hearts were sorely grieved Because poor sinners He received, And ate with them." "I'd seek," said He, "The one lost sheep and happy be When it I found" O selfish man ! Treat children on the Saviour's plan. Remember, too, the epoch day When to the people Christ did say, As "in the midst" He set a child, And at it reverently smiled.. "Who shall one little child offend, 'Twere better for him in the end If millstone hung his neck around, And in the deep sea he was drowned."

The thoughtful father tells his lad "To find the boy that is called 'bad'

116

And chum with him to let him know That one boy's heart can truly glow With friendship for him. Tell him he With you will ever welcome be Here in your home. Yes ! bring him here ; Lend him your books. I do not fear That he will make you bad. The wrong Should never win, for right is strong And God helps ever those who do For others what is kind and true. When you are kind to him, my boy, And help to fill his heart with joy, Your decent doing makes you strong To win for right, against the wrong; And, when you kindle him, my son, With love, you have your triumph won."

No thoughtful man will ever say A boy is "bad." Oh, yes ! he may Do wrong and yet his soul may be From conscious evil purpose free. Poor boy, he needs to be made glad, To be love kindled, not called "bad." To call him "bad" defines his thought Of evil, when instead we ought To kindle goodness, and begin In partnership with him to win His faith in us, and prove that we Have power the good in him to see. One word of reverent esteem May wake his soul to glory gleam ; One smile his deed to recognize May light love sunshine in his eyes ; One kindly touch approving him May start his love dew o'er the brim.

117

ROBBED OF CHILDHOOD

A FATHER and a mother came A hundred miles to see A teacher with their little boy Because they heard that he Was fond of boys and power had To kindle those whom men called "bad."

"We've no control whatever, sir,"

They said, "over this lad, And we can find no reason, sir,

Why he should be so 'bad.' We ask, if you our son will take And see, if you his will can break.

"He knows the bible, sir, by heart ;

We've tried to make him good. We ought to know the rightful way

To train as parents should. Our fathers both were preachers true, Who, how to train their children, knew.

"They never let us have our way When we were young, and so

We could not learn to do wrong things ; Obedient we did grow,

But he gets angry, when controlled,

And answers us in language bold."

"I'm sorry for your little son,"

The teacher kindly said, "You did not try to train a child,

You trained a man instead. You cannot truly train a boy By robbing him of childhood's joy.

118

"A boy in childhood should be free

To think and plan and do. Your son can never truly grow

So long, my friends, as you Refuse to let him have his way Enjoying work — enjoying play.

"To know the bible all by heart

At ten, cannot be right. To make the sacred book a task,

May cloud the guiding light That it should give to lead him through Life's coming years, and make him true.

"He is not 'bad,' but warped, because His growth has not been free.

I like your boy, and soon I hope To win his love for me.

We will be comrades full of joy,

And he will be a fine, true boy."

119

MEDITATIONS OF AN OLD TEACHER

I

AM ashamed I called you "bad" When you were but An orphan lad.

No joy or trust

In school you had; I punished you

And called you "bad."

I should have known, You were so sad

You needed love To make you glad.

O! if I could, Poor orphan lad,

To make amends

Would make me glad.

But 'tis too late,

And I am sad. I am ashamed

I called you "bad."

120

THE SHADOWED SISTER

V

SHE has disgraced us so, Mother, that we must go,

We will not stay. If she comes home again After her shame, why then We go away.

"With her we will be classed, If we forgive her past;

We'll not remain To bear the bitter sneers, And through the shadowed years Share her dark stain."

"She is vour sister, so

You should relieve her woe

By love sincere ; Her breaking heart is sad, Help me to make her glad

And dry sin's tear.

"Misled she did the wrong ; Would you have been more strong,

More staunchly true; If one with witching guile Had promised with a smile

To marry you?

"His was the sin most base ; Her's is the deep disgrace ;

Let tis be true. His was the darkest stain, Her's is the sharpest pain;

Shall we sin, too?

121

"No ! In her heart's dark night Let us reveal the light That love imparts. Christ sought the lamb that strayed; Christ lighted up all shade On human hearts.

"Why should one mis-step close Hope's gate? the Father knows

How to forgive. He says to sinful men Arise! Start up again,

And truly live.

"Let not your hate endure; Let us believe her pure,

And she may be Happy and sweet, and then From sin's dark blight again

She will be free."

Wise mother's loving plea Won sister hearts, and she

Came home and then These tender hearts alight Made her sad spirit bright

With hope again.

122

T

"WICKED" TOM

OM'S parents both were drunkards And so he never had A decent home or training Poor little outcast lad.

With parents both in prison

He oft was left alone; No happy playmate's friendship

The child had ever known.

Hungry, and sad, and lonely, When mother was away

He learned to live by stealing And early went astray.

Yes ! He was "bad," according

To his report, in school His teacher did not like him

For he defied her rule.

The janitress, a widow

Was told about the lad. She was a helpful woman

Who made Tom's life less sad.

And Tom whose heart she wakened With honest purpose tried

Her good advice to follow Until at length she died.

123

Then, when he knew her children

Had lost a mother's care He quickly went, and told them

That he with them would share.

He pleaded with his teacher To be the orphans' friend,

And often brought her money That she for them might spend.

He stole the money and was caught,

And sent to jail at last, And when the judge's sentence

Upon the boy was passed,

Tom wept and said, "the children Will starve when I'm in jail" ;

His uncontrolled emotion Impressed his tragic tale.

Then torpid Christian spirit

In selfish souls awoke, And one, a gentle woman,

This social message spoke

"O, judge ! I see my duty

This boy has kindled me, We long have called him 'wicked,'

But he has proved to be,

124

"More kind to those who suffer;

From selfishness more free; More helpful to the needy,

More Christlike; judge, than we,

"His actions prove him worthy Of. kindling love and trust,

Society must waken

And be more wise and just,

"To boys like Tom, and guide them ^ To truer, higher lives ; They are not 'bad,' for in them Christ's vital life survives." .

125

"DREADFUL DICK"

YES ! I taught a village school More than fifty years ago. Teachers then believed the rod Must be used to make boys grow Into good and useful men ; Beating boys was common then.

When the trustees first engaged Me to teach the village school,

The last teacher said : "Dick Green Never would submit to rule;

That four times a day he had

Punished him, he was so bad."

"Then," said I, "I cannot see,

How he is so good, poor lad, Beaten as you say he was.

Beating helps to make boys 'bad.' Beaten he will never be, While he comes to school to me."

On the road I met the boy,

And he tried to pass me by Without speaking, but I said,

"Dick, I hope you'll not be shy; I am the new teacher, so All the boys I'd like to know."

"How'd you know my name is Dick?" "People told me you are 'bad,'

And they called you 'Dreadful Dick,' So to meet you I am glad.

Beating is the only way

I can make you good, they say.

126

"I do not believe that, Dick, I have found boys love to do

Right far better than the wrong. From your face I judge that you

Have just been misunderstood

And that in your heart you're good."

"Say !" said he, "I wish I could Just believe all that. Will you

Come with me a-fishing now If you've nothing else to do?"

"Yes, old sport, I'll go with you,

And you'll find that I am true."

Coming back, I said to him,

" 'Comrade Dick' I'll call you, bov.

'Dreadful Dick'! Let's bury him." Then his face lit up with joy,

"Trust and love you'll get from me,"

"I will love you, too," said he.

* * * * :

"Yes ! I heard him preach last night, And he filled my soul with light."

127

PS Hughes, James Laughlin

8515 God made them good

U34G6

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