Stories of brotherhood; a book for boys and girls

Contents

CHAPTER PAGE

A Word to Boys and Girls .... xi I. A Man Who Brought the Sunshine

TO Children 1

II A Gaebage Man Who Was Proud Of His Job

For Zion 's sake will I not hold my peace, and for Jerusalem's sake I will not rest. . . . Thou shalt be a crown of beauty in the hand of Jehovah, and a royal diadem in the hand of thy God,

In one of the cities of ancient Greece there was once a queer old fellow who, as a joke, was appointed town scavenger. This meant that every day he was to clean away the filth which was left in the streets. No one had ever been willing to do this work so long as there was any other possible way to earn a living. But this man took the position and kept the streets of his city so clean that he won the honor and respect of all his fellow citizens.

A man very much like that old Greek lived in our own time and made the largest city of America one of the cleanest instead of one of the dirtiest in the world. His name was George E. Waring.

There was a time not long ago when New

York was indeed a very dirty city. The streets were slimy with mud when it rained and foul with dust when the weather was dry. Boxes and barrels of garbage, ashes, and rubbish stood everywhere on the sidewalks, running over into the gutters. The openings into the sewers were clogged. Horses and wagons were allowed to stand in the streets, instead of being taken to stables. In the winter the snow that fell was never removed from the sidewalks. Those who could afford to wear rubbers kept their feet dry, but the children of the poor had to tramp to school through the slush and suffer from the coughs and colds which came as a result. In the summer-time the air was filled with dust, and many persons suffered from throat and lung diseases caused by dust.

When complaints were made, it was said that ^'you can't have clean streets in New York.'' There was, to be sure, a street-cleaning department in the city government, but men were appointed as street-cleaners not because they would do the work well, but because they had voted in a certain way at the last election. They took no pride in their work and did it poorly.

In 1895 a new street-cleaning commissioner, Colonel George E. Waring, was appointed. Colonel Waring was a sanitary engineer. That

A PKOUD GARBAGE MAN 11

is, it was his life-work to make cities healthful for people to live in. For example, he had put a new system of sewers into the city of Memphis, because the old sewers had caused epidemics of disease.

When he was offered the new position in New York, he was told that ^ ' no man with a reputation can afford to hold the office.'' But Colonel Waring took it, on the condition that he was to be allowed to- put in good men as workers, no matter what ticket they had voted at the election. He dismissed some of the bad men and showed the others how the work should be done. He gave them new and better tools. Instead of shoveling the street-sweepings into wagons, with the wind blowing the dust everywhere, he gave each man a small ^^bag-carrier'' with wheels, and the sweepings were to be put in this bag as fast as they were collected. Better and quicker ways of removing the garbage and ashes were invented. When snow-storms came, extra men were hired, and the whole city was cleared of snow much more quickly.

Best of all, he made the people of New York proud of their street-sweepers. Each one was given a white uniform, so that they were called ** white-wings." In 1896 he arranged a parade for these h-ard-working men, who were doing

SO much to make the city clean and healthful for all the citizens ; and the crowds cheered them as they marched by. Colonel Waring also persuaded the people to help the street-sweepers. The boys and girls were organized into juvenile civic leagues, to help keep the streets clean.

Here is a letter which came to him from a boy in one of the leagues ;

Dear Sir:

While walking through Broome Street, on Monday, at 7.30 p. M., I saw a man throwing a mattress on the street. I told him to put it in a barrel, and he picked it up and thanked me for the inflammation I had given him. I also picked up 35 banana skins, 43 watermelon shells, 2 bottles, 3 cans, and a mattress from Norfolk Street.

And here is a song that was written for these leagues of boys and girls :

There are barrels in the hallways,

Neighbor mine.

Pray be mindful of them always.

Neighbor mine.

If you're not devoid of feeling, Quickly to those barrels stealing, Throw in each banana peeling,

Neighbor mine.

Look ! Where'er you drop a paper.

Neighbor mine, In the wind it cuts a caper.

Neighbor mine.

Down the street it madly courses. And should fill you with remorses When you see it scare the horses,

Neighbor mine.

Underwood & Underwood A "WHITE-WIxXG" PARADE IN NEW YORK CITY. IN THE REAR ARE THE GARBAGE COLLECTORS

Paper cans were made for papers,

Neighbor mine.

Let's not have the fact escape us,

Neighbor mine.

And if you will lend a hand, Soon our city dear shall stand As the cleanest in the land, Neighbor mine.

And soon people began to realize- that paper cans are made for papers and ^'barrels in the ha'llways" for banana peelings and other waste matter. So, gradually New York has indeed become one of the cleanest cities in the land, and the people who live there are trying to keep it so.

Colonel Waring was dismissed from office after three years because of his enemies, who wanted to give the street-sweepers' jobs once more to those who would vote for this or that party or candidate. But none of the street commissioners since Colonel Waring 's time have dared to go back to the old ways, and many of them have carried the good work even further, although much must yet be done to make the city even more attractive and healthful. The white-wings are still proud of their work. Every year there are fewer and fewer cases of sickness from foul dust. Little children very seldom now have to wade through wet snow to school.

A PROUD GARBAGE MAN 15

Colonel Waring himself went from New York to Havana, Cuba, to make that city also a more healthful place for human beings, and while there he caught the yellow fever. So, like, a good soldier of Christ, he died in the midst of the battle, fighting to the very last for cleanliness instead of dirt, in order that human beings might not have to live like the brutes but like children of the heavenly Father.

Ill

A NEW KIND OF POLICEMAN

I, Jehovah, love justice.

A policeman was walking down his beat one evening, when a shower of stones came flying from a dark alley. One of them struck and wounded him. The stones were thrown by a gang of boys.

** Cheese it, the cop!" whispered a boy to his chums, just as they were about to snatch some fruit from a poor old pedler's push-cart; and then they all dashed down the street.

Why were not those boys helping the officer to protect that poor pedler's property, instead of doing their best to he robbers themselves? Why has there so often been a war between boys and policemen?

No doubt the boys themselves have been partly to blame — but not altogether. Sometimes the policeman has been to blame. Some men are very fond of swinging big clubs and shouting at other persons. Besides this, we all have been to blame in what we have expected of

i6

A NEW KIND OF POLICEMAN 17

the policeman. We have supposed that almost all boys and girls are bad, and that the best policeman is the one who arrests the greatest number and sends the most persons to jail. In most towns and cities it has been the rule to promote to a higher rank those police officers who have the best record for making arrests. Of course they want to be promoted and earn larger salaries; so the policemen have sometimes looked for chances to arrest some one. They have been encouraged to suspect some man or some boy or girl of trying to break the law. And when you are continually suspected of wrong-doing, it is hard to keep from doing wrong.

So the police kept bringing people into court for some trifling piece of mischief or on charges which they could not prove. When boys were arrested in this way and brought to the police station, they usually met older men who were hardened criminals and who boasted of their crimes. The boys imitated them, and so were actually taught to be criminals.

If it was an older man who was arrested for some small carelessness, he lost his day's pay and sometimes lost his job entirely. Even if he was afterward declared innocent, his neighbors considered it a disgrace that he had been arrested, and his children were jeered at by their playmates.

In the year 1901 there was a new mayor elected in Cleveland. His name was Tom L. Johnson. Mr. Johnson wanted to make the city government benefit the people — that is, all of the people, not just the rich and strong — and he tried to put at the head of every department a man who would carry out that purpose. For the police department he selected a man named Fred Kohler, whom Theodore Roosevelt once called *Hhe best chief of police in America."

On Christmas day, 1907, Chief Kohler called his men together and asked their help in carrying out a new plan. After this, he said, they were not to be promoted according to the number of persons each officer had arrested. The number of arrests was not to be considered. Instead of that the men were to follow the rule of common sense and ^* arrest persons only when they should be arrested.'' For example, *^If you see boys fighting in the street,'* he said, ^' don't take them to jail; just warn them and send them about their business. If a man is drunk, whether he is rich or poor, send him or help him home. Only be on the lookout for real criminals. ' '

And the men did look out for the real crim-

A NEW KIND OF POLICEMAN 19

inals. Some persons have supposed that this Cleveland idea was too easy-going. Some of the citizens in Cleveland were afraid that all the burglars and pickpockets in America would immediately swoop down on their city. But just the opposite is the truth. Cleveland has been one of the cities that the real crooks and criminals have stayed away from. The saloonkeepers also hated Chief Kohler, because he enforced the law.

The new plan has been given a thorough trial, and almost every one now admits that it is a wonderful success. For one thing, it has saved the city of Cleveland much money. More than thirty thousand persons used to be arrested there every year. These cases were tried before a regular police judge, and the records had to be kept by a clerk. Now the number of arrests is only about seven thousand. Best of all, there is a new spirit of cooperation between the citizens, young and old, and the policemen. The boys and girls feel that the man in the blue coat is one of their best friends. They know that if little brother is lost, the first man to tell is the * * cop ' ' on the corner. He will telephone to headquarters, and in fifteen minutes every policeman in the city will be watching for the lost little boy — and probably they will find him. They know that it is the policeman who helps the aged and lame and blind across the crowded street. If any one is hurt or falls unconscious on the sidewalk, it is the man in blue who is at once at his side, keeping back the curious crowds until the ambulance and the doctor come. And the boys and girls, for their part, do all they can to help their friend. They don't throw stones or deface buildings or steal from stores, and they show other boys that in their city such actions are despised. For the policeman is the protector and helper of boys and girls and not their enemy.

IV A Judge Who Loves Even Bad Children

The Lord is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and of great lovingkindness.

One day, not many years ago, three boys in Denver were arrested for burglary and brought before the county judge. They had broken into a barn belonging to an old man and had stolen some of his pigeons.

Now, it is burglary to break into a barn. There is no doubt about that. And according to law, a person who commits burglary must be sent to prison; many a boy has been sent to prison for no worse a crime than these lads were guilty of. But the judge in this court remembered something which had happened when he himself was a boy in Denver. He and three other boys had started out one night to do just what these boys did — to steal pigeons. He himself had not gone into the barn — he had been afraid to. But he would have gone if he had

A JUDGE WHO LOVES CHILDREN 23

dared. And the barn had belonged to this very same man, whose name was Foy. He had always been ^ ^grouchy'' toward boys.

The judge did not send these three boys to jail. He called them into his office and talked with them. They told him just what they had done and promised him in the future to keep out of such mischief. And he let them go under what the law calls a suspended sentence. That is, if they ever did it again, the judge would have to send them to jail.

This judge, who could see the difference between boys' and girls' mischief and real wickedness and crime, was Ben B. Lindsey, and he is now known all over the country as the * ' kids ' judge.*'

This case and the cases of other boys and girls opened Judge Lindsey 's eyes. He arranged to have all the children who were arrested by the police in Denver brought to his court. After a time a law was passed which said that there should be a juvenile or children's court, and Mr. Lindsey was the judge of this court. All the boys and girls in the city understood that this judge was their friend.

**The judge, he gives a feller a show,** so the boys said. Even if a boy had been very bad, Judge Lindsey was eager to give him another chance to do right. Almost always he was put on probation, which means that after this he must keep straight, and that for a certain length of time he must report at the court every week on a certain day and tell how he is getting on. The judge only asked that, the boys and girls tell him the truth — not about their chums, but about themselves. He never asked anybody to tell on his friends. Most of the policemen and judges had made it their first business, whenever a boy was arrested, to make him tell, or ^'snitch," on the rest of the gang. That is mean and dishonorable, as all boys know, and no one was ever asked to do it in Judge Lindsey's court. But the judge did insist that if he was to be a friend to a boy, the boy must tell the truth about himself. ^^ Don't ye dare lie to the judge,'' said one small boy who had tried it and found it didn't pay.

You must not think that Judge Lindsey is *^easy," or that one can fool him. There is a state reform school in Colorado, in the town of Golden, and hundreds of boys have been sent there from the juvenile court, to stay until they are strong enough to keep straight and do right. If a boy proves that he can't be trusted, to Golden he goes. There is no use crying or teasing to be let off.

Just because tlie boys and girls in Denver know that Judge Lindsey is their friend and will always be square with them, they have proved themselves true friends to him. Some of the older men have been his enemies and have tried to abolish his court and keep him from being judge any more. One reason is because he attacked the saloons where boys and girls were being ruined and compelled them to obey the law. Other men hated him because they had been paid a sum of money by the state for every child whom they arrested and sent to jail.

In fact Judge Lindsey has fought everything and every person that made money by hurting the lives of boys and girls. All these people hated the *^ kid's judge." But the boys and girls stood by him. Once when there was an election and his enemies were trying to put him out of his office as judge, the newsboys formed themselves into gangs and marched through the streets shoutin^: :

Who, which, when !

Wish we was men, So we could vote for

Our little Ben.

They called him "little Ben/' because he is

A JUDGE WHO LOVES CHILDREN 27

SO small; lie only weighs about a hundred pounds.

The fathers and mothers were so stirred by what the boys were saying and by other things they learned, that they came out and voted for Judge Lindsey, and he was elected.

Even the bad boys and girls prove themselves worthy of this man's faith in them. One evening as the janitor was about to turn out the light and close the court-room for the day, a boy was found hanging about the door. He wanted to see the judge.

^^Is this him r'

^^Yes, this is Judge Lindsey.'' Then the judge took him alone into his office, and the boy began to cry. He had been ^'swipin' things," he said, and had come to *' snitch" on himself. The ''other fellows" had said if he would go and tell the judge, the judge would help him to ''cut it out." And after that, he did cut it out. Hundreds of boys and girls come to the juvenile court every year of their own accord, to confess their wrong-doing and promise to do better.

Partly as a result of Judge Lindsey's influence, many other juvenile courts have been started, until now there are such courts in almost all the important cities of the country. Hundreds of men are acting as judges in these courts and showing the same friendship for boys and girls, even bad ones, and the same faith in them, that Judge Lindsey has shown. They are surely carrying out the spirit of Jesus who was the ^ ^friend of sinners,'' even grownup sinners, and who also was the friend of boys and girls.

A WOMAN WHO MADE NUESING BEAUTIFUL

Whosoever would become great among you shall be your minister, and whosoever would be first among you shall be your servant.

What would we do without nurses! Whenever any one in the family is very sick, first, of course, we send for a doctor ; and next very often we send for a trained nurse. And when she comes, with her white cap and spotless uniform, and quietly takes charge of things, at once we feel hopeful that the disease will soon be conquered.

But only a very few years ago, there were no such nurses. There were women, indeed, who tried to do nursing. But they were not trained, and worse still, they were often ignorant and careless and sometimes cruel. This was because people looked down on the work of nursing, just as some people to-day make the mistake of looking down on housework.

But about fifty years ago there was a girl in

England named Florence Nightingale, who seemed to have a natural talent for nursing, and who saw how much good nurses were needed. She noticed how the poor people in her own village suffered, because they did not know how to take care of their sick. So she resolved to learn to be a nurse.

In those days there were no training-schools for nurses in England; so she went to France and Germany, journeying from one hospital to another, learning all she could about the best ways of caring for the sick. No one in any country knew very much about this art, as compared with what is known to-day, but Miss Nightingale kept on traveling and studying for twelve years, until she was sure that she had learned all that could be known about the subject. Then she returned to England.

Soon she was asked to be the superintendent of a hospital for poor teachers, called the Harley Street Home, in London. Her friends hoped she would not accept the position. *^You don't really want to be a nurse,'' they said. But she did accept, and with her own hands swept the rooms and made the beds for the poor, sick, worn-out teachers and tended them and gave them their medicine.

Soon after this there was a war between Eng-

NrRSIXG MADE BEAUTIFUL 31

land and Enssia, called tlie Crimean War, and thousands of British soldiers were sent to the shores of the Black Sea. Of course, as there were no good nurses or decent hospitals anywhere in England, nobody understood the proper way to care for sick and wounded soldiers. Very soon the suffering among them became terrible. The building to which they were taken was not large enough. The walls and ceilings were wet and filthy. There were only a few windows to let in the light. Rats swarmed over the sick men. There was no soap; nor were there towels, clean sheets, or even pails to carry water. By and by cholera broke out, and the men began to die by thousands.

Then came Florence Nightingale, with thirtyeight other nurses who had promised to help her. She had had a very hard time finding these nurses. As she herself wrote, ''All London was scoured for them." And even after she had brought them to Scutari, the city in which they were to work, five had to be sent home, and only sixteen were at all efficient. Here is a sample of their complaints to Miss Nightingale :

"I came out, ma'am, prepared to submit to everything, to be put upon in every way. But there's some things, ma'am, one can't submit to. There's the caps, ma'am, that suit one face, and some that suit another. And if I 'd known about the caps, ma^am, I never would have come to Scutari. ' '

The caps of course were a part of the imif orm which Miss Nightingale had adopted. How proud our nurses are to-day of their uniforms ! It was Miss Nightingale who, through her efficiency and earnestness, made the uniform a symbol of helpfulness which is respected everywhere.

So at Scutari she set to work, using the knowledge she had gained during those twelve years of study. Inside of two weeks that dreadful den of dirt and horror and death was changed to a light, clean, and airy hospital, with spotless sheets, good food, and clean dishes. The sick soldiers were bathed and received their food and medicine at the proper time. Miss Nightingale had made the change. She had set every one to work, doing just the things that needed to be done. She had worked twenty hours a day, going herself from room to room, oftentimes late at night, carrying her lamp and finding out whether everything was well with her boys.

Lo, in that house of misery

A lady with a lamp I see,

And flit from room to room.

And slow, as in a dream of bliss, The speechless sufferer turns to kiss Her shadow as it falls Upon the darkening walls. *

After the war was over, Miss Nightingale came back to England. She herself was sick and broken down from work and anxiety and fever. But the best part of her service for the world was still to come. When the English people heard that she was at home again, they almost went wild with love and joy, and a great gift of money was raised to show her their gratitude. She would not accept the money for herself, but used it to start a real training-school for nurses, the first in England. As the result of her wonderful influence and example, people no longer looked down on the nurse's work as something ^'meniar* and *^ common." Other training-schools were started in all the large cities of Great Britain and America and in all civilized countries, and splendid young women flocked to enter them. Miss Nightingale herself wrote books for them to study. The hospitals, too, were entirely different — clean and well managed, instead of dirty.

Since Florence Nightingale's day the world

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

NURSING MADE BEAUTIFUL 35

lias learned to honor nurses more and more, and the nurses themselves have learned more and more to deserve that honor. And so, you see, there is scarcely a sick man or woman or child anywhere who does not owe a debt of gratitude to this woman who made nursing beautiful ; who helped other women to see that even though it means doing very many disagreeable tasks, yet nursing is a fine art — I might almost say, the finest of the fine arts.

VI A Doctoe Who Fought The Geeat White Plague

He will deliver thee . . . from the deadly pestilence.

—Psalm 91. 3

* * You have consumption. ' ' This was what the doctor said. The patient whom he had been examining was a young man named Edward L. Trudeau. The young man himself was a physician just beginning his work in the city of New York. He had only recently been married to a beautiful young woman. They were not poor. They had every prospect of a happy and a successful life.

However, the young doctor had not felt well for a few weeks. Some days he noticed that he was feverish. So he went to this older physician to be examined. And now this was the verdict: consumption! In those days (about forty years ago) the word, consumption, from a doctor's lips was just like a sentence of death. The disease was considered practically incur-

A DOCTOR AND THE WHITE PLAGUE 37

able. So, as the young Dr. Trudeau staggered out into the street, despair took the place of hope and happiness in his heart. He knew what lay before him, for he had nursed a brother who had this disease and had seen him die. Next week, he knew, his cough would be worse, and his face and body would be thinner and more haggard and the next week it would be the same story, only worse still, until death should end it all.

But Edward Trudeau was not a young man who easily gave up. He remembered that now and then cases of consumption had been cured by a change of climate. He heard that the air in the Adirondack Mountains was very good for consumptives. So he set out for Paul Smith's Hotel, on the Saranac River, among the Adirondacks. This was in the month of May. He spent the summer fishing, hunting, and camping in the woods, most of the time out-of-doors. And when he returned to the city about the end of September, he had gained fifteen pounds in weight and seemed the picture of health. During the winter, however, the old trouble came back, and by the next spring he was nearly as sick as the year before. So he set out for the mountains once again, taking with him his wife and two children; and this time he not only stayed tlirough the summer, but stayed on through the winter, too.

Every one thought that this was most rash and foolish ; for the winters in the Adirondacks are cold. The temperature often goes far below zero. And it was supposed that cold air was sure death for a consumptive. Nevertheless, the Trudeaus braved the snow and ice, and when the springtime came, the sick man was almost well again. Another summer passed, and another winter, and still he continued to improve. The disease had been checked ; perhaps it was entirely cured. This seemed wonderful. Other doctors began to talk about this young man who had cured himself of consumption by staying in the Adirondacks in the winter, where the snow was five feet deep and the mercury hung around the zero mark for weeks at a time. The result was that one of Dr. Trudeau's physician friends sent a few of his consumptive patients up to Saranac Lake in his charge to see whether the winter climate would help them also. And about the year 1883 the young doctor started a sanatorium for consumptives by the beautiful lake among the mountains. Now that God had helped him to find a spot where he might be cured of this dreadful disease, he determined to do what he could to help others