SAVED FROM A CRIME

Ashburton Guardian, Volume VII, Issue 1749, 25 January 1888, Page 2

SAVED FROM A CRIME

INCIDENTS IN THE LIFE OF A WAIF AND STRAY. * Bt T. J. Babnardo, F.R.O.S.Ed. Twenty years ago Govent Garden was one fmy "happy bunting grounds." The naasket was then less carefully watohed than m later years. It was no unusual thing to find there, when the shades of night had fallen, numbers of homeless boys and girls who had contrived a she ter for themselves within its precincts, m the empty barrels, hampers, or oarts which were arranged m orderly fashion at the extreme ends, or which lay m confusion nearer the great faotors' stalls. The beadle of the market at that time was a functionary somewhat advanoed m years. He was, moreover, afflicted with rheumatism; so that, although he was exceedingly Bhrewd and quiok, m a general way, to disoern the contrivances adopted by the street children to elude his vigilance, yet he was not unfrequently deceived by the cunning which these town gamins developed m their hand-to-mouth existenoe. At times I have eeen the feeble old man, whom, m virtae of his infirmity, they irreverently oalled "Joe Dot-and-go-one," sarrounded by a crowd of boys and girls, danoing at a safe distance from bis etiok, and endeavouring to irritate him by calling him names or dwelling upon his peculiarities. This' was, of oonrae, only when poor Old Joe, aB he was called familiarly about the markets, had one of his bad bouts of rheumatism on. At other times he could step around briskly •nough, and woe betide the unfortunate youngater who got within reach of his offioial eanel I frequently mot Old Jot on my midnight rounds, and wai not long m discovering that, m spite of the irascibility whioh his decrepitude and the children's pranki continually provoked, he had at bottom a really kind heart. Many and many a poor ohild he brought under my notice as being quits friendless and alone about the market, and it was through his good offices that I suooeeded m taking not a few of these to the shelter of our " Homes for Boys and Girls." On one occasion, however, about the date when this story opens, I reaohod Oovent Garden, after a short absence, late on a i winter's evening, and was met by a young military-looking man m the fall glory of a new beadle's uniform. On inquiry, I found that poor Old Joe was dead, and that the smart stalwart beadle who stood before me reigned m his stead. Of him, after a brief chat, I inquired, " Well, have you seen many youngsters about here to-night? I mean boys and girls of my sort?" The beadle ■hook his head somewhat boastfully, I thought, as he replied, " Cstoh 'em oomin' about here when I'm on the ground. I guesa they knows better I At any rate, you're welcome to all you can find. I expect you won't have a heavy load 1" Wishing him good-night, or rather goo3 morning, for it was then past midnight, the little guide whom I had ohartered and myself continued our slow walk through the market, looking here and there searchingly at the old acoustomed spots, peeping ioto oarts, climbing over huge piles of vegetable baskets, or upturning a dozen hampers m quest of homeless street waifs : but m vain. Wnether the terror of the new beadle had really saffioed to drive off the young habitues of the place, or whether the old adage was perhaps being fulfilled m his case, that «• a new broom ■weeps olean," I could not say; but after half an hour's patient but fruitless searoh we were leaving the market, when my steps were arrested by a remark whioh fell from the lips of my boy guide. We were at the time on that side of Oovent Garden Market opposite to Evans's, but further west, and the whole oorner was at that hour quite m the shade. " That's a fine lay up there, Sir," said my young companion, pointing with his hand. "It 'ud just fit a young feller like me firstrate once't I was op, for no bobby 'd ever get up there,. l'm sure, aud I don't think many of 'em would think of lookin' at it." I well knew the shrewdness ot my little guide, for I had recently experienced the value of trusting to his keener eyesight ; so I paused to examine again more carefully the object to whioh he pointed, and of whioh he Bpoke. This was what I saw : An open-air stall of the simplest Bort had been oonatruoted of rough boards to expose fruit or vegetables for salo. The roof consisted of three or four boards laid across a plank whioh ran along the front, and was supported at each corner by what looked like a broom-handle resting, m its turn, upon an' up-turned apple barreTT This roof would probably keep the rays of the sun from whatever was exposed m the stall, or from the vendor, but it seemed of so fragile a character that one would never think of examining it twioe when searohing for homeless children. But my little guide saw what had escaped my notioa. Across the planks that formed the roof, but somewhat behind, lay an Orange Trunk— one of those frail and comparatively shallow boxes, consisting of thin boards, some six inohes m depth, but varying m length from three fest to five, which contain the golden fruit from Spain and Florida. The box m question was one of the longer sort, twelve inohes wide and eighteen deep by about five feet long; still it looked so shallow, and the roof so fragile, that I would have passed it by even when painted out to me bad I not been assured by my really clever guide that suoh lads as he would often be glad of suoh a shelter if they could but reach it safely. At all events there the box was : and our next question was, How were we to get at it ? To olimb up was impossible. The shortest way would be to pull out carefully the broom handles whioh formed the front pillars, and ■o to bring the whole down upon our uplifted hand* raised to support the longitudinal plank. No Booner said than done ; but we had miscalculated our strength, for when we had removed the broom handles, the weight of the orange box brought the entire row of planks abqut our ears, and then, ere we could Btop it, the whole rolled to the ground with a great noise, involving, of course, the rapid descent of the orange box and its contents. Its contents ? Yes ; for ere the commotion we had created bad quite ceased, out of it there leapt, vigorously rubbing his eyes, with a look of guilty amazement, a lad who had, as my guide euspeotea, aotually chosen that odd dormitory ao as to be securely undisturbed through the night, Even then I noticed that, instead of lying m the open box, whioh would have exposed him to possible oold and wet, he had had the good sense to lie down upon the planks with his feet drawn up, and then to pull tlie case over him bottom upwards, , whioh thus served to shelter him, as well as to Boreen him from observation 1 The boy was on his feet m an instant, ready to dart off; but my bull's-eye lantern was quickly turntd on, and I grasped him kindly but firmly by the shoulder. When th« flash of light from my lantern first fell upon his face, the youngster, imagining that I was either a guardian of the night or the beadle of the market, was loud m his protestations of innocence and requests to be allowed to go home ; but a few minutes showed him that he had nothing to fear, and I learned enough, even m that baßty oolloquy, to know that be was just suoh a obild as T was m searoh of —a genuine homeless boy, one of the Isbmaels of eooiety, an Arab of the streets, a gutter child, to use the soornful phrase whioh is employed by bo many to sweep up suoh as he ; one, m short, who lived on, the Btreetß and hj the streets, I had taken the usual precaution of carrying m my pocket a few slioes of a very tempting oako, and after one of these bad been transferred to and eagerly devoured by my young captive, be had little hesitation m accepting my offers of assistance, as soon as I had explained to him who I was, where I came from, and why I had disturbed his slumbers. By this time we were all so tired that I lost no further time m turning my face eastward, and without more ado conducting my new acquisition to the Stepney Home. The appearance of the lad waa eminently oaloulated to awaken both sympathy and interest. He was very slim and thin for his eleven years ; he bore a haU-starved expression on bis wan face, and bad soaroely a rag upon him worthy of the name of olothes. His feet were perfeotly bare. His features, however, presented bo great a contrast to the type generally found upon the streets that I felt sure I was either upon the brink of some discovery or that the lad I had just found was an altogether exceptional speoimen of the genus " Street Arab." His hair, which was of a fair, almost flaxen, oolor, hung m tangled masses about his head and face, 'but could not conceal the lofty, well-fchaped forehead or the ardhed eyebrows enoiroling the most wonderful orbs I had ever observed m a ohild of the streets. His faoe'was deeply pallid and bis oheeks were drawn in',~ buf this was evidently from cold, exposure; and want of nourishment. His nose, straight Btid regularly i , formed, inoreasid tbe aUrietfrjaees of & face <

that was already somewhat remarkable for good looks. Then there was the sweetest

little mouth conceivable, within whioh there shone pearly white toeth of regular shape, while his well-formed chin relieved, by its squareness and decisive charaoter, the otherwise somewhat effeminate look of the upper part of his pretty faoe. His expression, whioh was strikingly open and honest-looking, spoke of a charaoter that was candid and ingenuous, and I may at once say that his subsequent, career did no!- belie this conclusion

His story, repeated to me the next day at leisure, was a most pathetic and suggestive one. It appears he had never known his father, but had always lived, together with an older brother and sister, with his mother m a poor street m the parish of St George's Southwark. His mother was a confirmed

thief, and she bad always brought up her children m dishonest ways. She was too ' cunning herself ever to run muoh risk of detection, being more a companion and abettor of criminals than an aotive agent. But the police had long suspected her, and the boy told me that often they had stopped him and his brother on the streets when they were living together, and asked them questions whioh indicated that their suspicions wera aroused, not only as regards the mother, but also as regards all her ohildrtn. Suoh snipioions were not groundless. The elder boy and girl had gradually fallen into the groove of the mother's evil life, and had developed m the coarse of time into expert yonng thieves. At first, my boy, whose name was George, had naturally obeyed his mother, and robbed the oheap shops and markets of goods exposed and not well watohed, but as he grew older he exhibited more and more re* pugnanoe to this course of life, till at length ha boldly refused to oontinu* any longer as a thief.

It seems almost incredible that a yonng child, at that time not quite nine years of age, who had, moreover, never had any previous instruction m honest ways, who had had no religious teaching of any sort whatever, who had never onoe attended a day sohool or a Sunday sohool, and who had not at any time been inside a pla'oe of worship, should have set up for himself a code of morals higher than the standard around him, and be eon* tent to bring down upon his unfortunate head the physical consequences of disobedienoe, when to yield would have been, apparently, so much more easy and almost more natural. But so it was m poor Goorge'a cage, for nofch. ing oame out more clearly than that he had resisted, frequently and definitely his mother's cunning advances and his brother's florae suggestions. He at length ezperienoed from their united hands suob a succession of unmerciful beatings, that, when only a little past his ninth year, he fled from the wretched room whioh he had hitherto always called home, and betook himself to a street life, aver keep* ing a wary eye upon the movements of his mother and brother, careful never to plaoe himßelt again within their reaoh ! Home is embalmed m the hearts of thousands, charged with memories of all -that is holiest and loveliest on earth. But to escape from it was, m George's case, the only hope for the .batter self within him, while its memories were theme alone of vice and sin, of degradation and negleot.

(To be continued )