CHILDREN ASTRAY LONDON: HUMPHREY MILFORD 
Oxford University Press CHILDREN ASTRAY 
BY 
SAUL DRUCKER 
\v\ 
Superintendent, Home for Jewish Children, Boston 
AND 
MAURICE BECK HEXTER, M.A. 
Executive Director 
Federated Jewish Charities, Boston 
INTRODUCTION 
BY 
RICHARD C. CABOT, M.D. 
Professor of Social Ethics, Harvard University 
CAMBRIDGE 
HARVARD UNIVERSITY PRESS 
1923 COPYRIGHT, 1923 
BY HARVARD UNIVERSITY PRESS 
PRINTED AT THE HARVARD UNIVERSITY PRESS 
CAMBRIDGE, MASS., U. S. A. With love for and faith in our “problems ” past 
and present, in the hope that among our readers 
will he found some who, seeing that rough 
edges may he smoothed, will take heart and give 
Children Astray another chance, the writers 
inscribe this, their first formal publication, to 
LOUIS E. KIRSTEIN 
a humanist in business PREFACE 
THESE cases are presented with two entirely distinct, 
although not divergent, aims. One of these is the grad- 
ual creation of a teaching literature for social work. Just as 
law, medicine, business administration, logic, and even 
ethics, can best be taught by the case-method, so social 
work, which often cuts across all these other fields, can best 
be transmitted to prospective workers through study of 
cases. The presentation of social case-histories involves 
problems different from those of legal cases, a difference in 
which inhere both a strength and a weakness. In legal cases 
there is an ultimate decision before a supreme judicial body. 
In social work authoritative procedure and technique have 
still to be worked out, and, what is more important, there 
never issues a final decision as to who is right and who is 
wrong. 
The second aim in the presentation of these cases is to 
demonstrate the possibilities of using orphanages for special 
cases, rather than utilizing such institutions only for the 
easy and “normal” problem of child dependency. Such a 
practice is exactly opposite to that followed so religiously by 
all such institutions up to a decade ago and still lingering 
in many places. 
Other types of case-histories are now emerging into print. 
Those issued by the Judge Baker Foundation are admirable. 
Our own cases are presented from a different point of view. 
The Judge Baker Foundation presents the work of psychol- 
ogists from the psychological point of view primarily, with 
incidental attention to sociological settings and implications. 
Our cases are presented frankly from the sociological point 
of view, with incidental reference to psychological diagnoses 
and prognoses. Both of these methods may be used simul- 
taneously; they are not mutually exclusive. Who shall say, 
VII VIII 
PREFACE 
ex cathedra, which method is to be preferred, particularly at 
the present juncture? This difference in viewpoint is im- 
portant, however, in understanding cases. 
Further explanatory data must be presented to the reader 
or student, so that full judgment can be passed upon the 
cases. The aim, equipment, and resources of those who 
worked with these children are important. 
All of these cases were handled by one of the writers, in 
his capacity as head of an orphanage. His collaborator in 
this work may be allowed to explain that the one who handled 
these cases is a man of broad sympathies, patient in the ex- 
treme, a lover of children, and possessing an uncanny ability 
to discover and develop special abilities in every child. As 
head of the Orphanage, he had at his disposal various tools, 
such as Art Classes, Boy Scouts, Self-Government Organiza- 
tions, and others, all of which he brought to bear, in the 
proper proportion, in these various cases. 
All of these cases have their origin in a large eastern sea- 
port. The community is large enough to be self-contained 
philanthropically, that is, all the well-recognized forms of 
social service are in existence and were available for the 
proper development of these cases. Most of them came to 
the attention of one of the writers through the Children’s 
Bureau of that community, which was the clearing agency for 
all children’s problems. 
The writers have to thank the officials and workers of the 
various agencies for their extreme courtesy in gathering some 
of the later data. Their names shall remain undisclosed, as 
a further aid in securing anonymity for the cases presented — 
a liberty which the writers trust will be pardoned. 
Maurice B. Hexter. CONTENTS 
INTRODUCTION xi 
CHAPTER I 
TRUANTS 
Case A. Paul I “Poetical Doughnuts” 5 
Case B. Thomas E “Peewee” 20 
Case C. Irving I “The Prize-Fighter” 35 
CHAPTER II 
WEAKLINGS 
Case A. Carl P “The Stool-Pigeon” 49 
Case B. Parker E “From a Fagin Laboratory” ... 67 
Case C. Billy A “The Invalid” 86 
CHAPTER III 
WANDERERS 
Case A. Benjamin E “A Babe Ruth” 101 
Case B. Frank L “A Soldier of Fortune” 117 
Case C. Isidore S “A Knight of the Streets” . . . 141 
CHAPTER IV 
PILFERERS 
Case A. Elsie G “The Prima Donna” 159 
Case B. Philip L “Raffles, Jr.” 186 
Case C. Otto L “A Straggler” 202 
IX X 
CONTENTS 
CHAPTER V 
CHARACTERIALLY DEFECTIVE 
Case A. Peter E “The Autocrat” 219 
Case B. Pauline E “Maggie” or “Mrs. Jiggs” . 233 
Case C. Anna and Mary J “Struck by Lightning” . . 245 
CHAPTER VI 
PRECOCIOUS 
Case A. Harry K “Just Another Edison” . . 263 
Case B. Polly S “Miss Spitfire” 277 
Case C. Carrie F “The Scapegoat” 303 
CHAPTER VII 
SEX PROBLEMS 
Case A. Samuel H “The Cherub” 329 
Case B. Edna N “Angel-Face” 336 
Case C. Mary E “A Stepchild of Fate” . . 352 
CHAPTER VIII 
INTRACTABLES 
Case A. Edward P “The Christmas Gift” . . 373 
Case B. Joseph K “Chinky” 387 
Case C. Bernard J “The Photographer” . . . 404 INTRODUCTION 
SINCE these twenty-four character sketches are given us with- 
out comment on the wonders which they contain, it seems well 
to sketch some of the scenery amidst which they occur, and to 
answer as best I can some of the questions sure to spring up in the 
minds of readers — gentle or fierce. I have something to say on 
the following topics: 
I. The Home and its Resources. 
II. The Selection of the Twenty-Four Cases. 
III. The Episodes (not Life Histories) presented. 
IV. Can the Cases be identified? 
V. Was it justifiable to mingle these Morally Contagious Chil- 
dren with the “Normal” Inhabitants of the Orphanage? 
VI. A Statistical Sketch of the whole Group from which these 
Cases were selected. 
VII. The Monotony of Delinquency versus the Variety of Living 
Character. 
VIII. The Form of these Records. 
IX. How the Work was done. 
X. Literary Values in Case-Recording. 
The boys and girls whose fortunes are described so picturesquely 
in these pages, were cared for in an orphanage. Why was this? 
The trend of recent opinion has certainly been against the insti- 
tutional management of children, whenever it can be avoided. In 
hospitals, in reform schools, and sometimes in truant schools, it is 
recognized that children must, for a time, be institutionalized. 
But orphanages and similar places which mass children, away from 
home and home influences, are ordinarily frowned on. To “place 
out” orphans and neglected or dependent children in foster homes, 
where they come to be treated as members of the family — this is 
the orthodox social policy. “Placing out” certainly can be either 
the best or the worst policy for non-delinquent children,— the best 
if suitable foster homes are available and adequate supervision is 
given through the timely visits of well-trained visitors, — the 
worst if the children are hidden away out of sight in families who 
exploit or neglect them. 
But for wayward, “stubborn,” or delinquent children, not so 
advanced in criminality as to need confinement in a reformatory, 
I. The Home and its Resources 
XI XII 
INTRODUCTION 
yet clearly going from bad to worse in their own homes, the policy 
of “placing out” is often unsuccessful. The change from city life 
and street gangs to suburban or country life, with its simpler and 
healthier experiences, may be all that the delinquent needs — 
especially in the milder cases. Often, however, the new home 
works no better than the old. The child has to be “placed” again 
and again, until finally it becomes clear that this policy does not 
work. 
Under these circumstances, or when first-rate foster homes are 
not available, institutional life and especially institutional training 
without legal confinement may be just what is needed. 
From the point of view of its usefulness to “difficult children,” 
what are the advantages of an institution such as that which forms 
the background of the stories in this book? 
1. Most important, I think, is the opportunity given in such an 
institution for the personal influence of adults skilled in the sym- 
pathetic understanding and wise guidance of rebellious or per- 
verted youngsters. In this book we get glimpses of the skill, the 
wisdom, and the affection wThich the superintendent and his assist- 
ants brought to the development of the best and so to the conver- 
sion of the worst element in twenty-four children. Such teaching 
and guidance as this a child may occasionally find in a foster home. 
But all will agree, I fancy, that such good fortune is rare. 
2. This central guidance is here reinforced by a group of influ- 
ences not to be found in foster homes: 
(a) The system of monitors and of Big Brothers or Big Sisters. 
No adult can do for certain children what an older girl or boy can 
do. English public schools and the American private schools 
modeled upon them, have long recognized and utilized this fact 
of child-psychology. 
In the child’s own home, in a foster home or in the neighborhood, 
the supply of suitable Big Brothers and Big Sisters is often scanty. 
We wish we could find and enlist the right sort of helper many times 
for every once that we find him. But in and around an orphanage, 
such as houses the subjects of these stories, one can develop and 
maintain a constant supply. Among the orphans who remain there 
for years, some can be trained by precept and experience to practise 
the art of “Big Brotherhood.” Obviously the Big Brothers them- 
selves will profit at least as much as their wards. To teach is one of 
the swiftest ways of learning. Hence no one can feel any hesitation 
in enlisting the older children or adults outside the institution in 
this task. One is asking no favor and imposing no unfair burden. 
It is a valuable opportunity. INTRODUCTION 
XIII 
(6) Physical and Mental Care. In the foster home or in the child’s 
own home it is possible by sufficient effort to supervise his diet, his 
bathing, and his habits of sleep, to procure physical and mental 
examination, and to avoid either an excess or deficiency of good 
recreation. But the difficulties of accomplishing all this are far 
greater than in an institution. One of the most powerful reinforce- 
ments to the personal influence of the superintendent, his assistants, 
and his “monitors,” is certainly the system of physical care and 
examination maintained in the institution. 
(c) Boy Scout Activities. With the superintendent as self- 
appointed Scout Master, the training and fellowship of “scouting” 
is brought within reach of each child. There is no compulsion 
about it. In this as in many other of the Home’s activities the 
children are led to feel that they manage things themselves and 
the atmosphere of the place is happy and free. 
(id) Constant Occupation. The child’s day is filled so full, that 
his super-abundant energy has little time to get him into mischief. 
When he returns from the public day school (which he attends 
outside the institution) the rest of the afternoon is spent in manual 
work: the boys on the farm, in the machine-shop, or at printing 
presses, the girls in dressmaking, designing, and kindred pursuits. 
In the printing shop the children set up and manage their own 
Home newspaper. Meantime, enough job printing is done to pay 
for all expenses, including the salary of an instructor. 
For the younger children there is supervised play in the after- 
noon hours, and music lessons are provided for both sexes. 
(e) The Care of Pet Animals. With unusual insight into child- 
psychology, there has been a recognition that for certain children 
the care of pet animals is an important road to salvation. Despite 
the inconveniences of unhouse-broken animals roaming at large, 
the children have the care of numerous dogs, cats, and rabbits. By 
this appeal to the nurturing instinct, unselfish interests and latent 
tenderness are drawn up to the surface. 
Throughout the management of the institution runs the superin- 
tendent’s belief that the delinquents living there are normal 
children, whose loose and undirected energies have thus far led 
them into mischief. Indeed he believes that boys who have n’t 
energy enough to make trouble for their elders are harder to deal 
with and more likely to be abnormal. Like many others he has 
often found that under proper guidance “the worst boys are the 
best,” the natural leaders of their fellows. Such a creed is not new, 
but in my experience its truth has rarely been more beneficently 
demonstrated. XIV 
INTRODUCTION 
II. The Selection of the Twenty-Four Cases 
The twenty-four children whose stories are here told were se- 
lected from a total of one hundred and twenty-five who passed 
through this orphanage during a period of six years. Why were not 
all of the one hundred and twenty-five cases presented? Because 
the book would have been inconveniently long. 
What then is the principle of selection? I am assured by the 
writers of this book that they have made no attempt to pick out 
“show cases,” or to present only their successes and none of their 
failures. Indeed they consider three of these twenty-four cases as 
definite failures. The twenty-four cases were selected not to prove 
100 per cent of success but to give the reader representatives of the 
most important groups or types among those cared for in the or- 
phanage. Thus of the eight “sex cases” dealt with in this six-year 
period, three are presented here, while of twenty-eight “truancy 
cases,” the writers have also selected three. In this sense and only 
in this sense has there been any selection so far as Mr. Hexter and 
Mr. Drucker are aware. 
Even with the inclusion of three recognized failures and of others 
with dubious results, even when we allow for the fact that episodes 
(not whole lives) are dealt with, and for the possibility that some 
of these waifs might have straightened out their own careers un- 
aided — despite all these allowances, the degree of apparent suc- 
cess does at times seem almost miraculous. 
III. The Episodes (not Life Histories) presented 
Those responsible for this book are quite aware that they have 
pictured in it only certain episodes or periods in the lives of twenty- 
four children. They make no claim that the whole future of these 
irrepressible youngsters is mirrored in the record of a few years. 
Our authors have described here their efforts to straighten bent 
twigs. They hope that as the early twist is here measurably recti- 
fied so will the future growth of these vigorous lives go straight on 
towards light and strength. But no one can be sure of this or of 
anything, except that the boys and girls who race through the 
pages of this book have been given a fair chance (a remarkably 
good chance I think). They have responded, for the time at least, 
very hopefully. They have accepted much that was offered them 
and have made a fresh start. 
This is much. No one claims that it is all. Neither this free 
chance nor the free will to turn back into their old ways can be INTRODUCTION 
taken away. It is “up to them” now. Some of the handicaps of 
early experiences and early neglect have been thrown off; they 
leave the orphanage without crushing or unnatural burdens. 
Episodes then — but in some cases, for example in the “Prima 
Donna’s,” episodes of remarkable length for a case record. Few 
social records that I have read have carried the story over a period 
of sixteen years. Another record covers eighteen years. 
XV 
IV. Can the Cases be identified? 
Anyone who prints such episodes as these, such passages from 
the lives of real people, is bound to make as sure as he can that he 
has disguised them so that recognition is impossible. Should the 
individuals concerned, or should any relative or friend of theirs, 
recognize the pictures here presented, it would certainly be un- 
fortunate. The authors have therefore taken great pains to dis- 
guise in various ways the personalities here described so that 
recognition is believed to be excluded beyond a reasonable doubt. 
V. Was it justifiable to take into an Orphanage 
among Normal Non-Delinquent Children these 
Morally Contagious Delinquents? 
Realizing as we must how much harm a child obsessed with 
ideas about sex can do in a group of normal children, one may well 
sympathize with the doubts felt by some of the directors of the 
Orphanage and candidly described in some of these records. In 
answer to these fears it is to be said: 
1. That the superintendent deliberately matched his great influ- 
ence against that of the delinquent child, realizing the risk and 
setting himself to avert it. 
2. That to send such morally contagious children to their own 
homes or to “place them out” in families (with access to school) 
is not to isolate them. Wherever they are, they are a danger to 
other children. But in the Orphanage there was opportunity to 
displace their morbid obsessions by the pressure of good interests, 
and thus to render them less harmful than they would be elsewhere. 
At home or under almost any conditions outside an institution, 
there is not only the chance (as in the Orphanage, admittedly) but 
the certainty of their corrupting other children. On the whole it 
seems fortunate that the majority of the Directors decided as they 
did to admit some delinquents, even of the more corrupting type, 
into an institution peopled chiefly by non-delinquent orphans. XVI 
INTRODUCTION 
VI. A Statistical Sketch of the Group from which 
these Twenty-Four Cases were selected 
During the six-year period within which all of these studies fall 
there were one hundred and twenty-five “difficult” children ad- 
mitted. Their difficulties can be classified as follows: 
1. 
Pilfering and Petty Larceny 
39 
2. 
Truancy 
28 
3. 
"General Waywardness” 
21 
4. 
"Sex Problems” 
8 
5. 
“Temperamentally Defective” 
7 
6. 
Epilepsy 
2 
7. 
Charged with Arson 
1 
8. 
Feeble-mindedness 
1 
107 
In addition there were eighteen classified at entrance merely 
as "Former Reformatory Cases” 
18 
125 
I have put cautious quotation marks around some of these titles. 
I might well have so marked them all. The writers of this book do 
not take this classification very seriously, nor can any intelligent 
person. Their task has been to get behind the labeled “symp- 
toms” which brought these children into collision with parents, 
neighbors, or policemen; to find the central weakness and the 
central strength in each child, and then to work with him towards 
his own salvation. How well they appear to have succeeded in this, 
we may get some idea from the writers’ estimate of their result: 
Self-supporting for a year or more since leaving the Home, 
apparently “normal children” 
40 
“Successful Cases,” still remaining in the Home until self- 
supporting 
43 
Attending college, polytechnic institute, or high school 
13 
“Successful Cases,” sent to relatives 
6 
“Definite Failures,” sent to “reformatory” 
4 
Feeble-minded with criminal tendencies, sent to School for 
Feeble-Minded 
1 
Outcome uncertain 
18 
Deducting the 18 cases with uncertain results there remain but 
five failures in the attempt to help 107 “difficult children.” Even 
if all the eighteen doubtful results are included with the known INTRODUCTION 
XVII 
failures, there are but twenty-three out of one hundred and twenty- 
five in which no certain improvement can be found. Surely a most 
astounding record. 
Personally I should rather say that at least one hundred and two 
out of one hundred and twenty-five have made a fresh start, re- 
sponding to the varied opportunities and the friendly influences 
brought within their reach. With a helping hand they have climbed 
up. They seem glad to be up, glad of what they can see and do upon 
the new level. We may have good hope that they will persist there, 
or go higher. 
VII. The Monotony of Delinquency versus the 
Variety of Living Character 
One of the great merits of this book is that before the end each 
case record shows us not a type but an individual, an intensely 
human unpredictable figure, stranger than fiction, unique. To 
reach this goal we, like the children themselves, wade through 
muddy acres of perversity, law-breaking, and vice. How diverse 
the virtues! How similar the crimes! Is it not amazing, — the 
smooth uniformity of nail-biting, bunking-out, truancy, obscenity, 
and theft? In these elements the stories are so much alike that one 
almost forgets which is which, until the child himself speaks up. 
Then he is transformed into an independent, life-like, usually lik- 
able being. No matter how mournfully alike all the rest of the 
reports of his vices, he is himself delightfully individual in his view 
of life. 
It is especially for this contrast and completion that I thank the 
authors. They show us the child himself, behind his clothes, his 
dirt, his diseases, and his delinquencies. Dirt makes us all look 
alike. Modern clothes, even a young rebel’s clothes, disguise vital 
differences. In pain, fever, delirium, dementia, we are all so much 
more alike than we are in health, that no one thinks of judging a 
person’s character solely from what he shows of himself in illness. 
Because disease comes to a man out of his heredity and his environ- 
ment we know in advance that we shall not find his central person- 
ality in his diseased behavior. So it is with delinquencies. They 
cannot be ignored in character study. But, like diseases, they are 
monotonously similar, and never central. 
Perhaps each sin, as the sinner and God see it, is as unique as 
any part of his personality. But certain it is that the records of 
delinquency, as the world’s coarse thumb and finger sort them out 
in piles, obscure the clear outlines of the children till they look un- 
naturally, untruly alike. XVIII 
INTRODUCTION 
Gang life and street life wipe out the lineaments of individuality 
till they can scarcely be recognized by him who runs or by her who 
currently writes social records. The more honor to these writers 
who, as they deal with delinquent gangster and street waif, push 
behind his disguises to discover his soul, yes, to discover it even to 
himself. 
Part of each record shows us the straggler, the scapegoat, and the 
cherub from his own point of view, from inside. Of how few social 
records, except those of the Judge Baker Foundation, can this be 
said! Most case records are dull reading because they describe 
chiefly the struggles and technique of social workers, the diagnoses 
of doctor, psychiatrist, or bewildered parent. But these character 
sketches on the contrary are readable because they are individual, 
because they go behind the scenes and give us fragments of some- 
one’s life as he sees it himself. 
Here emerges another merit apparent in these studies. The 
authors never get swamped by any of the nineteenth-century fads 
about heredity, environment, and adaptation. They use these 
phrases freely. They dutifully list all the domestic and environ- 
mental items which good method obliges us to accumulate. But 
in the end there appears nevertheless an individual boy or girl not 
to be “ explained ” by any or all of these. As soon as the child opens 
his mouth to speak we are aware of a new person who never could 
have been predicted from the data about his family and his sur- 
roundings. 
Twentieth-century fads like psychoanalysis are also refreshingly 
ignored in this book. It is a mystery how a girl like the “Prima 
Donna” could have escaped a Freudian analysis and treatment. 
Indeed I fully expect that, because she recovered, some psycho- 
analyst reviewing this book will claim that his method was actually 
used. But, thank heaven, it was n’t! 
Another good point in these histories is the avoidance of undue 
emphasis on the measurable parts of personality or on the attempt 
to measure without defining a child’s “intelligence.” Intelligence 
Quotients are included as they should be, but they are never taken 
too seriously. They are rightly balanced and interpreted by the 
other known facts about the child and his behavior. 
VIII. The Form of the Records 
The essentials of good form in a record are, I take it: 
(a) The accurate transcription of all essential data, so arranged 
that the reader can easily find any particular item, such as “home INTRODUCTION 
XIX 
conditions” or “physical examination,” and can make his own 
comparisons or statistical combinations as he goes from case to 
case. 
(6) The use of such a style that the recorded episode is interest- 
ing and therefore true to life. An uninteresting record gives neces- 
sarily a false impression, because human life itself is interesting. 
So long as these specifications are met there are, I believe, as 
many ways of writing a good case record as there are purposes 
to be served by it. No single form is under all conditions to be 
preferred. 
Mr. Hexter’s and Mr. Drucker’s method seems to me well suited 
to its purpose and lacking in none of the essentials. They arrange 
their voluminous material under four main headings which are 
uniform throughout all these cases. 
1. The Problem. 
2. The Analysis. 
3. The Treatment. 
4. The Result. 
The first of these is subdivided, so that we study 
The Problem: (a) In delinquencies. 
(6) At home. 
(c) In school. 
(d) Elsewhere. 
Confessedly these rubrics allow of some overlapping — as when for 
example delinquencies occur in school. But as we read the stories 
this logical objection comes to nothing. We easily find what we 
want. 
The analysis is subdivided as follows: 
Analysis: 1. Physical. 
2. Mental. 
3. Social. 
(а) Heredity. 
(б) Development. 
(c) Habits and interests. 
(d) Home conditions. 
The term “ heredity ” is not used here in a strict biological sense, but 
includes the whole family background of the child as seen in his 
parents, his brothers, and his sisters. Sometimes this part of the 
record is developed so fully that we gain considerable insight into 
the life of a whole family. Sometimes we get so interested in the XX 
INTRODUCTION 
family that it is hard to pull ourselves back to the leading character 
of the drama when at the word Development we are suddenly con- 
fronted with the details of our hero’s childhood. 
Coming to the Treatment, we are glad to find in it those two 
essentials of an interesting story which “Alice in Wonderland” has 
authoritatively named: pictures (word-picture) and conversation. 
But are these fascinating conversations to be taken as verbally and 
literally accurate? The writers assert nothing of the sort; for al- 
though they have been in the habit of making notes of talks with 
children, as soon as possible after the talk occurred, yet they have 
not limited themselves exclusively to the phrases recorded at the 
time. They are certain, however, that the remarks here recorded 
are essentially like those spoken at the time, convey the true spirit 
of the conversations which actually took place. 
The Results have in many cases the rare merit of spanning a con- 
siderable period of years. Few social records cover a period from 
1906 to 1922. This element of duration is, I think, the point which 
we most need to be sure of in a result, so far as form is concerned. 
As to the matter of these extraordinary results I have said some- 
thing on another page. 
(а) A kindly and fatherly feeling towards the children is every- 
where evident. Their failings are never harshly judged. Their 
pranks and even their misdeeds excite unconcealed amusement or 
sympathy in those who record them. Thus the reader sees through 
the child’s own eyes because the writers have done so. I never 
heard of another superintendent who consented to go and be looked 
over by a gutter snipe who wanted to inspect him before deciding 
whether he would go to the Home or not. “Was yer a bad boy 
too?” he inquires as the humble superintendent stands before him, 
hat in hand, waiting to be judged. Admirable humility! And it 
won. 
(б) But the genuine affection which shines through these stories 
is never perverted into weak indulgence. Firm control of the situa- 
tion, frank readiness to decide what is best for the boy or girl con- 
cerned, is assumed as an obvious duty. The superintendent is not 
elected Scout Master. He takes the position. 
Sometimes the method employed to achieve the child’s good 
carries us into the psychologist’s field, where we see employed — 
with excellent results — the method of “suggestion.” Thus, in the 
“Prima Donna” the low tones of the white-sheeted “ghost” pene- 
trate so deeply into the girl’s mind and stamp there so durable an 
IX. How the Work was done INTRODUCTION 
XXI 
impression that her reformation is at last complete. Indeed the 
beneficent influence of suggestion is to be seen in almost every case. 
The impish disciple of “The Lobster” was influenced to believe 
that only his mother’s intercession and the pleas of his “Big 
Brother” had prevented his being sent to the reformatory. Later 
it was made to appear that he was being given one more chance only 
in pity for his mother. 
Fashions of therapeutics are changing rapidly in social work as 
they do in medicine. Methods which in 1906 — the initial date of 
the “Prima Donna” — were generally approved are now chal- 
lenged by some. Yet this challenge finds many answers. The 
kindly intent guiding us, the unimpeachable results obtained by 
“suggestion” and by other under-cover methods still convince 
many high-minded people that some measure of ambiguity, some 
dissembling of our intentions is helpful and right in social thera- 
peutics. Thus in “ The Family ” for November, 1922, Miss Marjory 
Warren of the Boston Family Welfare Society points out three 
possible situations in which the social worker is justified in deceiv- 
ing a client: 
(1) “In cases of suspected mental trouble.” 
(2) When the obdurate unmarried mother refuses to let her 
family know of her trouble. 
(3) In “cruelty to children” cases where we have good grounds 
for suspecting immorality in the home. 
In these cases the deception consists merely in concealing for a 
short time our intention and in investigating or imparting facts 
contrary to the client’s wishes. Later we are to confess to him 
what we have done, after the results have justified — even in his 
eyes — the means which we have used. 
But not everyone agrees to these ethics. A veteran social 
worker, Frederick Almy of Buffalo, asks in the December issue of 
“The Family” whether many others agree with Miss Warren that 
in these cases the end (and the motive?) justifies the means. But, 
so far (March, 1923) no answer to this question has appeared in 
“The Family.” 
Obviously, then, there is no unanimity among social workers on 
the ethics of employing towards clients a kindly and successful 
ruse. Yet there is evidence recently of a reaction against the use 
of such methods. Indeed the beneficent magician behind the white 
sheet has himself told me that to-day he would not use such a strata- 
gem. He could work his kindly miracles without it. I am wholly 
of this, his later, opinion. Deception of any kind, no matter how 
good the motives and the results, is, I believe, wrong in social XXII 
INTRODUCTION 
work. Good ends do not justify bad means and can be obtained 
without them. 
(c) The technique of treatment is never overshadowed by a con- 
sciousness of the miserable heredity or the loathsome environment 
recorded in many of these stories. The diagnosis seems to begin 
with the child as he is found. To the boy as he now is, likable and 
therefore not hopeless, a unique personality and therefore not the 
mirror-image of his sordid background, to the boy as a going con- 
cern, is applied the best that can be focused upon his reform. 
I am impressed by the fact that the main principles of the treat- 
ment here used are much the same in every case. As in medicine 
we give in all infectious fevers very much the same diet and hy- 
gienic management although the fevers may be due each to a 
different germ, — so in delinquency. No matter what the boy or 
girl has done, the treatment starts in with the same essentials: 
sympathetic understanding (so far as this can be had), the discovery 
and cultivation of the child’s strong points, the creative power of 
affection (when it can be developed), the dynamic of an ambition 
to “be somebody” and accomplish something, the influence of a 
Big Brother or a Big Sister, the discipline of regular school work, 
manual work, scouting, and pet animals. These powerful medicines 
are given to all. In their application to different individuals there 
is unending variety, but the main courses are always the same. 
Indeed I sometimes suspect that success would have been achieved 
almost as well without previous history as a guide — if treatment 
had begun with the child as he was found on his arrival at the 
home. But I put this heretical suspicion away. 
(d) A memorable patience, a readiness to be content with small 
gains are shown in the campaigns waged at the Home against evil. 
“His pilfering had almost completely ceased, he lied less frequently 
and less readily.” No sudden conversions, no moral revulsions are 
expected. Yet there is no compromise with evil; it is never given 
up as incurable. 
X. Literary Values in Case-Recording 
Few social workers have any idea that they are called upon to 
contribute to literature when they write up a case record for teach- 
ing purposes. They try to set down the essential facts and to give 
an accurate description of what happened. But they have been led 
to believe that dullness in a record is entirely pardonable, because 
color, sensationalism, and personal impressions are above all things 
to be eschewed. INTRODUCTION 
XXIII 
Now it seems to me obvious that one cannot give a true picture 
of any episode in the life of a family or an individual and yet make 
it dull to read. The facts are never dull. It is only our catalogue 
that makes them so. If truth to life is our intention, we must, I 
think, realize that we are doomed to attempt literature. No 
modest confession of incompetence excuses us. The comedy, the 
tragedy, the poignant unexpectedness which emerge in almost 
every day of case work, cannot truthfully be left out of a record. 
But if we try to put them in, we are trying to write good litera- 
ture and can escape neither its privileges nor its trials. 
One of the outstanding merits of this book is the skill and vivid- 
ness of its pictures. When the neighbors lend “a hand and a purse,” 
how swiftly we are introduced to them! How much is told us in a 
few words about “Doughnuts,” the squinting poet on whom even 
“God picked when he gave me cock eyes”; Doughnuts who was 
always “ready to write a poem in lamentation or celebration of any 
event of interest to him.” Yet he was no sentimentalist, for a few 
lines later he remarks philosophically that: “If a man” (his step- 
father) “does n’t treat you good, you’ve got to steal his doughnuts 
to get even with him.” 
Who can read unenlightened the mother’s lament over her 
“Faginized” boy: “Maybe he lost respect for us” (his parents) 
“because he became an American and we are still greenhorns. He 
did n’t want to speak our language to us and we could n’t speak 
English, — so he was ashamed of us and made friends with bad 
boys .... If only we were n’t so stupid and could understand 
the boys, maybe they would n’t be so bad .... I even went to 
night school but the language would n’t come to me.” 
Any new discovery in logic marks an epoch. Perhaps we see one 
in the final sentence of Fagin’s pupil when, after describing “The 
Lobster” and his vile house, he is asked: 
How long have you known the Lobster? 
Since I was a kid. 
Why is he called “The Lobster”? 
*Cause he’s as mean as a lobster. 
What a nugget of wisdom and eloquence! 
A woman who says “She don’t want nothing” comes trailing 
about the Home. A small convalescent inmate reports her faint- 
hearted and transparent pretense that she wanted to see the Home 
itself. But, “believe me,” says he, “she wanted to see the Home 
just like I want another boil on my neck.” INTRODUCTION 
The field of an overnight slum battle is drawn by a master hand: 
“Dilapidated bits of what had once been household effects were 
strewn in the streets, mute evidence of the brawls in which they 
had been used as missiles of the contending party.” 
Such passages are worth while in themselves. They are valuable 
not merely as instruction but as literature. 
Richard C. Cabot. 
XXIV CHILDREN ASTRAY CHAPTER I 
TRUANTS 
Case A, Paul I " Poetical Doughnuts ” 
Case B, Thomas E “Peewee” 
Case C, Irving I “ The Prize-Fighter ” CASE A 
PAUL I , “POETICAL DOUGHNUTS” 
Entered September 10, 1918. Age 13 years 
The Problem 
1. Delinquency 
(а) Petty pilfering from parents and neighbors. 
(б) Arrested a number of times for vagrancy. 
(c) Bunking out for days at a time. 
(d) Particularly fond of stealing into all-night lunch-rooms, 
taking food, and appropriating some corner or counter, or 
space under the counter, as a bed. 
(e) Selling newspapers without a license. 
(/) Incorrigible, untruthful, and unmanageable. 
2. The School 
(а) Continued and obstinate truancy. 
(б) Several years’ retardation. 
(c) Defiant and impertinent to teachers. 
(d) Showed good mental capacity, but refused to make any 
application of it. 
(e) Frequently came with bruises about body and black-and- 
blue marks, of which he complained to the teacher, saying 
that his stepfather had beaten him up at the request of his 
mother. 
(/) Would spend time scribbling “poetry” or vulgar parodies. 
(g) Used obscene language when reproved. 
(h) Teachers compelled to send him home frequently, to 
change filthy attire. 
3. Home 
(a) Very troublesome and unmanageable. 
(b) Petty thefts. 
(c) Quarrelsome; disobedient and defiant of any authority. 
(d) Would stay away for days; then would return hungry and 
dirty, and meet reprimands with obscene language and 
violent temper. 
(e) Would strike at stepfather when the latter beat him. 
(/) Enjoyed telling lies for the purpose of making trouble be- 
tween his mother and stepfather. 
5 6 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
4. Society 
(а) Member of a street gang, which committed petty thefts 
and annoyed the neighborhood. 
(б) Bunking out nights, he would, if no lunch-room were 
available, creep through a cellar or climb through a win- 
dow, into some store or home, and pass the night surrepti- 
tiously, purloining what he could lay hands upon. 
(c) Defied authority and mocked and taunted elders. 
(d) Fond of hanging around the burlesque theatres. Knew 
all the show-girls of the Burlesque Stock Company, and 
would run their errands and assist them in their dressing- 
rooms. 
(e) Juvenile Court Record: 
12-18-17. Charged with pilfering and truancy. Minor 
without proper care. Placed in care of Dr. H for 
two months. 
3- Minor without proper care. Parents notified 
and did not appear. Has stepfather, who, the boy says, 
beats him cruelly and will not let him stay at home. 
Boy has been sleeping outdoors and has no home. Sent 
to Reformatory, pending further hearing on April 5. 
4- Postponed until April 27, for investigation by 
Benevolent Society. 
The Analysis 
1. Physical 
(a) Pale, sickly-looking. Several pounds underweight. 
(b) Small in figure, appearing several years younger than his 
age. 
(c) Enlarged and diseased tonsils and adenoids. Badly carious 
teeth. Ugly, warty growths on hands. Scabies and pedic- 
ulosis. 
(d) Enuresis. 
(e) General underdevelopment. Cross-eyed. Round-shoul- 
dered. Extraordinarily large feet. 
2. Mental 
(a) Examination — Psychiatrist’s Report : 
Intelligence: Mental capacity fifteen years. I. C. 1.05. 
Social classification, precocious mentality. 
Character: Apparently good basis, though from very 
neurotic parents. Rather poor organization; vag- 
rancy, larceny, etc. TRUANTS 
7 
Health: Rather poor. Physical development inferior. 
Impression: Case for institutional management. Sym- 
pathetic interest and intelligent guidance essential. 
(b) Personality Traits: 
Unclean about person and very careless in dress. Abhors 
clean clothes, and feels uncomfortable and unhappy in 
them. 
Constantly grumbling and expressing dissatisfaction 
with orders and conditions about him. 
Kind-hearted, generous to a degree, and very fond of 
animals. 
Pleasure-loving; ever ready to forego the alluring book 
on adventure or dare-deviltry that he was devouring in 
some quiet corner, for the theatre, moving-picture per- 
formance, or picnic. 
Irritable and obstinate when crossed. Amenable to 
reason, and inclined to give loyalty and affection to one he 
favors. 
No taste or desire for nourishing and wholesome food; 
partial to sweetmeats. 
3. Social 
(a) Heredity: 
Father: an illiterate, industrious day-laborer, who worked 
as a mason and bricklayer to support his family, consisting 
of his wife and two boys. 
He was temperate, honest, and maintained his family 
as best he could during his lifetime. His abilities were 
extremely ordinary and he made little headway in the 
world. He died of heart trouble in the hospital, leaving 
his wife and children utterly unprovided for, and no known 
relatives. Two weeks after his death, his widow applied 
to the Charities for assistance. At that time, in 1908, the 
oldest boy was three years old, and the other not quite 
one year. 
Mother: a stupid, ignorant woman, of careless habits 
and slovenly ways. She was a member of a large family of 
several brothers and sisters, all mediocre and hard-working 
people, but none able to be of any financial assistance to 
her in her widowhood. 
She was supported by the Charities for four years after 
her husband’s death, and then married again. Her second 
husband was a baker, whose earnings were meagre, and 
not sufficient to support the family. 8 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
At first, the mother attempted to make peace between 
her husband and the two boys in their altercations; but 
finding that she aroused the animosity of the man thereby, 
she abandoned the boys to their fate, and concentrated 
her interest upon the babies which followed in rapid 
succession. 
Having neither spirit nor independence, she was a weak- 
ling and easily fell under the dominion of her husband, 
who completely mastered her. 
Siblings: Younger brother, a bright, active little chap, 
became associated with a street gang of unsavory reputa- 
tion, and at the age of ten was brought into the Juvenile 
Court at two distinct periods. 
The second time, he was sent to a Reformatory till a 
further hearing could be had. He stayed at the institu- 
tion for seven weeks, and at the end of that time was 
sent home. 
Coming before the Court again, he was adjudged a 
minor without proper care, and turned over to the custody 
of the Benevolent Society, which found, and placed him 
in, a good private home. He was under the influences of 
a good environment and healthful atmosphere, and ad- 
justed himself so well to his surroundings, that no further 
delinquencies have been reported. 
Two younger half-sisters and a baby brother are ap- 
parently all normal, but too young for proper determina- 
tion. 
(6) Developmental: 
He had been a normal baby at birth and had been 
breast-fed. His mother stated that she had been com- 
pelled to wean him at seven months, owing to another 
pregnancy, which had terminated unfortunately, and that 
he had not taken kindly to the food she had given him. 
He was frequently ill with stomach trouble, and had, dur- 
ing his second summer, a severe attack of summer com- 
plaint, from which she thought it a miracle that be escaped 
alive. 
The poverty of his parents prevented his having the 
change of climate and food the doctor ordered at the time, 
and he remained weak and sickly. After his father’s 
death, his mother gave him what care she could on the 
contributions allotted to her by the Charities. She was 
not physically strong, and the home was nearly always TRUANTS 
9 
very dirty and the children greatly neglected. Fre- 
quently the neighbors lent both a hand and a purse, to 
give the children some very necessary attention. 
The advent of his stepfather was a sore trial to the boy, 
who found neither kindness nor affection in the man, and 
in return became surly, disobedient, and rebellious. The 
stepfather, resenting this attitude, and begrudging the boy 
the care and attention his wife at times gave her son, ob- 
jected to his presence in the house, with disastrous results 
to all three. 
The man had quarreled with his employer, and to spite 
the latter, had set up a sort of private bakery in his own 
home of two rooms, where the family of five members 
lived, dined, and slept, and specialized on doughnuts 
which he made at home. 
These doughnuts he would daily send the boy to dis- 
tribute to his customers, and the youngster would then 
see his opportunity to get even with the man by wrong- 
fully disposing of them. He would either sell them, at 
less than the price set on them, to other customers than 
those designated, or he would give them, gratis, to such 
of his friends or cronies of the hour as appeared at the 
propitious moment. 
Naturally there was a storm at home when the results 
of his salesmanship were discovered. The man would beat 
the boy unmercifully, and he retaliated by striking back, 
or finding a pleasant revenge in reprehensible actions 
which he deemed would hurt and annoy his stepfather. 
The man would then order the boy from the house, and 
when the mother intervened, there would invariably follow 
scenes of violence and abuse, compelling the neighbors to 
interfere to prevent a “murder,” as several of them 
claimed. The stepfather manifested no interest in the 
boy’s wanderings, and on one occasion, during a very 
severe snow-storm, refused to permit the boy to receive 
shelter in the house, because he had stolen sixty-five cents 
from him the day before. 
The angry protests of the neighbors gave the man no 
concern, and the S. P. C. C. was appealed to. The step- 
father insisted that he was justified in his inhumanity, 
and demanded that the Charities relieve him of the boy’s 
presence in his house, which was beginning to cause do- 
mestic difficulties between himself and his wife. 10 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
Taking to the streets while his disposition was being 
considered, the boy fell in with a gang, developed vagrancy 
and thievery, and was soon appearing in the Juvenile 
Court on various charges. He was at that time examined 
by mental specialists, who reported that he was normal 
mentally, and suggested that he be placed in a different 
environment. 
He was admitted to a child-caring institution, which, 
at the end of three months, reported him as difficult and 
troublesome, and asked to be relieved of his care. Accord- 
ingly, he was transferred to a private home, and after a 
few weeks’ trial, his boarding mother reported that he 
was impertinent, disobedient, and untruthful, and con- 
stantly quarreled with the other children in the house; 
and she requested that he be taken off her hands. 
He was now sent to another private home, from which 
he ran away several times, the last time disappearing for 
two weeks and not returning till his clothes were almost 
in shreds and he himself really suffering from starvation. 
He said that he had been selling newspapers and living in 
the streets. 
Brought into the Juvenile Court, he was sent to the 
Reformatory, pending a further hearing on the case; and 
subsequently the Children’s Bureau, anxious to give him 
the last chance, sent him to the Orphanage. 
(c) Habits and Interests: 
Fond of smoking. Would pick up the butts of cigars 
or cigarettes wherever he could, and puff at them till they 
burned his fingers. 
Liked to find a quiet nook or corner, and spend hours 
reading or composing “poetry.” 
Showed great interest and enthusiasm for his “garden,” 
which he watched and watered during the spring and sum- 
mer months with painstaking care and devoted attention. 
Liked manual-training shops, but would willingly slap 
the hour to read a book or write a “poem.” 
Very desirous of being entrusted with the care of the 
animals in the Home, to all of which he was devoted. 
Frequently, he would save from his meals a choice tidbit 
for the dog. 
Ready to write a “poem” in lamentation or celebration 
of any event of interest to him. 
Indifferent to boys’ sports and games. TRUANTS 
11 
Very anxious to participate in plays, entertainments, 
and dramatic recitals. Expressed great desire to write 
plays for the children for various holidays. 
No sex-tendencies. Not the least interest manifested 
in girls. 
(d) Home Conditions: 
The report of the Charities states that, when the family 
was first rendered assistance, two weeks after the death of 
the father, the boy, little more than a baby, was wretch- 
edly dirty and neglected. The mother claimed to be 
physically unable to look after her children, and the poor 
neighbors did all they could to assist her in her plight. 
Inured to poverty and neglect almost in his infancy, 
the boy developed a callousness to dirt which, later in his 
boyhood, made him an uncouth, slovenly object, to be 
despised and ridiculed, even by those of his classmates 
who neither in person nor attire were by any means im- 
maculate. Finding the school no more congenial or satis- 
fying to him than his home, he became a truant, and soon 
was at odds with his teachers. 
His mother, in her ignorance, either could not or would 
not cooperate with the school, and the boy found what 
solace and happiness he could in the harum-scarum fife 
of the streets. 
The coming of a stepfather into the family served only 
to make his lot in life harder, as the man had no liking for 
him from the first, and spared no efforts to arouse the 
antagonism and hatred of the lad, who refused obedience 
and respect to his commands. In his childish way, he 
attempted to “get even” for wrongs and punishments he 
deemed unjustly given him, and went from bad to worse 
in his endeavors to show his resentment. 
From the street-gang, he learned and absorbed enough 
of the manners and vices of the young desperadoes to 
cause concern and apprehension to the community, which 
gradually began to suffer the results of his unhappy 
training. 
When admitted to the child-caring institution, he was 
too troublesome to be given the general attention devoted 
to the average child; and in the private homes to which 
he was subsequently sent, his earlier associations were too 
strong for the gentle home-influences, which touched him 
not at all. 12 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
(e) Mental Interests: 
Reading dime novels and writing “poetry.” 
The Treatment 
He himself, when informed by the Children’s Bureau that in all 
probability his future destination was the Reformatory, appealed 
earnestly to be sent to the Orphanage, giving as an all-powerful 
reason the fact that he had met some of the Home’s boys at school, 
and had liked them so well that he had given them doughnuts. 
Such a recommendation being indisputable, he was informed that 
his plea was valid and he would be permitted a short trial at the 
Home. So it happened that when, in the convoy of the probation 
officer, who had improved his time as an escort by sundry exhorta- 
tions and threats of more or less effect, he drew near the institution 
and was spied by a favorite or two, he was given a triumphal entry. 
“Hey, fellars, there’s Doughnuts coming,” rang throughout the 
yard; and as he passed into the vestibule, there were welcoming 
faces grinning encouragement, and frantically waving hands 
beckoning to him, at the glass door which divided the hall from the 
yard. The sullen, dark frown on his face lifted and he grinned 
back in cordial greeting. Two of the bolder spirits separated them- 
selves from the throng of faces and, careless of consequences, 
formed themselves into an additional escort; and thus accom- 
panied he was marched into the office. 
“This is Doughnuts, he’s all right,” announced one bold spirit, 
with a defiant look at the probation officer. 
“He’s a regular guy, sure,” affirmed the other bold one, stoutly 
maintaining a malignant stare at the surprised official, who glanced 
from one to the other in undisguised amazement. 
“Well, what have you to say for yourself?” the boy was asked. 
Taken aback, he stammered something unintelligible, turned 
red, and hung his head in embarrassment and discomfort. 
“Sh—b—h! Don’t be afraid,” encouraged one mentor in a 
stage whisper. 
“Aw, shucks, why don’t you open your mouth?” the second 
guide tried to inspire him. 
“He is a bad egg,” began the officer sternly; but was inter- 
rupted by the sudden tilt of the bent head, and two eyes, albeit 
cross-eyed ones, flashing angrily. “1 ain’t done nuthin’ to you, 
mister,” he cried, “so why do you pick on me?” 
“He ain’t no bad egg,” insisted one defender. 
“Course not,” affirmed the other. TRUANTS 
13 
Both champions were excused from further attendance; and 
after the officer had fulfilled his errand, the boy, after many 
peculiar twifcchings and movings from one chair to another, finally 
put a very dirty little hand into a very filthy pocket, and, after a 
moment’s pause, produced an extremely dirty small newspaper 
package. With black, dirt-caked tiny fingers, he undid the bit of 
string, and carefully brought to view an unnaturally large and 
greasy doughnut. “For you,” he said; and added triumphantly, 
“ I stole it from my stepfather ’fore that man came for me. It’s 
fresh!” 
“If you had made it yourself, it would have been a fine present, 
but it’s something that doesn’t belong to you.” 
“Aw, that’s all right, that’s all right,” he interrupted eagerly, 
“takings havings, don’tcher know? I gave lots o’ them dough- 
nuts away; that’s why they all call me ‘Doughnuts,’” he ex- 
plained glibly. 
The next half hour was invested in arguments tending to prove 
that “takings were not havings,” and he listened, with apparent 
attention, and then observed quietly, “But if a man don’t treat 
you good, you got to steal his doughnuts to show ’im.” 
“Perhaps stealing his doughnuts is what made the man treat 
you badly,” was intimated. 
“Nope,” he shook his head decidedly, “he started treating me 
bad first, and then I took them doughnuts to sell them and make 
money.” He stopped and thought for a few moments and then 
burst out hotly, “Holy chee, it’s awful! They don’t let you sell 
papers and make money, and they don’t let you take money—■ 
how is a fellar going to get three cents a day for them books, 
I’d like to know?” 
“What books?” 
“See — these here.” He put his begrimed hand into the torn 
bosom of his ragged, soiled blouse, and produced two paper-backed, 
finger-marked, and much-used volumes, showing considerable wear 
and tear, which he regarded with tenderness. 
“What are their names?” 
“You want to know?” With anxious eagerness, he held them 
spread out, the better to show their titles. 
“One is ‘Dick Carter’s Legacy.’ — O my! — it’s wonderful—• 
best book you ever read; and the other is, ‘Daisy, the Gentleman 
Burglar’s Daughter’ — Chee, it’s great! I only got it this after- 
noon, so I’m not finished yet, but I’m all finished with Dick 
Carter — want to hear about him?” And he rushed breathlessly 
on to tell of the Dare-devil Dick in quest of a mysterious legacy. 14 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
He had to pause a moment to catch his breath. 
“How long does it take you to read one of those books?” 
“Three a day,” he answered. “You can’t get ’em in the library,” 
he confided, “ ’cause I tried. So I loan them from Tom Simons for 
a penny a book — an’ it costs me three cents nearly every day.” 
Part of the reason for his confiscation of the doughnuts was 
clear. “Sometimes, when I haven’t got three cents, I give six 
doughnuts for loaning the books,” he added; and then, as if anx- 
ious to prove that at times he was swayed by unselfish motives 
and considerations, he put in, “And I always gave the boys from 
the Home doughnuts for nothing.” 
“Why?” 
He looked up, astonished at the question, evidently uncertain 
of his ground. “Well — well,” he fumbled, “guess because 
they’re orphans — and you got to treat orphans good.” 
Suddenly he reverted to his troubles. “Them teachers are 
mean,” he complained; “when they’d catch me reading my books, 
they’d grab them away and throw them in the trash basket.” 
“Possibly the reading kept you from doing your school-work?” 
he was asked. 
“Sure,” he assented cheerfully, without hesitation; “sometimes 
they keep me from going to school altogether.” He patted his 
books affectionately. “They don’t learn me nothing at school, 
anyway,” he remarked indifferently. 
“What do you want to be when you grow up?” 
Quickly came the surprising answer, without a moment’s hesi- 
tation. “A poet,” he said. 
“A poet?” 
“Sure thing,” he reiterated nonchalantly. “Sure, I’m going to 
write poetry in the morning, and books like that in the afternoon, 
and in the night I’m going to go to all the theatres, and dance 
buck and wing.” 
“ Have you tried to write poetry yet? ” 
“Sure thing, — Wait! Here it is!” 
From some impossible and unsuspected receptacle in his blouse, 
he produced a bedraggled and frayed bit of note-paper, and read 
with great pride, and much gusto: 
“My old man, he told me to ring the bell 
On stores, and houses, and cellars, so well 
I took them doughnuts right out to sell, 
Made money and told him to go to hell.” 
“Ain’t it good?” he questioned, eagerly, awaiting the expected 
approval. TRUANTS 
15 
It was very tactfully suggested to the “poet” that there was 
room for improvement, and meanwhile he was put in the charge 
of his supervisor, with the suggestion that he clean up thoroughly, 
and then show himself as he really was. 
Among the children, he was known by the name of “Dough- 
nuts” exclusively, and he responded to no other. While his phys- 
ical welfare was receiving attention, Mark Twain was surrepti- 
tiously substituted for the creator of the “Gentleman Burglar’s 
Daughter ”; and it was observed with great satisfaction that “Tom 
Sawyer” was crowding out the admirable “Dick Carter” and his 
“Legacy” also. 
Books of poetry were presented to the would-be poet, and he was 
advised to make note of the fact that the poets were all well- 
educated men. “Holy chee!” he ejaculated, “school takes up 
so much time, when did they get time to write poems?” 
It was with difficulty that he was finally persuaded to go to 
school, which he hated and despised with all his soul. It seemed 
that his conceit, of which he had a goodly measure, suffered 
greatly in the classroom, and he was determined to avoid the humil- 
iation of being considered stupid. Frequently he played truant 
from the special class in which he had been put, and as he would 
return from school at the proper time, his attendance was always 
taken for granted till a communication to the contrary from the 
teacher reached the office. On one occasion, he presumptively 
went to and from school for two weeks in succession; but, in real- 
ity, he waited till all the children had gone to their rooms, and then 
absconded and reverted to his old haunts and his former activities, 
till the teacher became suspicious of his confederate. This young 
worthy, an “orphan,” had benefited from the former donations of 
doughnuts, and his gratitude prevailing over his discretion, he had 
agreed to present daily a doctored note, purporting to come from 
the office, and giving the sad information that, owing to illness, 
his friend could not attend school. When the illness turned into 
“neumony,” the teacher’s interest in the spelling was the direct 
cause of the fraud being discovered. 
For the next few months, the future “poet” was accompanied to 
and from school by a trusty monitor, till the task of regular at- 
tendance became a habit. Then it was that the school had a sal- 
utary effect upon him, and he became interested in his work. 
Exceedingly bright, he made rapid progress, and was promoted 
without difficulty. 
In the Home, his first six months’ sojourn was attended with 
many trials and tribulations to his supervisors, whose patience 16 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
was often sorely tried with rather clever lies and impertinence. 
His favorite method of receiving permission for several hours’ 
absence was to learn of some prospective errand and beg to be 
entrusted with it; then off he would fly to the burlesque theatre, 
where the girls made much of him, and the scene-shifters permitted 
him to assist them at their work. He would return, contrite and 
apologetic, and promise never to repeat his misdemeanor; or he 
would find some excuse more or less reasonable. 
Brought to the office on one occasion, when he had so com- 
pletely forgotten his errand that he had stayed till the evening 
performance was over, he stated that he had been quite anxious to 
tear himself away, but there was such a wonderful dancer, who 
had bewitched him to such an extent that he had felt inspired to 
write a poem to her. 
“But she didn’t appreciate it at all,” he complained bitterly, 
“because she and the other girls laughed at it.” 
“Then why not write poems and plays for the girls here, who 
would appreciate your efforts?” 
He heartily agreed to the plan proposed, and in his ardent 
efforts as “poet” and “impresario” for an entertainment in cele- 
bration of a coming holiday, he was kept so busy and contented, 
that there was a general feeling of relief regarding him. The suc- 
cess of the performance, which he regarded as his exclusive feat, 
encouraged his ambition, and he readily agreed to a proposition 
that he become a regular contributor to the Home publication. 
Also, he took very kindly to the suggestion that he study the 
printing trade and learn to set up his own compositions. So elated 
was he with the first stick of type he set up, that he composed the 
following “poem” to commemorate the auspicious occasion: 
Setting Type 
[To the tune of “Bubbles”] 
I’m forever setting type, 
Little type in the stick: 
They crowd together, 
In any weather, 
And all I do 
Is set and gather 
Copy always piling, 
Copy with a kick. 
I’m forever setting type, 
Little type in the stick. 
As he became a proficient printer and a dignified contributor, 
his escapades became fewer, and he became more reliable on the TRUANTS 
17 
errands with which he was entrusted without solicitation. Through 
his ambition to be a poet and a writer, which seemed to grow with 
him, he was encouraged to read good books and to endeavor to 
attain a high standard at school. Always popular with the chil- 
dren, he was greatly liked by them through the efforts he exerted 
to coach them in the plays he would write for their Entertainment 
Committee. 
He became interested in Scouting; but the Scout oaths and 
laws, and particularly the long hikes, did not appeal to him, and 
finally he decided that he should become, first, a famous poet, and 
then a Scout. 
As some ideas of cleanliness were slowly inculcated in his mind, 
and, with the disappearance of the warts and other excrescences, 
appeared better manners and more tidy habits, he became aware 
that his eyes were crossed most unpoetically. As the physicians 
advised against an operation, his defective vision continued a sore 
trial to him, and while wearing the lenses that had been ordered 
for his benefit, he nourished grief and resentment at the injustice 
that had been done him. 
“No wonder that baker made me so much trouble,” he remarked 
in his bitterness, one day at the office, “when even God picked on 
me and gave me cock eyes.” 
“The eyes will improve as you grow older, and if you’ll take 
good care of your mind, you ’ll have no complaints to make in the 
future,” he was told. 
“Yes, but you can see the eyes and you don’t see the mind,” he 
mourned. 
Several days later, on his return from school, he flew into the 
office, with flushed face and both cross eyes beaming with unmis- 
takable happiness. “Guess what!” he panted. 
“Well —what?” 
“No wonder I got cross eyes,” he cried exultingly; “you know 
you got to have something crazy if you’re going to be a poet.” 
Quickly he dived down into his bag, brought forth a book, in 
eager excitement, and triumphantly opened it at a marked place, 
his index finger pointing stoutly to the title of the poem, “The 
Eve of Waterloo.” “See that?” he breathed in a whisper. 
“Yes — well?” he was encouraged. 
“You know Lord Byron wrote that — I think it’s the greatest 
poem ever written by anybody — don’t you think so?” And 
without waiting for an answer, he rushed on, “And the teacher 
said Lord Byron had a — had — O jiminy, I forgot what she 
called it — but I guess it was a — cross feet — something like 18 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
that. Now, you see why I got cross eyes? I’m going to be a poet 
all right.” 
Cross eyes as an inspiration to poetry were distinctly original; 
but he was encouraged in his happy ideas, and the effect was dis- 
tinctly visible in his progress at school and in the Home. No more 
were his eyes his badge of affliction, but rather a promise of honors 
to come. As he passed into the Eighth Grade with honorable 
mention, he applied himself to the study of poetry in earnest dur- 
ing his leisure time, and committed to memory several cantos of 
“Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage.” Lord Byron remained his favorite 
poet, and he was busily engaged upon a poem that was intended 
to “shine” beside “The Eve of Waterloo,” when a “garden” was 
allotted to him. 
As a war measure, every available patch of productive soil in 
the back yard had been utilized for planting various vegetables, 
and the older boys and the “problems” were assigned each a por- 
tion of the land, and prizes offered for the best garden. 
Lord Byron’s future rival took to the soil with a spontaneity 
and vim that boded ill for his poetic aspirations. Everything was 
forsaken for his garden; he watched, worked, watered, and tended 
his patch of ground till it was really a model bit of horticulture. 
Deserted were his former beloved quiet nooks where he could read 
and dream in peace, and forsaken completely were his poets and 
their admired poetry. He read anything and everything pertaining 
to plant-life, and his first cucumber he carried around for days, 
preciously guarded in the recesses of his blouse. 
The summer spent outdoors was a most invigorating tonic to 
him, and he improved physically to a remarkable extent. He had 
never been quite so happy, active, and contented. He even lost 
the resentment with which he had always greeted his mother upon 
her occasional visits, and though he still cared little about making 
any visits home, he displayed a more friendly attitude to his 
family, his stepfather included. 
“It’s wonderful to see how things grow,” he would frequently 
comment, as he would march proudly into the office, bearing in 
triumph a large beet or an enormous carrot. 
The winner of the first prize, he came in with arms filled with 
his treasured produce, a radiant smile upon his happy face, and 
announced, “I guess I want to be a farmer.” 
“How about your poetry?” 
He grinned sheepishly. “Guess I want to be a farmer first 
— and a poet second.” TRUANTS 
19 
As his ambitions did not change during the coming year, ar- 
rangements were made for his entrance to a Farm School, when 
he should be ready to leave the Home. 
From Record in the Benevolent Society: 
“In September, 1921, Paul I was discharged from the Or- 
phanage and placed in a private home. The boy seems to have 
improved considerably. He is more manly and dresses more 
neatly. He has applied to the N Farm School at , appli- 
cation to be acted upon in February, 1922.” 
February 23, 1922. 
Dear Friend: 
Knowing your deep interest in the boys and girls, your former 
wards in the Orphanage, I am sure you will be pleased to hear that 
Paul I ’s application to the N Farm School has been favor- 
ably passed upon and the boy will enter the School within the next 
few weeks. 
He is a nice, manly little chap and we are quite proud of him. 
Yours very sincerely, 
L. 0. G., 
Executive Secretary of Children’s Bureau. 
The Result CASE B 
THOMAS E , “PEEWEE” 
Entered January 31,1917. Age 11 years 
The Problem 
1. Delinquency 
(a) Stealing. 
(b) Habitual and incorrigible truant. 
(c) Wandering about the streets during the day and bunking 
out at night. 
(d) Employing vile and obscene language; defiant to au- 
thority. 
(e) Member of a street gang which broke into and robbed 
homes. 
2. The School 
(а) Several years’ retardation caused by truancy. 
(б) Unmanageable, troublesome, and impertinent to principal 
and teachers. 
(c) Constant stealing from the principal’s office, the teacher’s 
desk, and the classroom, indiscriminately. 
(d) Assisted by younger brother, would pick locks in closet 
doors, and break windows, in attempts to burglarize the 
school, despite the watchfulness and care of the janitor. 
(e) Influenced other boys to truancy and delinquency. 
3. Home 
(а) Pilfering and lying. 
(б) Ridiculing and mocking parents’ efforts to gain obedience. 
(c) Answering reproofs with temper tantrums, vile language, 
and broken window-panes. 
(d) Fond of insulting his father with obscene jeers and taunts; 
and when the man’s fury was aroused, would “beat it” for 
several days, having in his possession some ill-gotten 
booty from the home, to be disposed of to the best ad- 
vantage. 
4. Society 
(а) A “terror” in the neighborhood. 
(б) Recognizing no authority, and determined to have his 
own way. 
(c) Would “get even” with a complainant, by becoming 
friendly with the latter’s children, and encouraging them 
to misdeeds. 
20 TRUANTS 
21 
ed) Juvenile Court Record: 
4-17-16. Feloniously entering Public School No. 40, and 
stealing one lot of pencils and copy-books. Dismissed. 
4-26-16. Burglariously breaking and entering the office 
of the M Lumber Co., and stealing twenty cigars 
valued at one dollar, one pocket-knife valued at 50 
cents, six pencils valued at 30 cents, one rule valued 
at 15 cents, and four keys valued at one dollar. Dis- 
missed. 
4-28-16. Charged with being an habitual and incorrigible 
truant. Committed to a disciplinary school. 
1-23-17. Feloniously entering A ’s laundry office, with 
intent to steal. Got into the laundry chute. Postponed 
to January 30. Referred to Miss R , who will get 
him admitted to some institution. 1-30-17. Committed 
to the Children’s Bureau. 
1. Physical 
(a) Considerably undersized and underweight. In appearance 
but a tiny, frail youngster of six years. 
(b) Very wiry. Extremely dark, with straight, black hair, 
sharp, bright, jet-black eyes, restlessly darting quick 
glances now here, now there, seemingly always on the 
alert. 
(c) Dark skin, tanned almost to swarthiness, and small, thin 
features. He looked like nothing so much as a tiny, fugitive 
gypsy- 
(d) Shoulders so round, that the back appeared curved, but 
the action and motion of the small body was as quick and 
graceful as the movements of a bird. 
(e) Festering sores over body, cuts and bruises upon face and 
hands. Nails broken. 
(/) Neglected teeth; diseased and swollen tonsils. 
2. Mental 
(a) Examination — Psychiatrist’s Report: 
Intelligence: Mental capacity normal. I. C. 1.00. 
Character: Hereditary basis neurotic. 
Boy’s behavior indicates a neurotic temperament; 
that is, a poor basis for character. Character or- 
ganization appears poor (larceny, truancy, etc.). 
Health: Poorly nourished. Very poor physical develop- 
The Analysis 22 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
ment. In urgent need of medical care; abnormal 
symptoms of heart and blood, requiring attention. 
Impression: Apparently a child needing physical up- 
building and long institutional or probational training. 
(b) Personality Traits: 
Very untidy in personal habits. Violently protesting 
against the use of water or a comb. Unless watched, 
would hide fresh clean clothes, preferring soiled and ragged 
garments. 
Irritable, stubborn, and obstinate. 
Very poor eater; just nibbling at food, and having no 
special preference. 
Slept very poorly. Occasional nightmares and enuresis. 
3. Social 
(a) Heredity: 
Father: illiterate, quarrelsome, and very cruel to his 
wife and family; was a plasterer by trade, who worked at 
odd intervals, at small wages. 
He was very small in size, barely more than four feet 
tall, abnormal in intellect, and extremely high-tempered. 
He had been diagnosed as a low-grade moron. Lazy 
and shiftless, he never made a livelihood for his family, 
and had been assisted by the Charities since 1912, when 
he first applied for relief. At that time, he claimed that 
accident and sickness were responsible for his poverty, 
and that “a little help” would put him on his feet. 
As his family increased, he took to drinking and asso- 
ciating with women of ill-repute, squandering his insuffi- 
cient wages upon his dissipations. He always found some 
trite excuse to make for his delinquencies, claiming, among 
other things, that his wife did not know how to take care 
of the children, and as a result they were not trained well, 
and were disobedient and disrespectful to him. He main- 
tained that, as the “breadwinner” of the family, it was 
not just to expect him to take a hand in caring or bother- 
ing about the children, after he came home exhausted 
from his day’s work. 
Frequently, when drunk, he would beat his wife; and 
not till his sons were old and strong enough either to out- 
wit or to return his blows, did his brutality to them in 
any way abate. 
His only known relatives were two brothers, brick- 
layers by trade, who, like him, were undersized and illiter- TRUANTS 
23 
ate, but, unlike him, were devoted to their families, giving 
their weekly wages regularly to their respective wives. 
Their children were normal and healthy, though several 
were rather small in stature, and they presented no 
problem either at home or in school. 
Mother: almost a dwarf in appearance, called forth the 
curiosity and attention given to a freak, by reason of her 
abnormal size. 
She had been a factory-girl at the time she met and 
married her husband, and her small savings vanished 
shortly after her marriage. She accepted her husband’s 
cruel treatment of her with vindictive hatred and re- 
proach, enlisting the sympathy and aid of her children as 
they grew older. 
She had no known relatives, having been brought up 
as an orphaned and friendless child in some institution. 
Her mentality was of very low type, she having been pro- 
nounced a mental defective by Dr. T , who examined 
her in March, 1918. In addition to poverty and unhappi- 
ness, she was suffering with heart trouble. 
Siblings: Oldest sister, was a normal, fairly attractive 
girl, of ordinary size, whose schooling had been so hap- 
hazard and cursory, that at the age of thirteen she was in 
the Fourth Grade, and made no further progress. 
In 1918, a Wasserman test was given to all the members 
of the family, and hers proved to be positive. She was 
treated at the hospital, being at that time fourteen years 
of age. When her condition had improved, it was deemed 
advisable not to discharge her to her home, where, she 
complained, her father and mother quarreled continually, 
making life unbearable for her. 
She was sent to a working girls’ club, and it was re- 
ported six months later that she had made remarkable 
progress during her stay at the institution. A trade was 
being taught her, with the object of making her self- 
supporting, when her mother came to her with pleas of 
lonesomeness and unhappiness, and the girl left the Club 
to return to her parents’ home. 
In November, 1921, the family opened a small store, 
of which the girl was practically in charge. The man was 
too lazy to take care of the business, the woman too ill 
and ignorant; and upon the girl fell the difficult task of 
placating the customers whom her father insulted, and 
making the small profit that should support the family. 24 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
The last report was that she was bearing the burden 
bravely and faithfully. 
Younger brother, two years younger than he, was his 
confidant, partner, and coadjutor in all his delinquencies 
and misdeeds. 
The following is the boy’s Juvenile Court Record: 
4-17-16. Feloniously entering Public School No. 40, and 
stealing lot of pencils and copy-books. Dismissed. 
4-26-16. Burglariously breaking into and entering the 
office of the M Lumber Co., and stealing various 
articles. Referred to Miss R and the Children’s 
Bureau. Miss C will supervise the family, and 
asks continuance of the case. Postponed to May 8; 
then to May 16; then to November 16, when it was 
dismissed at the request of Miss C , who has the 
boy under supervision. 
I- Feloniously entering A ’s laundry, with 
intent to steal. Got into the laundry chute. Post- 
poned. Then referred to Miss R , who will get him 
admitted to some institution. 
II- Charged with being incorrigible and beyond 
the control of his parents. Committed to the Children’s 
Bureau. 
8-17-20. Minor without proper care. Committed to the 
Reformatory. 
In 1914, at the age of six, the boy was in the hospital 
suffering with a heart condition. The diagnosis was 
mitral stenosis. 
Upon his discharge, he started his career of misdeeds, 
under the influence and encouragement of his brother. 
At his first appearance in the Juvenile Court, his teacher 
stated that he was bright, did good work, and that his 
attendance at school was regular. 
Later, it was reported that he was exceedingly trouble- 
some at school, and upon being reproved for his dis- 
orderly conduct, had set fire to an automobile belonging 
to one of the school officials; also threatening to burn that 
officer’s home. 
He stayed out late at nights, would not attend school, 
and smoked cigarettes. 
In 1918, the Wasserman test given him was found to be 
negative. He was then admitted to the Orphanage, but a 
medical examination proving him to have, in addition to TRUANTS 
25 
his heart condition, an active case of tuberculosis, he was 
sent at once to the Consumptives’ Sanitorium. Six weeks 
later, the hospital was compelled to send him home be- 
cause he was exceedingly troublesome and unmanageable. 
Upon his sister’s complaint that he was “running wild,” 
stealing things from home and selling them, and also that 
he had broken almost every window-pane and door-lock 
in the house, he was brought to the Children’s Bureau for 
a consultation as to his disposal. In view of his lung and 
heart condition, the medical authorities agreed that some 
good home in the country was essential for him. 
He was sent to three country boarding homes in suc- 
cession, each time the boarding home mother reporting 
that he was mischievous, destructive, and unmanageable, 
and refusing to try her patience further with him. At his 
last home, he had been enrolled in a Parochial School, 
which reported that, at the time he attended his classes, 
he was bright and quick to learn. However, when he was 
absent from the school for three weeks, he sold papers, 
slept in cellars and backyards, and the boarding home 
mother refused to harbor him further. 
Returned to his own home, he was constantly quarrel- 
ing with his father, whom he disliked and distrusted. The 
father had him arrested once for breaking the store win- 
dow; and at another time, was running after the boy to 
punish him, when the youngster, in his anxiety to escape, 
ran right into a passing machine. 
The accident was not a serious one, but the inadvisabil- 
ity of permitting the boy to remain at his home was ap- 
parent. He was sent to a specially good boarding home 
in the suburbs, and after several weeks’ stay was returned, 
because of his inability to conform to a regular, whole- 
some routine of life, and of his petty pilfering from the 
members of the family. 
Unfortunately, his physical condition was still such that 
the physicians considered him a possible source of tuber- 
cular infection to the children in the Orphanage. 
Finally, early in 1920, he was summoned to the Juvenile 
Court on the charge of theft, and appeared there, un- 
kempt, sullen, and disagreeable. Dr. W who ex- 
amined him, reported: 
“Heart condition, mitral insufficiency, a serious and 
incurable matter, and one that will handicap the boy very 26 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
much throughout his life. If his spiritual welfare re- 
quires it, there is no reason why he should be debarred 
from an institution and its normal routine. He should not 
enter into any form of athletic contests which would re- 
quire supreme physical effort, but should not be denied 
the ordinary forms of exercise.” 
He was admitted to a child-caring institution, where he 
remained till August 14, when he was discharged because 
of his outrageous behavior. He had run away from the 
institution a number of times. Several days later, he was 
committed to the Reformatory. 
In November, 1921, the Superintendent of the Reforma- 
tory reported that, when the boy entered his institution, 
he was a physical, mental, and moral problem, and that, 
even though he had shown a remarkable improvement, he 
was not yet ready to leave the institution. 
Younger Sister, too young for definite characterization. 
Apparently normal. 
Youngest brother, a baby, normal in appearance. 
(6) Developmental: 
As far as could be learned from the mother, he was a 
healthy, normal baby, and had the usual children’s 
diseases, mildly. His sister remembered that his first 
objectionable act was to turn upon his father, who had 
been beating him; and, grasping the nearest weapon, 
which happened to be the poker, he struck his parent with 
it. He could have been scarcely five years old at the 
time. 
After that occurrence, he was more at home on the 
streets than in the house, eating and sleeping but seldom 
with his family, and losing no opportunity to make the 
acquaintance of worldly-wise youngsters, whose influence 
was to affect him most seriously. 
He took readily enough to the reckless deviltry of his 
older associates; and with no counteracting influence in 
his environment, he proceeded naturally upon his daring 
career of juvenile delinquencies. 
Not till the doors of the disciplinary school first closed 
upon him, had he been in an atmosphere where peace and 
order were in the routine of the day. In this semi-reform 
institution he, after several months’ stay, progressed fairly 
well; unfortunately, he was discharged to his home too 
soon, and almost immediately suffered a relapse from the TRUANTS 
27 
acquired normality, which was not strong enough to with- 
stand the sudden change. 
(c) Habits and Interests: 
Careless and thoughtless about personal effects. When 
missing some article, would immediately appropriate an- 
other boy’s, without consideration or question. 
Fond of cigarette smoking. An adept in rolling his own 
tobacco and making his own cigarette. 
Craved affection, and was devoted to his mother in a 
curious way: he was rather interested in her welfare, and 
afraid that his father would ill-treat her, but he was 
ashamed of her appearance, and would suggest to her to 
send him a postal card and let him know when she was 
coming, and he would meet her somewhere. “Don’t come 
here,” he admonished her; “you are so little, the boys 
make fun of you, and laugh.” 
A scrapper. Ready to adjust his differences at a mo- 
ment’s notice, and with an antagonist several times his 
size. 
Always prepared to fib and lie to get himself out of a 
predicament, but, when confronted with evidence of his 
wrongdoing, broke down and confessed quickly. 
Interested only in the “movies” and the burlesque 
theatres. 
(d) Home Conditions: 
The home had always been in a very poor neighborhood, 
where squalor and wretchedness abounded. The tenants 
of the dingy, ramshackle dwellings, who were the friends 
and neighbors of the family, were, in the main, themselves 
unhappy and unfortunate, and unable to render any as 
sistance, either material or moral, to the wife, with whom 
they sympathized. They also condemned the man for his 
treatment of her, and, further, prophesied that the boy 
“would end his days on the gallows.” 
There were none among them who at any time extended 
a helping or a friendly hand to the youngster; on the con- 
trary, it was rather a favorite sport either to affront him 
with curses, or to throw water at him, if he ventured 
within their reach. 
The home had always been untidy and poverty-stricken. 
At times, the quarreling between the man and his wife 
became so bitter, that neighbors were forced to interfere. 28 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
As soon as the boy was old enough to shift for himself, he 
flouted parental authority, and followed his own will as 
he pleased. He had been given scanty care in his earliest 
childhood, and when he deserted the sordid and unhappy 
home for the streets, he but passed from one erratic and 
unwholesome existence to another. 
(e) Mental Interests: 
None. 
The Treatment 
He had hardly graced the Home with two hours of his presence, 
when it was discovered that he had purloined various articles be- 
longing to the children and his supervisor, and had also disap- 
peared. The next day, he was discovered at a down-town corner, 
selling newspapers, dirty, bedraggled, and soaked with the rain 
which had been steadily falling for two days in succession. 
In the office, to which he had been brought with no little diffi- 
culty, he screwed up his tiny, elfin features into a defiant pout, 
and impertinently declared, “I ain’t gonna stay in this here joint 
— an' yuh can’t make me.” 
Questioned as to what he had done with the missing articles, he 
at first denied all knowledge of them, and tearfully asserted, “I 
ain’t gonna be blamed for nuthin’.” But when taken severely to 
task, and given clearly to understand that he had been seen by 
several boys going off with a large bundle over the fence in the 
yard, he coolly observed, “P’haps it was ’nuther boy.” 
Upon being assured that it was he and no other boy who had 
been seen making off, he finally admitted: “Yep, I got a greenie 
for ’em from the rag-man.” 
Objecting and protesting, he was compelled to lead the way to 
the shop where he had disposed of his stolen property; and there, 
after an interview with the proprietor, and the exchange of a 
“greenie” (one dollar) for goods of much greater value, he was 
given the large bundle he had appropriated, and informed that 
he must distribute the articles to their rightful owners. 
It was indeed a stupefied youngster who walked out into the 
street, his brows knit in evident amazement, and almost staggering 
under the weight of the bundle that undoubtedly must have tasked 
his tiny body. In the car, he made several attempts to steal away 
whenever he imagined himself for a moment unobserved, but each 
time his attempt was seen and frustrated. He stared about him 
furtively, his active brain seeking and devising ways and means of 
escape. TRUANTS 
29 
It was both an annoying and an unusual experience to him to 
be compelled to return property he had stolen; and to add insult 
to injury, he had been informed that it was expected of him to 
return the “greenie” he had wrongly secured, at some time in the 
near future. 
“But I ain’t got ’im no more,” he remonstrated. 
“Then you’ll have to save all the money you get from your 
visitors, till you return that dollar,” he was told. 
He looked up perplexed, his lips quivering in his dismay and 
discomfiture. 
“But my fadder ain’t no good, and never’s got money, — and 
my mudder, — she ain’t got no money — ever,” he objected. 
“ Then by good conduct you will earn a quarter every two weeks, 
given by a gentleman to children who get no spending money from 
their folks.” 
“Aw, chee, there’s lots of quarters in a greenie,” he responded 
reproachfully. 
“How many do you think?” he was asked. 
He wrinkled his tiny nose a moment in thought. “Eight — 
ten,” he finally ventured. 
Then, evidently having no faith in his own computation of fig- 
ures, he put in hastily, “That there school I gone to — that’s no 
good. She don’ learn you nuthin’.” 
“ Too bad! Suppose we try another school then? ” 
He looked his disgust and unhappiness. “Gotta go to school?” 
he queried anxiously. 
“Sure thing! You want to know how many quarters there are 
in a dollar, don’t you?” 
He nodded his head perfunctorily. But his bright eyes clearly 
betrayed the thoughts flooding the quick, active brain, and promis- 
ing him escape from this tyranny. 
He passively permitted himself to be immersed a long time in 
an unaccustomed and hated bath, and without the demurring of 
the previous day to a similar proceeding, tacitly consented to an 
entire change of his apparel. 
Then he came into the office, his body cleansed, but his mind in 
the mud and mire of his floundering temptations and desires. 
“Well, going to start right this time?” he was asked. 
“Aw,” he growled, “I don’ like it here. Lemme go to me 
home.” 
“Think you’d like the Reformatory better than this place?” 
He seemed startled, and his keen, black eyes had a frightened 
look in them. 30 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
“No-o, si — no!” he ejaculated quickly. 
“Any of your friends in the Reformatory, now?” he was asked, 
quietly. 
He nodded his head. 
“Who?” 
Hastily, he rattled off a list of names. “Sim Bones, he run 'way 
from that joint,” he confided, “and he don’ like it, and he sez to 
keep ’way from that joint. Guess it’s lots worse ’n this here joint.” 
“Do you think you can be on the square, if you get a square 
deal here? ” was put to him. 
“Yuh wanna give me a square deal?” he queried suspiciously. 
“Yes, if you deserve it,” he was assured. 
“What for do yuh wanna give me a square deal? ” he questioned, 
with brows knit in amazement. 
“Because we want to give you a chance to quit being bad.” 
“Why?” he persisted, as if apparently not fully satisfied with 
the explanation. 
“Because there are enough bad boys in the world without you, 
and we want you to have a chance to be good. Think you can 
stop stealing things if you try real hard?” 
He glanced up, a quizzical look on his face. The question was 
repeated. 
“Guess it’s gonna be awful hard,” he admitted, very slowly and 
thoughtfully. 
“Want to try it here, or do you think it would be best to send 
you to the Reformatory now, and stop bothering with you?” 
He was at once galvanized to a decision. “Aw, sure yuh try 
me out here,” he said quickly. 
Though his fear of the Reformatory offered a strong hold upon 
him, it was not a powerful enough deterrent to keep him from the 
commission of offenses that were almost habits with him. He stole 
whatever his fingers touched, and had to be reprimanded con- 
stantly, and deprived of some privilege he desired, mainly a trip 
to the “movies” or to a theatre, as punishment for his misdeed. 
Frequently, he would wander off, to be gone for several days, 
till found in some market-place, asleep under a stall or a pushcart, 
very much the worse for lack of food and rest. He would be kept 
in bed for a day or two, till his active temperament asserted itself 
and made his enforced quietude a most unbearable punishment. 
He would then plead to be permitted to dress and go downstairs, 
promising in the most extravagant terms the most virtuous be- 
havior for the future. 
He started to attend school, unwillingly enough; but, by slow TRUANTS 
31 
degrees, the talks given him in the office of the Home and at the 
principal’s office in school, had the beneficial effect of arousing 
shame in him. It was pointed out to him that children of kinder- 
garten age were further advanced than he, and that, if only he 
so desired, he could easily be at the head of his class. The reward 
of a membership in the Junior Scout Troop, which had appealed 
to him, was promised him, if he received honorable mention at the 
end of the school term. It was at this time that he paid his debt 
of four quarters, not without reluctance. 
Though his extremely small stature prevented him from being 
given an active part in the manual-training classes, he still was 
assigned to various small duties in the printing and carpentry 
classes, in the hope that his time would be too fully occupied for 
his mind to concoct mischief. At first he cared little for the boys’ 
games and exercises; but envying the “muscle” some of the boys 
boastfully displayed on proper and improper occasions, he at- 
tempted to join in their sports, hoping to become strong and sturdy 
like some of the youngsters he admired. Another powerful in- 
centive was that, upon his mother’s first visit, the boys, with char- 
acteristic childish thoughtlessness and tactlessness, had mocked 
the poor deformed creature’s strange appearance, and christened 
her “Mrs. Pee wee.” 
In blind fury he had leaped upon the boy nearest him, and by 
fighting, scratching and clawing that one, endeavored to give vent 
to his anger against the many. His pugilistic advances were in- 
stantly resented by his opponent, and the two were finally brought 
into the office to settle the dispute, very much the worse for bleed- 
ing noses and sundry bruises on face and hands. 
“Nobody ain’t goin’ to call my old lady no Peewee,” he as- 
serted, defiantly, his small figure erect and drawn to the full height 
of his few inches. 
“I’m bigger ’n she, and she’s married and has children,” ob- 
served the other, giving voice to the surprise that still evidently 
held him in its grip. 
When peace had been restored by apologies given and received 
on both sides, the adversaries left, on a friendly footing, and soon 
were amicably engaged in a game of marbles. 
The altercation was almost completely forgotten, when, several 
days later, the youngster presented himself at the office, with both 
a perturbed and confused expression on his face. 
“Well, son?” he was encouraged. 
“I — I don’t want to be a peewee,” he burst out, nervously 
fingering his blouse; “I — I — want to grow big like them boys.” 32 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
Unsuspectingly, he presented a vulnerable part in his adaman- 
tine composition. The opportunity was eagerly grasped for a talk 
with him upon the relative advantages offered to him, in compari- 
son to the lack of them in his parents’ lives. He was informed 
of the benefits he would derive from a normal, wholesome life, 
physically and mentally, and he appeared more impressed than 
at any other interview. 
After this, he more readily ate his meals and no longer objected 
to the extra nourishment prescribed for him. He also no longer 
protested that it was too early to go to bed, and made both pitiful 
and desperate efforts to acquire the much envied “muscle.” His 
conduct also improved, and his schooling was attended with fewer 
mishaps and difficulties. Now and then he suffered a relapse; 
but, on the whole, it became evident that time and patience would 
have beneficial effects upon him. 
At the end of a year, while he had mentally made some strides 
in a good direction, his body remained as frail and puny as when 
he had entered the institution. Medical services were enlisted, and 
it was discovered that he was suffering from a heart affection, and 
also curvature of the spine. He was given a Wassermann test, 
which was found to be triple positive. Condition not infectious. 
He was sent to a hospital for treatment, where he remained six 
months. It was during this period, when the children of the Home 
vied with one another in bringing dainties to him, and showing 
their interest in him, that a silent chord was awakened in his 
hardened little breast, and he gave expression to the feelings that 
were evidently surging within him. 
“Why do you come with the kids to see me all the time, and 
bring all that grub?” he asked his monitor, who several times dur- 
ing the week visited him with some of the boys he had liked in his 
dormitory. 
“Because you’re sick,” explained the older boy. 
“That ain’t enough,” insisted the youngster, “’cause nobody 
likes a sick ’un.” 
The monitor was nonplussed, but in his own way attempted to 
explain the Brotherhood of Man in general, and the young Brother- 
hood of which they two were a part, in particular. Evidently he 
had succeeded in making himself understood clearly, for later, the 
young patient, in opening his heart in confidence, stated, “Wait, 
you see when I get home, I’m going to be like them.” Then clos- 
ing his lips firmly, and clenching his tiny fist, he continued, “When 
I was sick awfully once, them — them that used to be my pals, 
let me lay there and croak — they sure did, I remember.” TRUANTS 
33 
“Try to forget about them, and think of the pals you have now,” 
was suggested to him. 
He nodded his head eagerly. “All right,” he agreed cheerfully. 
Then abruptly changing the subject to one oppressing him, 
“Please ask them doctors to make me grow big like the boys.” 
And bursting into tears without warning, “I don’t want to be a 
peewee — honest, I don’t,” he cried passionately. 
Consolation was administered in the hope held out to him that 
a wholesome, happy boyhood might assist him in attaining more 
inches than his undersized parents. 
“You’ll let me be a Scout and hike and play ball, and maybe 
that will stretch me out,” he pleadingly asked. 
Assured that he should be permitted to join the Scout Troop 
whenever he was prepared to do so, he appeared pleased, and then 
spoke seriously about his younger brother, whose various delin- 
quencies had brought sorrow and trouble to the unhappy family, 
as his mother had informed him on the occasion of a visit to his 
bedside. The poor woman had poured out a list of her sorrows and 
complaints to the boy, who, surprising as it seemed, actually took 
her woes to heart, and had been thinking seriously and unselfishly. 
“I’m awfully sorry for my old lady,” he remarked with a gravity 
foreign to him; “she never grew big because my old man always 
killed her.” Then, suddenly turning to another thought in his 
mind, he begged: “Please — please, take my brother in your 
Home — maybe he won’t be in no more trouble.” 
In time he was discharged from the hospital, and returned to 
the Orphanage, where he attempted to conform to the rules of law 
and order, without any flagrant violation of good conduct. Were 
it not for his pitiful desire to “grow big,” which did not materialize, 
he would have been quite happy and contented. Though he put 
on flesh, he gained but few inches, and it seemed that Nature 
doomed him to become what he most dreaded, — “a little man,” 
— even though he made pathetic attempts to elongate his tiny 
body. 
He attended school regularly and made favorable progress in 
his studies. There was no longer any problem to solve regarding 
him, as he was well on the road to normality. 
The Result 
Report from the Benevolent Society: 
“In June, 1920, Thomas E left the Orphanage. It was 
believed that the parents had influenced the boy to return home. 34 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
In September, 1920, the mother complained of the boy’s behavior. 
She said he associated with undesirable boys and stayed out late 
at night. He was readmitted to the institution, and is doing well. 
“ His younger brother, Harry E , has been committed to the 
M Reformatory.” 
Report from the Superintendent of the Orphanage reads as follows: 
January 18,1922. 
“The boy is no longer a problem. He is working out very 
favorably, and is a case for vocational guidance.” 
Report from the M Reformatory, in reference to his brother, 
Harry E : 
February 27, 1922. 
“Replying to your request concerning information of Harry 
E , I regret to inform you that the boy is not doing as well as 
we would like to have him.” CASE C 
IRVING I , “THE PRIZE-FIGHTER” 
Entered August 12,1915. Age 11 years 
The Problem 
1. Delinquency 
(а) Persistent truant. 
(б) Preferred the streets to his home. Frequently disap- 
peared for weeks at a time. 
(c) Incorrigible liar, and exceedingly troublesome. 
(d) Frequented hang-outs at burlesque shows, prize-fights, 
and corner saloons. 
(e) Smoking, gambling, and shooting craps. 
2. The School 
(а) Absolutely refused to attend school. 
(б) A recent arrival in America, he spoke a broken English 
and yet knew enough of the language to defy the school 
attendance officer, and tell his teacher where to go, when 
taken to task for his truancy. 
(c) Had not progressed beyond the First Grade, in which he 
had at first been placed, and had no thought or intention 
of going any higher. . 
(d) Objected to any restraint, and offered fight when con- 
fronted by authority. 
3. Home 
(а) Unmanageable and very disobedient to grandmother and 
mother. 
(б) Petty pilfering. 
(c) Used obscene language. 
(d) Teased and tormented younger brothers. 
4. Society 
(a) Disrespectful to elders. 
(b) Troublesome in the neighborhood. 
(c) Organized prize-fights among the boys in the streets, with 
himself as referee. 
(d) Determined to have his own way, and quarreled and 
fought with any one who differed from him. Expressed 
no fear of the police, whom he mocked and frequently 
outwitted. 
35 36 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
The Analysis 
1. Physical 
(a) Very thin, scrawny, and extremely dark-skinned. 
(b) Undernourished; of starved appearance. 
(c) Gleaming black eyes, sallow face, and ordinary features. 
(id) Poor teeth, diseased tonsils and adenoids, scabies, and 
pediculosis. 
(e) Occasional enuresis. 
(/) Hands, scarred and cut, and feet badly bruised, black- 
ened, and marred by deep gashes. He had run the streets 
for months in bare feet, and the skin of his soles had the 
color and toughness of leather. 
(g) Tattoo of a prize-fighter in action on one arm. 
2. Mental 
(a) Examination: 
He was diagnosed as follows: “Intelligence below the 
average. Poor physique; unusual pubertal development. 
It is imperative that his home environment be changed 
at once. Good case for institutional guidance.” 
(b) Personality Traits: 
Accustomed to dirt, seeming practically to absorb it 
into the pores of his body, so encrusted with soil did he 
constantly appear. 
Special antipathy to shoes and stockings, preferring to 
walk in his bare feet, no matter what the weather. 
Voracious eater, not caring what food he consumed, or 
how he consumed it. 
Filthy in his personal habits. No undue sexual tend- 
encies. 
Wayward, reckless, and always ready and willing to 
fight. Could not comprehend any other way of solving 
an issue, than by the result of a fist fight. 
3. Social 
(a) Heredity: 
Father: died of tuberculosis, in Russia, in 1912, two 
years before his large family, composed of his mother, 
wife, and nine sons, came to America. 
He had been a laborer, earning small wages, and his 
family had suffered privation and want. From the in- 
formation available, it appears that he had been of ordinary 
intellect, and had worked hard to secure a livelihood for his 
family. There had been no known irregularities in his life. TRUANTS 
37 
His death left his family without means of sustenance, 
and through the assistance of the woman’s three brothers 
and five sisters in America, emigration to another land 
was made possible. 
Mother: sickly and incompetent, was constantly com- 
plaining about her wretched lot in life, and had no initia- 
tive, and no ambition to attempt to improve matters for 
herself. During her frequent illnesses, her aged mother-in- 
law took care of the large household, which was supported 
partly by the relatives, and largely by the Benevolent 
Society. 
The woman was a very poor housekeeper and manager, 
and unable to exercise any control over her children. Her 
sisters had made several ineffectual attempts to start a 
dressmaking shop for her, but always she claimed that the 
asthma from which she was suffering interfered with her 
work, and each time the venture was unsuccessful. 
Subsequently, it was reported that her health had im- 
proved, and that she was spending much time in the 
theatres and entertaining men callers, one of whom was 
married. 
Her brothers and sisters were people of very ordinary 
intellect, small shop-keepers, and workers in factories. 
They were honest and industrious. Her mother-in-law 
was lapsing into senility, her advanced age precluding the 
possibility of determining what her intellectual basis had 
been. 
The nine sons had been born within a period of fourteen 
years. There had also been several miscarriages in the 
woman’s fifteen years of married life. 
Siblings: Eldest brother, had been difficult to manage, 
and in a fit of temper had left his home, and for nearly a 
year his whereabouts were unknown. 
He finally wrote that he was living in a distant part of 
the country, was working at his trade of shoe-making, 
and had married. From different sources, the information 
was given that he was rather feeble in intellect. 
Second brother, was a cobbler. He refused to give any 
of his earnings to his mother, married at an early age, and 
then had domestic difficulties, which finally brought him 
into court. 
He suddenly left his home in 1919, and his present 
whereabouts are unknown. 38 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
Third and fourth brothers, twins, were incipient cases of 
tuberculosis, one living with an aunt in the country, and 
the other at the Consumptives’ Sanitarium. 
Fifth brother, had been reported for truancy and incor- 
rigibility, only a few months after his arrival in America. 
He had been in an ungraded class. 
Later, he disappeared from home on a number of oc- 
casions, and remained away for months at a time. It was 
subsequently learned that, during his absences, he had 
worked as a pugilist. He had been examined and found 
to have a mentality of eight or nine years. Diagnosis: 
Moron. Has a court record. 
Seventh brother (younger), was admitted to the Orphan- 
age at the same time as he. It had been reported that he 
was frequently the companion of his brother in the latter’s 
misdeeds, and that he also remained on the streets at all 
hours. 
He was more amenable to discipline than his brother; 
and while he was a problematic case, which needed careful 
handling for some time, he gradually adapted himself to 
the wholesome environment of the institution, and devel- 
oped normally and satisfactorily. In November, 1920, 
he was examined by Dr. D , the psychiatrist, who re- 
ported that the boy was normal mentally, intelligence 
coefficient being 1.00. Character, appears satisfactory; 
health, normal. 
He remained in the institution, a case for vocational 
guidance. 
Eighth and ninth brothers, seven and five years old re- 
spectively, were later placed in the Orphanage, since their 
mother was both physically and financially unable to care 
for them. She claimed that the children were on the 
streets too much, and stayed out until late at night. She 
also stated that the older of the two was very troublesome 
at home and disrespectful to her. The teacher of the boy, 
however, said that the youngster was not at all trouble- 
some at school, and that his work was quite satisfactory. 
He and the youngest brother presented no problems at 
the institution. They appeared normal in every respect. 
(6) Developmental: 
There was no way of learning pertinent facts regarding 
his infancy and early childhood, since the mother de- 
clared that the children had come to her so rapidly that TRUANTS 
39 
she had had no time to waste in noticing what manner of 
babies they were, or how they grew. 
“Babies are born and grow up; so why should one 
bother about them? ” she queried in surprise. 
He was born, and his early years of childhood were 
passed, in a small Russian village, where, it was under- 
stood, he ran the streets at will, bare-footed and in tatters 
most of the time, till his arrival in America. 
In this country, he endeavored to duplicate the life he 
had been accustomed to; and it appears that the cheap 
places of amusement attracted him, from the very outset 
of his career. 
(c) Habits and Interests: 
Would pick up cigar and cigarette butts in the streets, 
and puff at them at every conceivable opportunity. 
Anxious to barter some of his collections of marbles, 
which, in his own vernacular, he had “swiped from dem 
kids in de street,” for pictures, in print or lithograph, of 
prize-fighters, past or present. 
Very proud of his acquaintance with the habitues of 
the burlesque shows and the prize-fight rings, he tried 
to ape their manners and speech, and sought every means 
of eluding vigilance to be with his favorites, and show his 
intense admiration for them. He considered it a great 
privilege to deliver messages for them, run upon their 
errands, and blacken their boots. 
Was fond of assuming various fighting poses before a 
mirror, nude but for a towel draped about his loins. 
Found recreation and pleasure in arranging fighting 
matches among the children, and was always intent upon 
finding a secluded nook or corner, where the match he had 
arranged could proceed without interruption or detection. 
Fond of reciting, in his broken English, the rules and 
regulations governing prize-fights, and extremely inter- 
ested in any and every prize-fight that came to his at- 
tention. 
(d) Home conditions: 
In the Russian village, poverty and neglect had been 
his initial portion in life. In the modern American city, 
he faced the same two unhappy conditions in his home 
environment, with the addition of slovenly, congested 
quarters, into which the large family was crowded. 40 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
The ignorant, inefficient mother, who nagged and 
scolded, while she left the management of the wretched 
household to the aged grandmother, had not the intelli- 
gence to cope with the situation which engulfed her older 
sons, and disastrously influenced the younger. 
She only added to the repellent and unwholesome at- 
mosphere, which influenced the boy to seek, according to 
his own light, a more attractive and congenial environ- 
ment, and avoid home contact. 
(e) Mental Interests: 
Figuring how soon he could be in physical trim to be- 
come a prize-fighter, how many matches would be ar- 
ranged for him annually, and how much money he should 
realize from the fights. Over the last he puzzled, adding, 
subtracting, multiplying — incorrectly, abstractly, but 
with unfailing enthusiasm. 
Collecting, and carefully counting and arranging, ac- 
cording to his own classification of their superiority and 
excellence, pictures of all sorts and conditions of prize- 
fighters. 
The Treatment 
His initial performance in the Home was to size up the situa- 
tion, with a quick, eager glance from his sharp eyes, and without 
warning, jump up from his chair, dart out to the yard, and with 
the agility and quickness of a squirrel, leap over the fence, his 
thin, brown bare legs waving a moment in the air — and he was 
gone. 
It was nearly a week before the Probation Officer picked him 
up, in the doorway of a gambling den, and forcibly brought him to 
the institution. 
“I gonna run from dis place,” was the cool information he gave 
in answer to the question why he had run away previously. 
Asked for a reason, he shrugged his shoulders carelessly, and 
stared about him blankly. It was evident that he was contem- 
plating another leap for freedom; but the precautions the Officer 
had taken to plant him in a rather tight corner, from which escape 
was not so easy, presented definite complications to him. 
He looked from the window to the door, and back again, neither 
comprehending nor desiring to comprehend what was said to him. 
He protestingly followed the supervisor, who took him upstairs to 
a much-needed bath; and later, when he had been washed and 
cleaned, he again absconded as soon as he was left to himself for a TRUANTS 
41 
moment, leaving as mementoes of his contempt for order and con- 
vention, one shoe in the hall, another in the yard, and two stock- 
ings flying derisively from the top of the fence. 
That night his mother came to the institution, and reported 
that he had paid his home a visit; had, in spite of her objections 
and pleas, stripped a younger brother of his torn garments, in 
which he arrayed himself, after he had taken the new clothes off 
his back; and then had gone away, his former apparel under his 
arm. 
The next day, at supper-time, he suddenly appeared, to every- 
one’s surprise, befouled with dirt and perspiration, his clothes, if 
so they may be termed by courtesy, in tattered rags, and accepted 
the talk and admonitions given him, with meekness, almost with 
gratitude. There was something so strange about his humble and 
contrite attitude, that his actions seemed unreal under the circum- 
stances. The clue to the situation was given when, next morning, 
the night watchman reported that very early, while it was still 
dark, he had noticed a barefooted boy coming quietly downstairs, 
who, before he had a chance to speak to him, had run out into the 
yard, climbed over the fence, and disappeared. 
Investigation proved that the boy had taken both his new and 
tattered garments with him. A visit to his mother’s home, later, 
disclosed the fact that he had appeared quite early for breakfast, 
clad in his, or, rather, his younger brother’s rags, and after having 
gulped down some food, left, with a bundle of clothes under his 
arm. He had refused to make any explanations or answer any 
questions. 
Search for him was withheld on the chance of his turning up as 
he had the night before. Sure enough, he came humbly, quietly, 
into the office, just before the evening meal, and seated himself in 
a chair, hanging his head, as if ashamed, and undoubtedly expect- 
ing a repetition of his former experience. 
“Why have you come back?” was the greeting given him. 
He had evidently prepared himself for some such question. Not 
at all taken aback, he replied, “I gonna be good boy now; I wanna 
eat somet’ings.” 
He was rather a picturesque ragamuffin, sitting there in his 
tattered jumper, which was hanging in shreds, and his torn trous- 
ers, held together seemingly by a miracle. Black streaks of per- 
spiration ran down his grimy, dark face, and his thin legs, caked 
with mud and dirt, were swinging impatiently to and fro. 
After he had been bathed, combed, and attired in clean apparel, 
he was given a substantial supper, which he ravenously consumed; 42 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
then he was brought into the office by his supervisor, who was to 
keep him under close watch. 
“How do you like your new suit?” he was asked. 
He appraisingly cast his glance up and down his slim figure as 
far as he could, and nodded his head in satisfaction. “I likes dem 
new t’ings,” he remarked in approval. 
“Did n’t you like the other new suits you received?” 
“For why you ask?” he questioned in quick suspicion. 
“Because you came back wearing something else.” 
“Well — well,” he began, “they was too goot for me, so I sells 
dem t’ings and make money.” 
“What did you do with the money?” 
“Gabe it to my muvver — she’s a very poor womans,” he 
answered quite seriously, and lifted his face with well-assumed 
sympathy for his mother. 
Given to understand in unmistakable language that he was de- 
ceiving nobody but himself, he finally broke down and admitted 
that he had sold both suits “to a frien’ o’ mine,” and had spent the 
money for “shows.” Asked to confirm the truth of the suspicion 
that he had come home to repeat his two former experiences, he at 
first refused to answer, and then confessed that such had been his 
intention. After which he pleaded not to be “’rested,” as he was 
not going to do “sech t’ings no more.” 
A long interview followed, during which he was informed that he 
would be forgiven, on condition that he divulge the name and ad- 
dress of the helpful “friend” who had relieved him of his clothes, 
and that he promise good behavior for the future. To the second 
demand, he acceded with a celerity which left every doubt as to 
its performance, and to the first, he consented only after repeated 
requests and threats. 
The next day the suits were returned by a disgruntled pawn- 
shop proprietor, while the boy, under strict supervision, was rest- 
lessly and unhappily watching other boys of his age engaged in 
wholesome play, and compelled to endure the discomfort of stock- 
ings and shoes on his hitherto untrammeled feet. He manifested 
no interest or desire to join the boys, and stood idly and listlessly 
in the manual-training classes, either unable or unwilling to con- 
centrate his mind upon the life around him. 
Another talk followed in a few days, when he avowed his am- 
bition of being the coming prize-fighter of the age, “like Mister 
Fitzie.” 
Asked who “Mr. Fitzie” was, he could hardly control an ex- 
pression of mingled scorn and disgust; and putting a hand into TRUANTS 
43 
one of his pockets, drew forth a small package wrapped in news- 
paper, and tied with black cotton, which he very carefully opened, 
and taking therefrom what seemed a piece of cardboard, turned it 
proudly face-forward, and triumphantly announced, “T’is is 
Mister Fitzie!” 
“Mister Fitzie77 proved to be Robert Fitzsimmons, erstwhile 
champion of the sporting world; though why he should be given 
the preference, in view of the later and more contemporary lumi- 
naries, seemed rather obscure, till the boy, anxious to do homage 
to his idol, enthusiastically described the “soda-pexus b’ow.” It 
appeared that to him the boxer who brought the solar-plexus 
blow into fame was not only a mighty man to be emulated, but also 
the discoverer of America. 
Finding that his ambition was not condemned, he displayed the 
other stars, of more or less magnitude in pugilism, whom he had 
in his collection, and then confidingly and enviously gave an ac- 
count of the achievements of his fifth brother, who, though only 
three years older than he, had already engaged in prize-fights. 
“An7 he makes bunches of money,77 added the boy with marked 
jealousy. 
Here he was very carefully informed that his hopes and aspira- 
tions were regarded with sympathy, and that he should receive 
every encouragement to attain his desires, if he were willing to 
follow a course tending to give strength and power to his body, and 
develop his mind at the same time, for the subsequent advantage 
of the body. 
He listened eagerly when told of the possibilities for him in the 
gymnasium, the hikes, and scouting, but turned a wry face at the 
tactful mention of school. “Them,77 he tapped his precious collec- 
tion, “ain’t had schoolin', I know, ’cause Punchin7 Mike, he told 
me so.77 
Looking through his collection, several were found who had en- 
joyed the advantages of a good education, and this fact was dilated 
upon, till he was almost ready to believe that they had attained 
their success because of the education he affected to despise. 
Finally, after many arguments pro and con, he agreed to abide by 
the rules laid before him, in return for the home and the athletic 
instruction he was to receive. 
Despite his acceptance of the proposition made to him, he had 
several outbreaks within the next few weeks, when he eluded his 
supervisor’s guardianship, and ran off to his haunts. He was 
always found by his monitor in the localities where the frequenters 
of the ring gathered, and he would be brought back, shame-faced 
and repentant. 44 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
With the opening of school, his truancies increased, and for a 
long time he was a regular visitant at the office door, awaiting his 
turn for a reckoning. He tried the patience of his teacher sorely 
with his carelessness and stupidity; and for some time it was only 
constant watchfulness that ensured his regular school attendance. 
The attempt made to interest him, meanwhile, in the baseball 
played by the boys at the Home, was quite successful, and he also 
became interested in their Scout work and sports. He joined them 
on their hikes; and as he began to breathe the pure, fresh air of 
country roads, and participated in the wholesome activities ar- 
ranged by the Scout-master for the boys, the contaminating influ- 
ences of his city slum life gradually diminished. He repeatedly 
boasted of his brother’s pugilistic prowess, but his truancy de- 
creased, and in time, prize-fights were arranged, and his favorites 
fought, even without his knowledge. 
He adjusted himself to the school curriculum very slowly and 
with great difficulty. His mental capacity was limited, and his 
vanity rebelled that younger and smaller children grasped lessons 
that seemed beyond his ken. It was only much later, when he 
had learned application and perseverance, that he was enabled 
to make any progress in his school-work. 
It was rather remarkable to note with what alacrity and enthu- 
siasm he learned the art of printing, and what a wholesome and 
excellent influence the printer’s case exerted upon his slow facul- 
ties. His stick of type became, in time, the neatest and most ac- 
curate; and it was also he who set up more columns of ‘‘The 
Monitor,” the Home publication, than the other printers. 
The greatest possible recreation and enjoyment to him was a 
treat to a baseball game, or to some pugilistic encounter, and this 
ardently desired pleasure was accorded him for a favorable school- 
report and honorable mention for conduct in the Home. His 
younger brother, also an inmate of the Home, whose intellect was 
brighter and his ways less erratic, was of material assistance in 
helping him keep to the straight path which meant his salvation. 
An affection and a certain devotion developed between the broth- 
ers, who might have been strangers as far as love and harmony 
existing between them previously were concerned. Each now had 
an excellent influence upon the other. The younger felt it incum- 
bent upon him to advise and restrain his older brother in his 
tempestuous actions; and the latter, noting the normal progress 
and development of the other, was tempted to emulate his achieve- 
ments, with very beneficial results to both. Finally, a realization 
of his seniority being brought home to him, he felt that it was im- TRUANTS 
45 
portant for him to become an example for his younger brother to 
follow; and while some of his efforts were amusing as well as pa- 
thetic, in the main, he was himself greatly benefited by the grav- 
ity he assumed. 
As time passed, his demeanor improved, and he became moder- 
ately successful in his school studies, with which he grappled 
manfully. He also was elected to be a Scout by popular acclaim, 
and was a leader in the boys’ outdoor activities and sports. Still 
interested in pugilism and prize-fighters, he kept in close touch 
with his brother’s career, and enthusiastically read the sporting- 
page in the newspaper, daily, without fail. With the exception 
of the printing class, the manual-training instruction offered him 
made no appeal to him. 
Ultimately, he realized a long-cherished ambition, and became 
a monitor, helping in the reform work applied to other adventur- 
ous little tackers, who came to the Home when he was recognized 
as one of its desirable citizens. 
The Result 
From Records in the Benevolent Society: 
“Irving I was discharged from the Orphanage on Novem- 
ber 23, 1920. He had been allowed to continue at school, since he 
asked for that chance. Dr. D said that the boy appeared 
to have reached his limit in school interest and attainment, and 
issued the following report : 
“Examined November 23, 1920. 
Intelligence: Mental capacity 15 years. I. C. .86. Social 
classification, usual intelligence. 
Character: Good basis; good organization. 
Health: Precocious physical development. Otherwise health 
is usual. 
Impression: The boy’s main interest is to become a prize- 
fighter or professional baseball player. He has considerable 
aptitude as a printer. He should be a vocational case, should 
be weaned gradually from the institution, to which he has be- 
come greatly attached, and should be readjusted in a boarding 
home. 
“In March, 1921, he was working satisfactorily in a printing 
establishment.” 
From the hoy’s letter, dated April 20, 1922: 
For over a year, I have been a compositor in the S Print- 
ing Co., and have made good wages. I have been helping my 46 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
mother and Ben,1 who is now in the second year of City College. 
I guess he’ll be the best one of the family. He sure is smart. The 
little ones are in the Home and like it there. 
I guess I got to be a prize-fighter after all. Mr. Smith, my 
manager, arranged several fights for me last winter, and I made 
more money in three fights than the whole shooting-match in the 
composing-room saw in all their lives. But I can always be a real 
decent guy just the same. 
I belong to the Featherweight Class, and you just watch me put 
up a battle for the championship, and come out a winner, real 
soon, too. 
Dick2 is some winner right now. He sure can fight some, that 
boy, and he sure does make them smell the dust. I had a big talk 
with him, and since then he gives the family some money every 
week. Just wait till I make barrels of money like him, then the 
kids will have to have educations like professors. 
Don’t worry about me. You just watch me grow, and the 
time ’ll come when you sure will be some proud of me. 
The Featherweight Champion 
Of the World 
(To Be). 
1 His younger brother. 
2 The fifth brother. CHAPTER II 
WEAKLINGS 
Case A, Carl P “The Stool-Pigeon” 
Case B, Parker E “From a Fagin Laboratory” 
Case C, Billy A “The Invalid” CASE A 
CARL P , “ THE STOOL-PIGEON ” 
Entered December 21, 1917. Age 12 years 
The Problem 
1. Delinquency 
(a) Stealing. Was used by a gang as a stool-pigeon; and also, 
on account of his very small size, was employed to climb 
through transoms and all narrow openings, to unfasten 
windows and doors for the house-breakers. 
(&) Persistent truancy. 
(c) Bunking out for weeks at a stretch. 
(d) Incorrigible; not responsive to any form of discipline. 
2. School 
(а) Unreliable and incorrigible. 
(б) Habitual truant. 
(c) Several years’ retardation. Three years in the First Grade. 
(d) Stole from teachers and classmates at every possible 
opportunity. 
(e) No attention or interest in any work. 
3. Home 
(a) Constantly bunking out. 
(b) Quarrelsome and unmanageable. 
(c) Defiant of parental control, and liked to be called “crook,” 
a name applied to him by parents and the neighbors. 
(d) Used very bad language. 
(e) Stealing. When impossible to obtain money by theft, 
would purloin articles from the house and sell them for a 
few pennies. 
4. Society 
(а) Yielded easily to any evil influences coming his way. 
Joined a gang of beggars and had his regular “hang-out,” 
where he and several of his boy companions begged on the 
streets. 
(б) Respected no authority. Recognized and obeyed only the 
leaders of his gangs. 
(c) In the Juvenile Court five times, from July, 1913, to 
December, 1917. 
49 50 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
Copy of Juvenile Court Docket Entry: 
7-2-13. Larceny of $5; placed in charge of Probation 
Officer for three months. 
9-24-14. Larceny of $2.50; referred to the Benevolent So- 
ciety. Postponed to October 10, then to October 31, then 
to November 28, then to January 30, 1915. 1-31-15. 
Dismissed. Boy is to go to R (School for Feeble- 
minded). 
6-7-15. Larceny of six pieces of chocolate candy, valued 
at 60c. Sent to Reformatory pending further hearing on 
November 1. 11-1-15. Postponed to January 3, 1916, 
then to April 20, 1916. Boy is feeble-minded and is held 
at the Reformatory, pending admission to R . 
5-18-16. Dismissed. 
4-20-17. Charged with being habitual and incorrigible 
truant. Committed to the Reformatory till proper place 
can be found for him by the Benevolent Society. 
12-20-17. Minor without proper care. Committed to the 
Children’s Bureau. 
Benevolent Society Record: 
9-25-14. Referred to the Society, on complaint of stealing. 
Binet-Simon seven years. Family conditions the worst 
possible. Recommendation: that patient be sent to the 
Reformatory. 
1. Physical 
(а) Height and weight of a puny six-year old child. Tiny, 
baby features; mild, pleasing expression, and large, dark, 
innocent eyes. 
(б) Frail little body, slouching forward, as if unable to carry 
its own weight. Decidedly undernourished. Listless and 
haggard, the small, pale mouth drooping sadly at the 
corners. 
(c) Diseased tonsils and adenoids. Carious teeth; scabies; 
poorly healed scars from wounds or blows. 
(d) Tubercular history as follows: In January, 1915, was ex- 
amined at the H Dispensary and said to have T.B. in 
the early stage. He was recommended for admission to a 
sanatorium. The following month he was admitted to the 
Consumptives’ Hospital, but was discharged four days later, 
as an incorrigible, impossible to be handled in the hospital. 
In May, 1915, he was again examined by Dr. W , a 
The Analysis WEAKLINGS 
51 
lung specialist, who reported that the boy was free from 
T.B. 
(e) Had frequent colds and coughs. 
(/) Lisped in talking, and pouted like a baby when thwarted in 
any desire, or displeased. 
2. Mental 
(a) Examination: 
In October, 1914, Dr. C——, the psychiatrist, examined 
the boy and reported that he was two years retarded. Dr. 
C felt that the boy was feeble-minded, and advised 
that application for his admission to R be filed, and 
that the boy be sent to the Reformatory, pending his ad- 
mission to R . 
About this time, the mother of the boy complained that 
he could not sleep nights, and had hallucinations. She 
feared that he was becoming insane. 
From Psychiatric Clinic Report, June 13, 1916: 
“Patient was brought into the dispensary for advice. 
Mother and father were once separated for a period of 
ten months, during which time patient developed a habit of 
stealing. He was sent to the Reformatory for ten months. 
His story shows that patient has always been a nervous 
child, afraid of ghosts, afraid of the dark, and having fre- 
quent screaming spells at night. Enuresis until the age of 
six. 
Patient never got on well at school; has had frequent 
trouble with his teachers; fights with the other children; 
smoked cigar butts; untruthful; frequent petty thefts. 
Started to school at the age of six. Always in the First 
Grade. 
Diagnosis: Constitutional inferiority; stealing. 
Binet-Simon showed a mental level of eight years. 
Recommendation: Boy does not need Reformatory 
care. Should enter a playground, and is in need of good 
supervision at home.” 
Examined at H Dispensary, March 12, 1917: 
“Lung condition negative. 
Dr. D reports that boy is highly neurotic; retarded, 
but not feeble-minded.” 
(b) Personality Traits: 
Untidy and careless about his personal habits. 
Inordinately fond of smoking cigarettes and gambling 
with dice. 52 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
Not even a pretence of an independent will; easily led 
and easily influenced. 
Confesses readily, and expresses regret for wrongdoing, 
which, however, he will do all over again on the slightest 
provocation. 
Pleasure-loving; excessively fond of the movies. Would 
beg and steal to get money for the theatres. 
3. Social 
(a) Heredity: 
Father: illiterate, intemperate, shiftless, and subject to 
melancholic humors. A coat-presser by trade, but unable 
to earn a livelihood, and known to the local Charities since 
1907, when he first applied for assistance for his family. 
It was his custom to desert his wife at the beginning of a 
pregnancy, and disappear to parts unknown, reappearing 
several months later, after the expected birth of the child. 
He appeared to have no sense of moral responsibility, 
and when remonstrated with about his unnatural conduct, 
retorted in great surprise, “Why, you don’t surely expect 
me to stay here and stand all that trouble and fuss?” 
During his wanderings he never sent money to his fam- 
ily, and when taken to task, artlessly remarked, “Well, 
don’t I have to live too? Who supports me, do you think? 
I don’t have to worry about her; she can go to the Chari- 
ties, and they take care of her and the children. She ought 
to be glad that she is in such a condition all the time that 
they pity her.” 
He was indifferent to the older children and cruel to the 
younger ones. 
In 1910, he developed insanity and was committed to an 
asylum. 
His relatives — four brothers, one sister, and several 
cousins, all apparently normal and self-supporting and 
respectable members of the community — claimed that, 
while he had always been rather feeble-minded, his wife 
had nagged him so unmercifully that his insanity was the 
result. 
He was discharged from the insane asylum the following 
year. Then, after an examination, it was discovered that 
he was an incipient tubercular case, and he was sent to the 
Consumptives’ Hospital, where he remained for about a 
year. WEAKLINGS 
53 
After his discharge from the hospital, he was deemed able 
to resume his work, but he repeated his former career of 
idleness, intemperateness, and abuse of his family, and 
finally his wife, on the advice of neighbors, had him ar- 
rested for non-support. 
He was dismissed on his promise to reform; and, after a 
reconciliation, conditions in the home improved slightly; 
but soon after, he was again arrested on complaint of his 
wife, who claimed that he had beaten her. He was paroled. 
Matters then progressed a bit more favorably, even 
though the wife was greatly offended that he associated 
with colored people. 
Shortly, he disappeared again, about three months be- 
fore the birth of a new baby. Upon his return, six months 
later, he was again arrested for non-support and sentenced 
to one year in the House of Correction. 
Upon his release in November, 1919, he did not return to 
live with his family. For a while his whereabouts were un- 
known; then he returned, sick, dejected, in tatters and 
rags, promising to reform. 
Late in the winter of 1921, he was working at very small 
wages in a nearby city; and while he in no way contributed 
to the support of his family, he still “did his duty,” he told 
the judge, by visiting his home every alternate Sunday. 
Mother: an unattractive, slovenly, and nervous woman, 
constantly scolding, complaining, or crying. 
She was extremely illiterate, dull, and below par men- 
tally, judged to be feeble-minded. 
Had five living children, three still-births, and two mis- 
carriages, in a period of twelve years. 
Has been accused of immorality by her neighbors, her 
husband testifying, at one time, that she had been associat- 
ing with other men. 
Obstinate, sullen, and uncooperative in attempts made 
to assist her in controlling her children, she met the friendly 
visitor’s advances with obscene language and vile abuse. 
At one time, she insisted that she wanted a divorce from 
her husband, as she was afraid of him and could not pos- 
sibly live with him; but shortly, on her own initiative, 
became reconciled to him and admitted him to the home, 
maintained by the local Charities. 
She made several futile attempts to assist in the support 
of her children and herself; but usually abandoned her 
efforts after a short trial. 54 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
After the birth of her last child, she was found to be an 
incipient tubercular case. 
Her mother, an aged woman living with another daugh- 
ter, cannot be judged as to mentality, owing to the in- 
firmities of age. All other known relatives in the city 
appear to be normal. 
Siblings: Younger brother, at the age of seven, was 
brought into the Juvenile Court, on a charge of stealing. 
A year later, was examined at the H Dispensary, 
and said to have T.B. in the early stage. He was recom- 
mended for admission to a sanatorium, and a month later 
was admitted to the State Sanatorium for Consumptives. 
Was discharged nearly a year later, as cured. 
Was subsequently brought into the Juvenile Court 
again, on a charge of “hanging around” department stores 
and stealing. 
Delinquent and incorrigible. Low mentality. 
Younger sister, frail, delicate, and always ailing. 
At the age of four, taken to the H Dispensary for an 
examination, and said to have a case of T.B. Was recom- 
mended for admission to a sanatorium. 
Mentality undetermined. 
Youngest brother, too young for any definite diagnosis. 
Appears bright and healthy. 
Youngest sister, little more than a baby. 
From appearances, normal. 
(b) Developmental: 
The boy was a subnormal, premature baby, five pounds 
in weight. Was bottle-fed, colicky, and constantly crying. 
He did not seem to grow normally, and made no attempt 
to walk till nearly two years of age. Talked at eighteen 
months. Had several of the children’s contagious diseases 
mildly, but always appeared very frail and sickly looking. 
Enuresis in early childhood. 
He took to the streets when hardly able to do more than 
crawl, and was often picked up asleep on door-steps, and 
brought into his home by sympathetic neighbors, who also 
frequently fed him. 
His father would administer severe beatings to him, 
when cross, and, he in turn, would throw at his parent the 
first object his baby fingers could reach, and repeat the 
vile words he heard, before he could properly pronounce 
them. WEAKLINGS 
55 
Had not received affection or any demonstration of love 
from either parent or relative, and was himself neither 
affectionate nor hankering for affection. 
Fell into the hands of a gang of adult evil-doers when 
barely five years of age, and was taught, and utilized for 
nefarious schemes and undertakings. 
(c) Habits and Interests: 
No bad sex-habits. 
Extremely imaginative; so much so, that he could make 
up three different stories in as many minutes, accusing, or 
exonerating, boys of various wrongdoings, in which he may 
or may not have had any part. 
Cowardly and an informer. To save himself, or to curry 
favor, he would at once confess any iniquities, real or 
imaginary, that were being investigated. Would not 
scruple to betray his best friend. 
Very poor eater. Anxious only for sweetmeats. 
Slept poorly, moaning and groaning in his sleep. 
Very fond of smoking. 
Made every effort to secrete himself during washing and 
bathing times, and preferred to have his shoes torn and his 
clothes ragged, as then he could “have more fun.” 
Was very mildly interested in playing ball, marbles, and 
other boys’ games. “Would rather play with dice,” he 
said; and at every possible opportunity, shot “craps.” 
Books of any kind offered no appeal. 
(d) Home Conditions: 
His home life had been most unwholesome, and unfavor- 
able for the development of the child. The home, of three 
tiny, foul-smelling rooms in a back alley, where fights and 
drunken brawls were a daily occurrence, very early inured 
him to dirt, squalor, and filthiness. 
The house was scantily furnished, the three younger 
children occupying one bed, while he and his brother slept 
on a mattress on the floor. 
His mother was always too busy to give him, the other 
children, or the home, any attention. She seldom did any 
cooking, and fed her family on delicatessen picked up at the 
corner store. 
He was frequently sent for the food, and was more likely 
to spend the money on gambling, or in ways that suited him 
best, than in any purchases for the family. 56 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
As the mother was a very poor manager, the family fre- 
quently feasted for one day, on the allowance allotted it by 
the Charities for a week; and then, for the rest of the week, 
went without the necessaries of life. 
Neither parent showed any interest in his school pro- 
gress, nor heeded his association with gangs. 
(e) Mental Interests: 
Gambling. Anxious to devise new ways and means of 
cheating with dice. 
The Treatment 
He was brought into the institution non-resistant, and totally 
indifferent as to any future disposition in store for him. His Honor, 
the Juvenile Court Judge, in granting the petition that he be per- 
mitted to have the last chance in the Orphanage, had also taken the 
opportunity to have a heart-to-heart talk with him, and earnestly 
advised him to turn over a new leaf, or, at the next offense, he 
would be committed to the Reformatory till his majority. 
“Aw chee!” he confided to the young social worker who was 
escorting him to the Orphanage; “he talks to make me afraid. 
Bet cher life I don’t care, ’cause my pals are there and we ’ll have 
a bully time.” 
“Hello, fellars! She’s brought a new little guy!” sang out a 
small youngster, who saw him enter the hall, propelled by the 
young woman who usually brought the “newies.” The small lad, 
on his way to or from some mission, with youthful exuberance, 
could not wait to announce his news more staidly to his friends, and 
at once gave voice to the report which never failed to arouse in- 
terest. He was however nonplussed when the newcomer retaliated 
by running unexpectedly up to him, and with a proud tilt of his 
baby head, announced, “I ain’t a new guy; I am a crook!” 
When the young woman had sufficiently recovered her com- 
posure to separate her erratic charge from the dumfounded small 
lad, and quickly, without further loss of time, haul him into the 
office, breathlessly explaining and admonishing on the way that he 
must not again so betray himself, he shrugged his small shoulders, 
looked his surprise, and replied nonchalantly enough, “Don’t cher 
know yer got to be slick to be a crook?” 
With this retort reaching and even penetrating the walls of the 
office, and causing two lady visitors to stare at each other in af- 
fright, he was hastily pushed in through the door by the abashed 
young woman, who evidently feared to hazard more queries and 
possible explanations. WEAKLINGS 
57 
His tiny, elfin face begrimed with dirt, his hair tangled and un- 
kempt, great holes gaping from his shoes, his stockings and the few 
clothes on his back in ragged tatters, were incongruously at odds 
with the small, frail figure, which seemed nothing more than that of 
an overgrown and neglected baby. 
“What a poor, dirty little creature!” one of the ladies remarked 
impulsively, expressing the pity she felt; while the other smiled 
invitingly at him. 
“Aw, gwan!” he said, twirling his thumbs contemptuously in 
their direction. 
When the ladies had departed and attention was exclusively 
directed to him, he turned with a sly wink, a bright gleam in his 
eyes, and confided; “Say, mister, yer wants ter make lots of 
money? Nigger Sam showed me how to creep through them cellars 
and come into the stores and swipe the money from them dummies. 
Yer won’t snitch on me, and I ’ll divvy with yer. Want ter see how 
I go through that?” 
Evidently realizing that he was arousing interest, and eager to 
impress with his accomplishments, he waited for no reply, but 
rapidly, with truly amazing dexterity, jumped like a monkey upon 
the door-knob, hung an instant poised at the transom, and in the 
twinkling of an eyelid, was through the aperture, and looking down 
with triumphant gaze, proud of his feat. 
“Them stores around here are dead easy,” he resumed his con- 
fidences, feeling that his victory must be made decisive; “I seen 
them when I comes here with that gink. [A rather unflattering 
term for his escort.] Them places have lots of cellars and slats 
[transoms] and yer can get in as easy as pie.” 
“First, how should you like to be cleaned up and get a nice, 
brand-new suit?” he was asked. 
He shook his head negatively. “Aw, I ain’t any of them old 
gals,” he replied, with a scornful jerk toward the chairs previously 
occupied by the ladies. “Only sissies want duds; ain’t I a man?” 
Violently remonstrating, the “man” spent the next hour in a 
physical cleansing and purification that must have marked an epoch 
in his life; and when he finally emerged from the ordeal, crying and 
lamenting that he did n’t want to be a “gal,” he appeared to be just 
a nice, rather pretty little boy, in need of extra feeding. 
That night he protested against going to bed at the hour set for 
the younger children, stoutly maintaining that he was n’t a baby 
and would go to sleep as he always did, “at any old time.” His 
pleas were unheeded, and he lay sobbing and grumbling till a late 
hour of the night. At midnight, a trip to the dormitory disclosed 58 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
the fact that, while all the other small boys around him were sleep- 
ing the sound, healthy slumber of childhood, he was sitting up in his 
bed tossing three dice. In the dim light, he appeared a tiny, active 
wraith, as his white-clad body moved restlessly to and fro. “ I can’t 
go to sleep so early,” he complained bitterly, with a burst of tears; 
“I never went to bed till ’way after my mother was asleep.” 
He was taken to school the next morning, and was admitted to 
the First Grade. Shortly before noon, the teacher found him sound 
asleep, curled up in his desk, and had great difficulty in arousing 
him. He was sent to the office with a note. 
“Aw, that’s nothin’,” he said in defense; “I always fall asleep 
in school; that’s why them old gals make it so hot for me. I don’t 
like school anyways, so what’s the dif if I fall asleep?” 
A careful physical examination showed that, while he had no 
active tuberculosis or any other organic disease, he needed medical 
attention for minor ailments, and a special diet of nutritious, whole- 
some food for his half-starved, puny little body. Regularity of life 
was forced upon him, to his great disgust; at first, he rebelled and 
ran home for protection; but finding that his mother was power- 
less to resist the Big Brother, who always somehow succeeded in 
finding him at his former home or in some other favored haunt, he 
submitted with the poorest grace possible. After six months, how- 
ever, he became accustomed to a normal life and no longer rebelled 
against early hours to bed. He gained in weight, grew an inch, and 
was a decidedly better physical specimen. In school, he was no 
longer drowsy or sleepy. 
In the months that followed his admission to the institution, the 
supervisor in whose charge he had been put, and the Big Brother 
assigned to him, in their own more expressive than elegant lan- 
guage, “sweated blood.” He stole from the children whatever he 
could lay his hands upon; he managed to elude all vigilance, and 
get into the stores in the neighborhood, hide under the counters, 
and rob the cash-boxes when the proprietors were not looking. He 
seemed impervious to the dreaded punishment of spending one or 
more days in bed, meted out to wrongdoers, to their discomfiture 
and regret, as he succeeded, with uncanny instinct or ability, in 
purloining clothes and leaving his durance. 
One particular afternoon, being in bed as an atonement for some 
sin, he was somehow informed that the Ladies’ Auxiliary was hold- 
ing its meeting in the assembly hall. Unable to get possession of 
his clothes or of others to fit him, he was not at all daunted, but 
watching his opportunity, slipped into his supervisor’s room and 
possessed himself of a suit belonging to that long-suffering and WEAKLINGS 
59 
patient young man. Arrayed in these garments, he succeeded in 
getting into the cloak-room unnoticed, and, as an evil fate would 
have it, went off with the purse belonging to the lady whose 
friendly advances he had repulsed at the first meeting. 
Fortunately his ill-fitting garb was so peculiar on the small form 
it covered, that it betrayed him to the first policeman he met, and 
he was brought back, a pathetic and grotesque object enough, 
volubly apologizing and tearfully explaining that this time it was 
not his fault. He had really meant to keep the promise he had 
made not to steal any more, but the ladies who had visited him in 
the dormitory had told him he ought to be ashamed to be such a 
bad boy, so he became disgusted with them and decided to get 
even. He added naively: “Honest injun, I didn’t want to steal; I 
don’t want to be a thief no more; but what can I do if it wants to 
steal all the time?” He indicated the region of his stomach as the 
abiding-place of his kleptomania. 
He himself returned the purse to its irate owner, who expressed 
the opinion that he should be drowned like a rat, or, failing that, 
be sent to the Reformatory. 
His grimace was impish. “I don’t care,” he retorted indif- 
ferently. “There’s lots of my pals there and they don’t do nothing 
to me anyway. They ’ll send me to that sick place, and the sick 
place ’ll send me back ’cause they say I’m too bad; and then they 
chase me home — and bet cher life, I got lots of fun.” 
A new and hitherto unsuspected light was thrown now upon his 
past wanderings. His life to and fro, from the tubercular patients’ 
Sanatorium to the Reformatory, had developed in him mental 
twists and aberrations. The Sanatorium, deeming him an incor- 
rigible and feeble-minded delinquent, had him committed to the 
Reformatory, which, in turn, finding him a tubercular suspect, sent 
him either to another sanatorium or to his home, with the result- 
ant reaction. 
It was now very carefully explained to him, with no possibility 
of misunderstanding on his part, that he was no longer in need of 
any “sick place.” 
“Aw, ain’t I just sorry,” he ejaculated. Then suddenly his small 
face became convulsed with fear. “Where’s yer goin’ to send me 
if I can’t go to the sick place?” he queried anxiously. 
Unwittingly he pointed to the power that would sway him, and 
probably assist in his reformation. There had been no ambition to 
arouse in him — he had none. There was not the least sense of 
honor or loyalty, even to those he considered his friends. He was 
an arrant liar and coward, and would confess to anything and 60 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
everything, whether or not he was implicated, in the hope of saving 
his own back. He would readily turn informer and report a boy, 
innocent or otherwise, for some wrongdoing in which he was him- 
self involved, thinking to divert suspicion. After the first long talk 
given him, in which it was clearly explained to him that “Nigger 
Sam’s” teachings were regarded in a totally different light from the 
one he held, he no longer offered to divide any ill-gotten gains, but 
secreted what he could not spend. Only one all-absorbing passion 
he manifested, and that was for the moving-picture theatres, which 
were his favorite “hang-outs” during his frequent disappearances. 
He would be brought back by the Big Brother, who usually knew 
just where to locate him, haggard, sad, and contrite, endeavoring, 
with protestations of innocence and appeals for pardon, to stave off 
punishment. 
It often seemed that there was no way of reaching him, as he had 
manifested no fear of the Reformatory, which stood in good stead 
with other boys. Now, as he unconsciously divulged the reason for 
his lack of susceptibility to the usual “terror,” a possibility that 
might be worked to his advantage suggested itself. 
“It’s no use having more patience with you. It’s best to send 
you to the Reformatory now,” he was informed. 
He burst into a passion of wild sobs. “No, no, no!” he exclaimed 
in appeal; “I don’t want to go away from here. Please — please 
give me another chance! I’m goin’ to be good — honest injun, I 
will!” 
With seeming reluctance, it was agreed that he should have an- 
other chance. Before he left the office, an arrangement was entered 
into by which he bound himself to give the same confidence and 
devotion to the Superintendent that he had bestowed upon “Nig- 
ger Sam.” Also, he pledged himself to seek advice when “it was 
telling him to do bad things,” and in no case to disobey his Big 
Brother. The latter was one of the oldest and most reliable of the 
monitors; and having been, as he himself once very aptly expressed 
it, “no angel, believe me,” was a most sympathetic and understand- 
ing collaborator. 
In the ensuing months, it was obvious that he was definitely 
making an effort to abide by his promises. There was still very 
little mischief afoot in which he did not have a share. No boy got 
into difficulties in which he was not somehow inculpated; yet there 
was a distinct improvement in the intervals of good conduct, 
which gradually became more frequent and of longer duration. He 
now would frequently come to the Big Brother and say, with a 
childish lisp, “It wants me to run away,” or, “It wants me to 
steal. Please don’t let it be a crook.” WEAKLINGS 
61 
A consciousness that a crook was not the accepted ideal worthy 
of emulation was gradually, and with no little difficulty, borne in 
upon him. He was desperately afraid of corporal punishment, a 
measure very seldom resorted to, in the worst cases; and a threat- 
ened beating was frequently as successful as a promise of a treat to 
the circus or a theatre. 
An effort was now made to awaken in him a sense of responsi- 
bility, with the object of taking his mind from himself and en- 
couraging him to think of others. He was called into the office and 
asked whether, inasmuch as he was now a good boy, he did not 
think he should help to keep others from wrongdoing. 
His eyes brightened, his chest expanded, he grinned from ear to 
ear, and very pompously made reply, “Sure thing; see if I don’t 
make them behave.” 
A new little tacker, a previous acquaintance of his, was pre- 
sumptively put in his charge. In reality, the Big Brother had him 
under constant surveillance, and the supervisor watched him with 
closer attention, while, in endeavoring to hold the newcomer to the 
straight and narrow path, he was himself forced to observe it. He 
prided himself upon his usefulness, and in time he became so ob- 
sessed with the sense of his responsibility to the community, that 
he felt himself quite a prop in upholding propriety, and deemed it 
incumbent upon him to reprimand the neighbors’ children for any 
slips from virtue. 
It was quite a matter of course that he should one afternoon, on 
the way from school, stagger pantingly into the office, dragging 
after him a neighbor’s protesting son, followed by many children of 
both sexes, who were inmates of the Home, and others who were 
not. His hands were clenched, he was puffing from the unusual 
exertion, but was evidently buoyed up by the righteousness of his 
cause. 
“ This here fellar stole pigeons from the market man and is hav- 
ing lots of fun with them,” he explained. “I told him to give them 
to you, or I’m going to steal them from him and bring them here 
myself.” 
Questioned why he thought stealing from the market man was 
wrong but stealing from the boy would be right, he replied, “Well, 
I don’t want him to have fun with the pigeons, because he stole 
them; and if I steal them from him, I don’t know what to do with 
them.” 
“Why not make him return the pigeons to the market man?” he 
was asked. 
He scratched his ear thoughtfully. “ I never thought of that,” he 62 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
remarked. Then he insisted that some punishment should be as- 
signed to the boy for his theft. Asked what he thought the other 
fellow merited, he unhesitatingly shouted, “He’s a crook; you 
ought to kill him.” Upon being confronted with the possibility of 
a like chastisement being applied to himself for similar delin- 
quencies, he very meekly made answer, “ But you asked it for him, 
not for me.” 
While he was painstakingly observing, and increasing his re- 
sponsibilities, under the watchful eyes of his guardians, his conduct 
at the Home improved and his truancy at school suffered an eclipse 
as his interest in his studies awakened. He had been put into a spe- 
cial class, where he had the advantage of receiving individual in- 
struction; and soon, under the spur of a reward for good work, his 
lesson papers bearing good marks were proudly brought to the office. 
As a week of good reports meant a treat to the theatre, good reports 
increased and multiplied. He developed confidence in himself, and 
maintained that his supposed dullness had been a mistake. “I’m 
smart, only they did n’t know it,” he declared. With further en- 
couragement, he actually made such excellent progress, that he was 
advanced to the Third Grade before the end of his second year in 
the Home. 
His wandering and stealing proclivities became dormant, awaken- 
ing only at the advent of some dominant newcomer who had a 
“wonderful” history to flaunt and the determination to show in 
what contempt he held conventional law and order. Then he 
would occasionally suffer a relapse, and follow the other “hero” 
— whether older or younger was immaterial to him; and he would 
be implicated disastrously in the other’s wrongdoing. “ If I had n’t 
been along, he would have done awful bad things; I did n’t let him 
be very terribly bad,” he once said, in exculpation of such a fall 
from grace. 
By this time, his Big Brother had become his friend, companion, 
and pal, and he regarded him as a real big brother. The older boy’s 
influence prevailed upon him to change many of his undesirable 
habits and characteristics, and caused him to react favorably to 
a suggestion that he become a member of the Scout Troop. He 
also began to display some interest in the manual-training classes, 
and constantly begged to be permitted to join the Scouts on their 
hikes. 
He would slyly possess himself of a Scout uniform, — perhaps 
several sizes too large; it mattered not, — get it wrapped about his 
small person in some inconceivable way, and march into the office, 
saying, “Honest injun, I’m not goin’ to steal it. I just took it to WEAKLINGS 
63 
put on and show you how it makes me look like a soldier. I’m 
awfully good now; please let me be a Scout.” 
He was promised that if, at the end of the school term, his reports 
were excellent, and he had no outbreak against him, he should be 
permitted to join the Scout Troop. 
His efforts to attain his ambition were as interesting as they were 
original. He informed his teachers of the possible fruition of his 
desires, and begged them to help him attain the good marks neces- 
sary; if they thought his work was not coming up to the standard, 
would n’t they please do the work for him and give him the marks 
he needed? Upon being informed that willingness to cheat would 
disqualify him from ever becoming a Scout, as a Scout must be 
loyal and true, he replied appealingly, “But I won’t cheat when I 
become a Scout; so please let me do a little bit this time and then 
no more forever.” 
However, without any cheating on the part of the teachers or 
himself, he succeeded in getting the necessary excellent reports; 
the required six months of probation came and went without any 
definite misdemeanor, and he paraded about in his new Scout uni- 
form, hardly able to give voice to his pride and happiness. 
Later, when he ultimately came back to earth, he very soberly 
walked into the office and gravely announced that his future was 
causing him great concern. He was uncertain whether he wanted 
to be a fireman, a policeman, or a prize-fighter. This normal am- 
bition signified, better than anything else could, that the boy had 
his feet at last in the right path. 
Subsequently, he became a monitor, a Big Brother, and even 
helped with the smaller “problems” who were admitted. His pro- 
gress in school continued, and he showed an aptitude for carpentry. 
He also developed a certain vanity, and was anxious to be dressed 
attractively. He would stand before a mirror and try parting his 
hair in various ways, calling to the boys to notice and admire the 
results obtained. He once wrote a small article for publication in 
the Home paper, and when it appeared in print, strutted about 
with the paper under his arm, waylaying any chance passer-by, 
with the words, “Did you see my name here in the magazine? Just 
look how nice it is!” 
He participated in several Home plays; and when his recitations 
were admired, he decided that he wanted to be an actor. “Not like 
Charlie Chaplin, but one of them big actors that make you cry.” 
When a new boy entered the Home, he was the first to make his 
acquaintance, and promptly gave information in the following man- 
ner: “Say, are you a good boy or a tough?” 64 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
If the answer pleased him, he accorded the newcomer a cordial 
welcome and trotted him around proudly to his coterie of friends; 
if, however, the reply was an unfavorable one according to his 
estimate, he would lay down the law immediately; “Say, you bet- 
ter give up your monkey shines here, or you ’ll be sent to the 
Reformatory.” 
The Result 
Psychiatrist’s Report, May 11, 1920. 
Intelligence: 
Mental capacity 11| years. I. C. .65. 
Social classification semi-dependent. (The fourth mental 
examination made by me on this boy in the past seven years. 
With various tests, the results have been essentially the same. 
During the first years at the Orphanage, there was considerable 
improvement at school; but during the past two years, the 
boy’s intelligence has been apparently stationary in develop- 
ment.) 
Character: 
Basis for character poor from an hereditary standpoint (in- 
sanity, T.B., alcoholism, etc.). The boy has always shown 
neurotic tendencies and a poor basis for character. Organiza- 
tion has been poor, except under Orphanage supervision. 
When that has been exercised, organization has been quite 
satisfactory. 
Health: 
Normal. Physical development inferior. When seen several 
years ago, this boy showed a mental capacity of six years, a 
chronological age of twelve years, with a physical develop- 
ment of eight, and social interests of eighteen. He was a pro- 
fessional gambler, earning frequently $6 a day, with a strong 
sense of loyalty to his mother and great antagonism to the 
father, who had always been vagrant. Under institutional 
treatment, which was suggested from the first, he has shown 
marked improvement. In the institution he is well disciplined, 
and his conduct at present is excellent. His social interests, 
however, are poorly organized — he wants to be a “movie” 
actor, a professional acrobat, a prize-fighter, a lawyer, or a 
doctor, and still admits that he would probably slip back into 
gambling if he were released from supervision. 
As the end of the school year drew near, it was observed that, 
while the boy was industrious and making some slight headway in 
his studies, he had almost reached the height of his mental capac- WEAKLINGS 
65 
ity; and it was questionable whether further schooling would re- 
dound to his benefit. As he was at the time fifteen years of age, it 
was deemed expedient to equip him with a trade or occupation that 
should be a profitable source of future livelihood to him. 
While he had grown and developed considerably during the two 
and a half years, his physique was still not up to par, and prob- 
ably would never be, as both of his parents were decidedly under- 
sized, and, according to the information once volunteered by the 
mother, “came from very small people.” His face was still ex- 
tremely youthful, and all in all, he looked no older than twelve 
years. He was quite athletic, delighted in acrobatic stunts, which 
he copied with singular skill and dexterity from performers he had 
been permitted to see at the theatres, to his intense delight, and 
was rather an adept at baseball. 
If he remembered his dearly treasured dice, he gave no inkling of 
that fact, and seemed quite content with the vicarious marbles and 
balls that he seemed to enjoy instead. He had not developed an 
independent will, and his mind was easily swayed; yet for more 
than a year his conduct both at home and in school had been quite 
satisfactory. What he now needed was the necessary training that 
should enable him to stand on his own feet, in the near future, a 
respected and self-respecting young man. 
It was decided to give him a thorough manual training, with the 
intention of finally turning him into a skillful artisan; and he took 
very kindly to this plan for his future, even though he wistfully 
wished that he might become a heavyweight prize-fighter and lick 
the champion of the day. 
Toward the latter part of May, he entered the office, a dark 
frown upon his face and a worried look in his eyes. His mother with 
faltering steps followed him and encouraged him to make the peti- 
tion she desired. “I got to find my father and give him a licking,” 
was the disconcerting statement he flung out. 
From questions directed to the mother, it developed that the 
father had been constantly drunk, and now, shortly before the birth 
of a new baby, had deserted the family, and she had come to her 
oldest son for protection and assistance. 
“He is a good boy now,”, she insisted, “and he ought to be the 
breadwinner of the family.” 
The boy stoutly refused to go home and become the breadwinner, 
insisting that he “yet didn’t know how to win bread,” but was 
quite willing to go out on a hunt for his father, find him, lick him 
and make him stay home. “He’s afraid of me,” he said, proudly, 
as he protectingly caressed his mother’s hand. 66 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
“Yes, that’s so,” agreed the mother; “when he’s home, that 
bum is got to behave himself. He’s afraid he ’ll be licked.” 
“That’s why I took the cane from the office when I went home 
on a visit,” said the boy; and hastily added, “but I brought it 
back again.” 
“ That cane was a good thing, much better than a stone. You see 
he’s so quick to run away that a stone don’t reach him,” put in the 
mother, coming to her son’s assistance, and presenting a picture of 
her domestic unhappiness calmly and precisely. 
“He don’t dare to beat her when I’m around,” said the boy, his 
fists clenched. 
“That’s so,” agreed the mother. 
“Please, may I go out and hunt him up?” petitioned the boy. 
“Where will you look for him?” he was asked. 
“In the saloons, of course. I know all the saloons where he used 
to get drunk, and I always brought him home.” 
“That’s so,” assented the mother. 
The urgent plea was denied, gently but firmly, and an older and 
more experienced hunter was sent to locate the deserter. 
Several weeks later, the mother again appeared seeking the dis- 
charge of a “breadwinner.” Again her petition was denied, and the 
boy remained in the institution. 
Arrangements were made to give him a thorough course in prac- 
tical carpentry, as he seemed to take more kindly to that trade than 
to any other. It was realized that his limited intellectual capacity 
would prevent him from attaining any position of standing in the 
world, but there was every reason for the belief that he would make 
an honest citizen and a good workman. 
A few weeks later, the Superintendent left for another city, and 
the boy’s grief was genuine and sincere. At parting, he raised his 
hand as if taking an oath. “I promise you I ’ll be good,” were his 
last words. 
In January, 1922, a visit was made to the Orphanage, of which 
he is now rather a useful and interesting member, and the following 
report concerning him was obtained: 
“ He is doing very well. We have no complaints to make. He has 
been taken from school, as we found his continued stay there use- 
less, and is doing extremely well in the carpentry shop. He will 
soon be able to leave the institution and support himself without 
any difficulty, as he is quite a skillful worker.” CASE B 
PARKER E , “FROM A FAGIN LABORATORY” 
Entered March 11,1919. Age 13 years 
1. Delinquency 
(а) A notorious juvenile law-breaker. 
(б) Pickpocket. Also tool of a gang of drug-traders, who 
employed him for their nefarious purposes. 
(c) Violent temper tantrums. Always in fighting humor. 
(<d) Incorrigible liar. 
(e) Bunking out for weeks at a time. 
2. The School 
(a) Long and repeated truancy. 
(b) Exceedingly troublesome, and prepared to strike the 
teacher at any attempt to reprove his conduct. 
(c) Influenced the children in his class to be disorderly, im- 
pertinent, and disobedient. 
(d) Defiant to the School Attendance Officer. 
(e) Used very vile and obscene language to teachers and 
pupils. 
3. Home 
(а) Unmanageable. Very abusive to parents, brothers and 
sisters. 
(б) Stole whatever seemed valuable in his eyes. 
(c) Enjoyed appalling his parents by thefts he committed, 
and the obscenities he boasted he knew. 
4. Society 
(а) Systematically assisted his “gang” to steal from friends’ 
and neighbors’ homes and stores. 
(б) Quarreled and fought with the children of the block at one 
time, and at another influenced them to assist him in 
juvenile misdemeanors. 
(c) No respect for elders. Mocked at authority. 
(ri) Juvenile Court Record: 
1-26-18. Burglarious breaking into and entering the 
oyster-packing establishment at No. — Market Place, 
and stealing therefrom six gallons of oysters valued at 
The Problem 
67 68 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
$18, and a lot of stationery valued at $3. Placed in care 
of Miss R—— for two months. 
3- Probation extended indefinitely. 
5-31-18. Assaulted teacher and has been utterly lawless. 
Sent to Reformatory, pending further hearing on 
September 2. 
7-23-18. Released from Reformatory, and probation 
continued. 
1-23-19. Larceny of one box of candy valued at 60 cents. 
Placed in charge of Miss R for three months. 
4- Larceny of two dollars. (Other boys implicated 
in this charge.) Postponed to April 28, then to May 20, 
then to November 20, when it was dismissed. 
1. Physical 
(a) Well nourished, healthy, and strong. 
(b) Bright, flashing, dark brown eyes, pleasing expression, 
and good features. 
(c) Bushy reddish hair, and good complexion. 
(d) Slightly defective vision, and a number of decayed teeth. 
(e) Fine physique, and pubertal development normal. 
2. Mental 
(а) Examination — Psychiatrist’s Report: 
Intelligence: Moderate mental capacity. I. C. .77. 
Social classification backward. 
Character: Poor basis, and poor organization. 
Health: Essentially normal. 
Impression: The gang of which this boy is a member 
should be broken up, and another attempt made to 
readjust him in a public school. I doubt if he makes 
an adjustment until he has had an experience in a 
corrective institution like the M Reformatory. 
(б) Personality Traits: 
Careless about clothes and personal appearance; very 
abrupt and impolite in manners and ways. 
A hearty eater. Fond of food, especially of sweet- 
meats, and always ready with blandishments and bribes, 
to secure his favorite dishes. 
Pleasure-loving; fond of the theatres and the “movies,” 
and would strive harder to get a treat he desired than to 
achieve progress in any endeavor. 
Easily influenced by a stronger mind. 
The Analysis WEAKLINGS 
69 
3. Social 
(a) Heredity: 
Father: a Russian emigrant, was a man of fair average 
intelligence, who was sober, industrious, and devoted to 
his family. He was completely ignorant of both American 
customs and ways and the language of the country; but 
being a skilled mechanic, he earned excellent wages, and 
was able to maintain his large family in comfort. 
His relatives were all honest, hard-working people; and 
in great bitterness and sorrow of heart he declared that he 
must have sinned terribly, indeed, if God had seen fit to 
punish him with evil sons. 
The fact that the boy was sowing wild oats grieved him 
and he felt disgraced and unhappy. He had attempted to 
control the boy by pleas and bribes, and had then ap- 
plied punishment, to no avail. 
Mother: a quiet, unassuming little woman, illiterate, 
but adapting herself to the manners of the new country, to 
which she had come but a few years earlier. 
The conduct of the boy caused her anxiety and pain, 
and at first, aided and abetted by her husband, she sought 
to turn her son’s straying feet into the path of rectitude; 
and then, when the father had thrown up his hands in 
despair, she worked herself to control the youngster. 
Though her efforts were futile, she persisted, and, as a 
last resource, turned, in her need, to the Orphanage for 
assistance. 
She was quite intelligent, hard-working, and thrifty. 
There had been eight living children born to her in twelve 
years, and she spared no efforts to give them her care and 
attention. She appeared to be devoted to her family, and 
had no outside interests to distract her mind from her 
household duties. 
Her nearest relatives, three brothers and a sister, were 
all promising musicians. She herself expressed an interest 
in music, and confided that her one ambition was to five 
long enough to see one of her boys a Mischa Elman. 
None of her or her husband’s forbears had been other 
than normal and fairly intelligent. 
Siblings: Oldest sister, a bright, normal girl of seventeen, 
was employed in a millinery establishment, and was mak- 
ing rapid progress in her work. There had never been any 
difficulty with her. 70 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
Oldest brother, two years younger than the girl, had 
started the delinquency career in the family. He had been 
a truant, then took to undesirable associates, and con- 
tinually bunked out. Finally, he was arrested in company 
with a notorious crook, and brought into court on the 
charge of stealing. 
He was committed to a semi-reform institution, and 
upon his release, three months later, was apprenticed to 
an electrician. It appears that he got along fairly well 
for a while; then he returned to his former evil associates, 
initiated his younger brother into his gang, and started his 
downward career again. 
Several arrests on various charges were followed by 
his disappearance from the city. Finally, many months 
later, his parents received a card from him in a distant 
city, notifying them in a half-dozen words of his enlist- 
ment in the Navy, and his intended departure for foreign 
waters. 
His present whereabouts are unknown. 
Younger brother, two years younger than the boy, is a 
rather mild counterpart of his two older brothers. An 
occasional truant at school, he is, however, under the con- 
trol of his teachers; and while he is a difficult child for his 
mother to manage, he does not as yet present the problem 
that both of his brothers did at his age. 
Youngest brother, a year younger than the one last men- 
tioned, is a delicate, listless little fellow, whose poor health 
has been causing his parents serious concern. As yet, he 
has been guilty of no misdemeanors, either at home or in 
school. 
Three younger sisters are of too tender an age for any 
possible characterization. They appear normal and 
bright. 
(b) Developmental: 
His mother stated that he had been a fine, large baby 
at birth, and with the exception of a few minor illnesses, 
had not been seriously sick at any period during infancy or 
early childhood. 
He had had the advantages of good, affectionate parent- 
age, and a fairly comfortable home, which, though having 
only a modest income, was blessed in the devotion of a 
good man and woman to each other, and to their family. 
The mother, in deploring her oldest son’s unhappy WEAKLINGS 
71 
career, had sadly observed: “Maybe he lost respect for 
us, because he became an American, and we were still 
greenhorns. He did n’t want to speak our language to us, 
and we could n’t speak English, so he was ashamed of us, 
and made friends with bad boys.” 
If it were true that misunderstanding either brought 
directly, or assisted to bring, the older boy into evil as- 
sociations, certain it is that, for the younger, no such 
excuse can properly be offered. There was no evidence of 
disagreements with his parents due to any other causes 
than his peccadilloes. He had, first at his brother’s insti- 
gation, participated with the latter in several escapades; 
then became a member of the gang, and followed its 
dictates. 
It appeared that he yielded, readily enough, to the evil 
suggestions and influences that beset his path at a tender 
age, by reason of his brother’s unfortunate affiliations, and 
the fact that his neighborhood was an undesirable one. 
Without doubt, his brother’s example was more potent 
in directing his energies than his parent’s exhortations 
and pleas. 
(c) Habits and Interests: 
Very untidy in personal habits. 
Quick-tempered and impulsive. 
Able to tell a plausible lie, and inculpate others. 
When taken to task for a misdeed, he would immedi- 
ately concoct an alibi, and endeavor to shift the blame on 
a boy entirely innocent of the offense. His pal of the mo- 
ment he sought to protect as much as himself. 
Did not seek to gain the favor of the monitors, as most 
cases of his type did, but readily found and consorted with 
the most difficult children, whose lead he then followed 
without question. 
Had generous impulses, when he quite freely shared 
with friend and foe alike his most prized possessions, 
eatable and otherwise. 
Interested in music and dramatics, and displaying 
anxiety to be accorded a part in the Home’s entertain- 
ments and plays, which seemed to appeal powerfully to 
his imagination. 
Indifferent to animals. 
No interest in boys’ sports and games. 72 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
(d) Home Conditions: 
The home was fairly well furnished, and well kept, 
though the mother did all the work for the large family. 
The neighborhood, however, was objectionable for grow- 
ing children, as there were frequent drunken brawls, and 
obscenity seen and heard in the streets, from both the 
white and colored inhabitants. 
No pretense of cleanliness was made by these tenants 
of the ramshackle dwellings, in more or less need of repair; 
with the result that garbage and refuse of long standing 
abounded. Various dilapidated bits of what had once 
been household effects were strewn in the streets, mute 
evidences of the day or night brawls, when they had been 
employed as missiles by contending parties. 
The women of the neighborhood were indifferent as to 
their attire, and walked the streets in untidy and non- 
descript garments. A general chaos and unrest seemed to 
exist among the tenants of the different homes. Children, 
white and colored alike, swarmed in doorways and streets, 
mingling and playing with one another most democrat- 
ically. 
(e) Mental Interests: 
Playing poker and shooting craps. 
Had two old, worn and dog-eared volumes, dealing with 
the impossible adventures of three gallant highwaymen, 
portrayed in a heroic light, which he guarded most zeal- 
ously. Found enjoyment in studying the crude pictures 
with which the books were illustrated; and as his school- 
ing had been extremely limited, it was with great difficulty 
that he worked out each sentence for himself. 
The Treatment 
“It’s awful funny, but there's a lady sneaking around here most 
every day, and she don’t want nothing,” was the rather strange 
report submitted by a trusty monitor, one afternoon on returning 
from school. 
“How do you know she wants nothing?” he was asked. 
“Sure I do,” was the prompt and emphatic response. “When I 
asked her a couple of days ago if she wanted to see somebody here, 
she says, sort of not knowing what to say, — in such a kind of 
voice, you know what I mean, — ‘No, I just want to see the Home.’ 
So I took her around from top to bottom, and believe me, she just WEAKLINGS 
73 
wanted to see the Home like I want another boil on my neck.” 
(As he had just recovered from a troublesome boil, the comparison 
was considered rather striking.) 
“ What are your reasons for thinking that she was not interested 
in seeing the Home?” 
“Then would n’t she look like a regular visitor when you show 
things; and not sort of as if she was looking around for somebody? ” 
He expounded his theories triumphantly. “And then,” he added, 
“she’s been poking around here, — and — ” he hesitated, and 
then brought out firmly, “she asked me about Chinky just before 
I came in here, so — maybe she’s looking to make trouble.” 
“What did she want to know about Chinky?” 
“Search me!” he ejaculated, shrugging his shoulders in an ex- 
pression of puzzlement. “She asked me what kind of a boy he 
was now, and what you were doing to him, and whether we had 
more bad boys like him here — and I told her to come to the office 
and ask you,” he ended. 
“What did she say to your advice?” 
“Just nothing, and walked right off,” he replied, clearly mysti- 
fied and greatly interested. 
“Did you ask Chinky whether he knew her?” was asked of the 
boy, who, as Chinky’s monitor, would hardly lose an opportunity 
to solve the seeming mystery for himself. 
“Sure I did,” he said eagerly, “but there’s nothing doing there. 
Chinky says that he used to live on the same block with her, and 
that she’s got some awful kids — one of them’s in the Reforma- 
tory already.” 
“When you see her again, come and report at once,” he was 
told. 
Several days passed, and then, late one afternoon, he flung into the 
office breathlessly, his schoolbooks swaying widely in his excite- 
ment, and eagerly whispered, “There she is — now — right in the 
hallway — staring at nothing.” 
She was a frail little woman, with sad, weary eyes in a pale face, 
that seemed prematurely faded. She was dressed in neat clothes, 
without pretension to style or material, and was painfully em- 
barrassed when requested to step into the office. 
However, she soon mustered her courage, and timidly followed 
her lead. When she was seated, she looked about her, and noting 
the privacy she was given, she appeared relieved, and twisting and 
untwisting her hands nervously in her lap, she murmured in a low 
voice: “I wanted to see you some time ago — but could n’t make 
up my mind.” 74 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
“What is your trouble?” 
“I am so unhappy.” She was trying to suppress her tears, her 
distress painfully evident. “My eldest son is lost to us forever,” 
— she clutched at her bosom, — “and — my other boy is — is 
in the Reformatory. I am afraid — afraid of this America.” 
“Why?” She was encouraged gently. 
She looked up, her eyes bearing the hurt look of a child, and 
yet the sorrow of the woman. “My husband and I are hard- 
working people, and we never did anybody any harm — and we 
don’t understand why our children should turn out so badly.” 
She trembled, and her face became ashen in its pallor. “The big 
boy became” — she drew her hand quickly across her eyes — “a 
thief. The other one is coming out of that place in a week, the lady 
told me — and I am — I am afraid!” 
She leaned back in her chair, an object of woe and misery. 
Asked to give a short history of her erring second son, she com- 
plied, but always motherlike, excusing and palliating the offenses 
she bitterly enumerated, and wound up with an arraignment 
against her husband and herself. “If only we were n’t so stupid 
and could understand the boys, maybe they would n’t be so bad. 
But he has to work so hard to make a living, and I have to take 
care of the family, that it is perhaps natural for children here in 
America to be ashamed of their greenhorn parents, and do what 
they want.” 
“Have you tried to make the home attractive for the boys, and 
permitted them to invite and entertain their friends?” 
“I did, I did,” she cried eagerly; “I did everything I could to 
keep them home, and let them turn the house upside down. But 
they refused to bring their friends to the house. They said they 
were ashamed of us because we were greenhorns and could n’t 
speak like American people. And — honest, — honest,” — her 
voice broke as she tried to repress her tears, — “I did all I could 
to learn how to speak English, — I even went to a night school, — 
but the language would n’t come to me, — maybe I’m too old, 
and — you can’t imagine how awful it is when parents and children 
do not speak the same language.” 
“Did your eldest son show a special interest in anything at all?” 
She shook her head in a sad negative. “All he cared for was to 
bum and loaf,” she said bitterly, “and I, when we came to America 
was so glad — so happy, that here he would get a chance to be- 
come — to become—0 good God! if he only were an honest man, 
I’d be satisfied now.” 
“What calling had you selected for him?” WEAKLINGS 
75 
Her face fell in shame. “I — I wanted him to play, to be — 
another Mischa Elman,” she murmured. 
“Did he seem to have any talent for music?” 
“No, oh, no!” she said quickly. “But you see my three brothers 
are fiddlers — and — and I always wanted to play also. I can 
play on the violin so well, that no one wants to believe that I 
never had a lesson in my life.” She lifted her head proudly, but 
dropped it again as her mind reverted to her sons. “I am not 
thinking of Mischa Elmans any more now,” she wailed, “I just 
don’t want them to be thiefs.” 
The tears burst forth in spite of her. “Believe me, my hus- 
band’s and my families are good, honest people,” she pleaded 
earnestly, “and I don’t know why God should have cursed us.” 
Suddenly she straightened up in her chair, and her pitiful at- 
tempts to muster self-control and courage were clearly apparent, 
as she coughed nervously and attempted to compose her quiver- 
ing face. “I — I’ve come here to — implore a favor of you,” she 
brought out not without difficulty. “I’ve been calling a week, 
nearly every day — and — I could n’t somehow come in here.” 
Gathering further courage, she continued, “I want you to take 
my boy in here — when he is sent home from the Reformatory 
next week. He’ll be lost sure if he goes back to his friends and — 
that awful creature who has such control over all of them.” 
“What creature?” 
“Don’t you know him?” she questioned in amazement. “Why, 
the neighbors all told me that everybody knows him and is afraid 
of him — that’s why he does what he wants with the boys, and 
even the girls of the street.” 
“Who is he?” 
She looked up helplessly, apparently unable to describe the 
creature in her mind. “He lives in our alley,” she said slowly, 
evidently trying to recall the most pertinent facts, “and he only 
comes out at night — never by day — none of us ever saw him — 
and all the boys like to go to his house. Both of my boys told me 
several times that the — the Lobster, they call him — is a smart 
man, and shows them how to make lots of money.” 
“How long has that man been living in your neighborhood?” 
“When we moved into our house five years ago, he was already 
there. He was always there, the neighbors told me. If I had only 
known of him, we would n’t have bought the house, and he 
would n’t have spoiled my boys.” Then she returned to her 
request. 
“Please take my boy in here,” she begged, “and I’ll try to repay 76 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
you as long as I live. My husband is a very good carpenter, and 
he will bind himself to fix things for you here in the house for 
twenty-five years; and I am a good seamstress, and I’ll sew for 
you as long as my fingers will be able to hold a needle, if you’ll 
save my boy from becoming a thief. I know you can do it,” she 
burst out quickly, trying to forestall any possible objections; 
“that boy Chinky you got here used to be just as bad as my boy, 
and he behaves himself now, even though I saw him go into the 
Lobster’s house one day last week.” 
She had unwittingly given some valuable information concern- 
ing “Chinky” and Chinky’s gang, which again and again had been 
responsible for his lapses from grace, leaving no definite clues as 
to the whereabouts and identity of the leader or leaders, whose 
strong hold on Chinky had not been relinquished, even in the 
institution. 
While the mother was hurrying home, comforted in the thought 
that her request was to be brought before the Children’s Bureau, 
and that she would receive the promised support, “Chinky” was 
ushered into the office, and taken completely unawares with the 
totally unexpected question: “What were you doing at the Lob- 
ster’s house last week? ” 
The boy, himself a leader, albeit a perverted one, knew well 
when to be close-mouthed and when to be loquacious. Now, un- 
able to frame a plausible alibi at the moment, he changed color, 
and stammered, “I — I — did n’t know you knew the Lobster.” 
“What were you doing at his house?” the question was re- 
peated. 
“I went — to tell him that he should leave me alone. That I 
could n’t come to him no more,” he replied untruthfully. 
“Did he send for you?” 
His eyes dropped. “Yes, sir,” he finally murmured. 
“What did he want you to do?” 
His brow wrinkled in the way peculiar to him. “I don’t know,” 
he stated. 
The question was repeated in a sterner tone. He hung his head. 
Again came the question. This time he raised his eyes. “Guess 
he wanted me to go out on a job with the gang,” he confessed, un- 
willingly enough. 
“How long have you known the Lobster?” 
“Since I was a kid,” was the response. 
“Why is he called the Lobster?” 
“ ’Cause he’s as mean as a lobster. Wants everything for himself, 
and takes away everything the boys make from jobs.” WEAKLINGS 
77 
“Why don’t the boys object to such treatment?” 
“Well, ’cause they’re afraid of him. He’s got a pull with all 
the cops, you know, and he says he’ll squeal on them and they’ll 
be pinched.” 
It was a short time after this that the house of the Lobster, a 
rickety, disreputable dwelling, facing the alley, in which was a 
running sewer, infested with rats and vermin, was raided, and the 
Lobster taken therefrom. A misshapen, deformed body was 
topped by a head suggesting several races. While the features 
were distinctly negroid and the skin a dead white, the hair was 
crisp and fiery red. For many years his ramshackle house had 
been the rendezvous for the boys and girls of the surrounding 
neighborhoods, and he had displayed an aptitude that might well 
be termed genius, in discovering and developing the peculiar weak- 
ness of the individual child, and then twisting and further distort- 
ing that trait, till the child was prepared to enter upon its career 
of juvenile delinquency. With fiendish precision and ingenuity 
he had planned his illicit laboratory, carefully planting and foster- 
ing various vices, and apportioning that iniquity to the individual 
child that best suited its characteristics. 
Therefore, in his gang were juvenile offenders of all types and 
kinds, and in proportion as they flourished and prospered, so his 
finances increased, as he permitted them to keep but a fraction of 
their peculations and ill-acquired booty. He was both the head 
and sole teacher in his laboratory of crime, and had neither friend 
nor confidant among the many boys and girls upon whose lives 
he had cast his blight. When apprehended by the police, several 
bank books, bearing large deposits in local banks to his credit, 
were found in his possession, while the poverty of his surroundings 
and his attire would have put to shame the tatters and rags of the 
poorest and humblest beggar. 
It was not without difficulty that the pupil of an up-to-date 
Fagin was permitted to enter the Orphanage, as some members of 
the Children’s Bureau feared his possible contaminating influence. 
However, it was finally agreed to give him a chance, and with his 
hand in his mother’s, he was brought to the office, and upon his 
mother’s reiterated anxious petition, “Tell the gentleman, my 
son, tell him, what you promised me coming here,” — 
“I’m gwana be good,” sullenly muttered the boy. 
The poor mother’s eyes spoke her entreaties and hopes. “I’ll 
sign a paper promising to be your slave, if you’ll only save him,” 
she whispered her extravagant words, as the boy was being led 
away by the monitor assigned to him. 78 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
It was a matter of great surprise that, for the first month of his 
stay at the Orphanage, he was guilty of no flagrant offense. True, 
he had not been altogether angelic in his daily conduct at the Home, 
or in school, to which latter he had at first violently objected, and 
then had amazed all by his tame submission and regular attendance. 
None of the anticipated misdemeanors had been forthcoming, 
however, and it was supposed that the disciplinary measures of 
the Reform School were still fresh in the boy’s mind, and kept 
him to the straight and narrow path. 
This ultimately proved to be but the calm before the storm. One 
morning, the principal of the school sent in a hurry call to come to 
her office. There it was learned that the boy, in company with 
another youngster of a higher grade, who was known as trouble- 
some, had made a collection of the teachers’ purses from the cloak- 
room, into which they had somehow succeeded in gaining entrance, 
and both boys were nowhere to be found. 
The boy’s monitor recalled that the boy had seemed strangely 
silent on his way to school that morning, but was certain that no 
hint had been dropped of the theft, which clearly was then con- 
templated. An exhaustive search for the boys was started, but 
not till a week later was any definite news received concerning 
them. 
The boy, his companion, and another pal had gone to a nearby 
city, where they lived in the streets, enjoying “good times” as 
long as their ill-gotten gains lasted. Then, breaking into a con- 
fectionery store, with intent to rob, they were apprehended by 
the proprietor, who turned them over to the police. In short order, 
they were then returned to their own city, and it was discovered 
that the boy’s two comrades had also been pupils of the Lobster, 
and it was the three who had planned and executed the theft of 
the teachers’ purses. 
Crestfallen and apparently ashamed, the boy sat in the office, 
and penitently told of his sin, with many tears, to which his 
mother added despairingly. 
“They put me up to it — you kin ask ’em,” he pleaded in self- 
defense. 
He seemed unable to grasp the thought that he was equally 
culpable with the instigators of the thefts, and reiterated again and 
again in apparent surprise, “But they said we should do it.” 
“Did you understand that it was wrong to take things that did 
not belong to you?” 
“Guess so,” he replied indifferently. “Been doin’ it a long time 
anyway.” WEAKLINGS 
79 
“Do you know why you were sent to the Reformatory?” 
“Sure,” he responded promptly, “for takin’ things.” 
“Do you want to be sent back?” 
“No, sir, no!” he exclaimed quickly. “I like it better here — 
Don’t let ’im send me away,” he appealed to his mother; “make 
’im keep me here.” 
“But if you take things that don’t belong to you, you can’t stay 
here,” he was informed. 
“I did n’t take the money myself,” he insisted in bewilderment; 
“they made me — you kin ask them.” 
In the talk that followed, it was clearly explained to him that, 
in heeding the bad councils of others, he was as guilty as his ad- 
visers. 
“But the bad things come in their head first, not in mine,” he 
remarked, still uncomprehending. 
“If you listen to the bad things, and let them make you do the 
bad things, are you not to be punished the same way as they?” 
He wrinkled his forehead in thought. “Looks like you’re 
right,” he admitted; “but that Lobster always said to me that, 
if you do what somebody else tells you, you can’t get in no trouble.” 
“You notice you did get in trouble — What about the Reforma- 
tory?” 
“Dunno,” he ejaculated. “Guess the Lobster picked on me.” 
He was evidently under the impression that for a time he had lost 
favor with his master, hence his reformatory experience. 
Believing that he was to be severely punished, he pleaded for 
another chance. It was made to appear that the chance was 
given him only in pity for his mother. His monitor was then in- 
structed to seek his friendship and confidence, while watching him 
closely at all times. 
The ice now broken, he reverted to his reputed character for 
lying and truancy, with a vengeance. The monitor, always at his 
beck and call, was discouraged and hopeless of attaining any 
favorable result with the trying youngster. Long talks were fre- 
quently held in the office with him, and always he had the story 
of someone who had tempted him to a fall. In his efforts to shift 
the responsibility for his delinquencies upon other shoulders than 
his own, he clearly manifested the spineless character of the weak- 
ling in all its frailties. 
“The next time you are reported for wrongdoing, it will be you, 
and you only who is going to take the blame,” he was finally told. 
“Do you understand that you and you only will be responsible for 
your actions?” 80 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
“Yes, sir,” he replied. Then added hastily, “But — but — 
when they ask me to help them — ain’t I just got to do it? ” 
“NO!” 
His face expressed his uncertainty. 
“You are now told that no matter who it is who tells you to do 
anything wrong, you are not to obey.” 
He nodded his head. The emphatic words seemed to decide his 
vacillating mind. 
In the next few months, several causes operated to change his 
attitude materially for the better. First and foremost was his 
growing attachment to his monitor; the older boy, in the role of 
Big Brother, succeeded in gaining the admiration and trust of his 
charge, while assisting to introduce him to a wholesome, well- 
regulated life. In the second place, his two months’ stay at the 
Reformatory had acquainted him with some correctional methods 
that carried no pleasant recollections in their wake. So great was 
his antipathy to that institution, that at first it was a more power- 
ful factor in controlling him than the lukewarm ambitions aroused, 
or the various treats for which he longed. As he became accus- 
tomed to the routine of life in the Orphanage, a possible change 
to the Reformatory as punishment for evil-doing was a threat 
that powerfully affected and influenced his conduct. 
Lastly, he had been informed through several channels, of the 
summary subjection of his former teacher, the Lobster, to a long- 
delayed justice, and his teachings began to appear less alluring and 
more hazardous. So, as his conduct improved at home, and his 
attendance at school became more normal, he actually began to 
make some progress in his studies, and showed interest in the 
manual-training classes. 
His Big Brother was elated with this progress in the right direc- 
tion, and frequently announced with a triumphant grin, “Guess 
that shaver is getting there all right!” 
Unfortunately for this prognostication, evil chance threw into 
the boy’s path a former pupil of the Lobster, who had been plying 
his “trade” very disadvantageously for the stores in his neighbor- 
hood. Shortly after this meeting, in company with an accomplice 
selected to be his companion by the Lobster’s promising disciple, 
the boy was picked up in a five-and-ten-cent store by the out- 
raged proprietor, who caught him pilfering at the counters. 
In the office to which he had dragged both young miscreants, 
the indignant shopkeeper raved about the losses he had been 
sustaining through the thefts of just such rascals, and insisted upon 
the most hasty and violent punishment. He was clearly deter- WEAKLINGS 
81 
mined to make of the two an example that should deter others from 
like practices, and was placated only by a highly colored and 
overdrawn picture of the impossible and cruel punishments 
that awaited the boys at the Reformatory, and left feeling amply 
revenged. 
While the older and more hardened culprit sat awaiting the 
coming of the officer from the disciplinary school, from which it 
was learned he had taken summary leave but the day previous, 
the other fidgeted uncomfortably in his chair, apprehending a doom 
he dreaded. The psychological effect of seeing his pal taken away 
to the institution he feared was most effective in rousing in him 
the keenest regret for his backsliding, and, at the same time, the 
most ardent desire to remain in the Orphanage. 
It had been impressed upon him that his next misdeed would 
take him to the Reformatory, and it was important that the threat 
should prove no empty one to him. Believing that arrange- 
ments were being made for his transfer to his former abode, he 
appealed earnestly to his Big Brother for the latter’s influence in 
his dilemma. 
The older boy, hurt and amazed at a backsliding he would not 
have thought possible, at first turned a deaf ear to the pleas. 
Upon which, the youngster in desperation implored permission to 
see his mother. This was only partly granted, as, instead of being 
permitted the leave of absence he craved, a messenger was dis- 
patched for his mother. 
The poor woman came running at the summons. The boy im- 
mediately at sight of her flung himself upon her neck, and with 
tears and caresses implored her forgiveness, and assistance in 
keeping him at the Home. He prayed to her to intercede for him, 
and pleaded to be given “just one more chance.” 
The unhappy mother readily acceded to his request. To prove 
that this time he would faithfully observe his promises, she pointed 
to the improvement in his conduct for the past few months. 
“He’s never before been so good for such a long time,” she 
pleaded in extenuation of his offense. “He is n’t going to listen 
any more to those bad boys who ruin him —.” 
“Betcherlife, I won’t,” interpolated her son eagerly. 
“He won’t — he won’t — no more!” the mother half-wailed, 
half besought. 
At this juncture, she was reinforced from a totally unexpected 
source. The Big Brother, having had time to ponder the situa- 
tion, reconsidered the rigid sentence he had passed upon the boy; 
and finding his heart softening toward the culprit, entered the 82 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
office, prepared to extend the hand of brotherly love and forgive- 
ness. 
“Say, pal, give a feller a chance,” whispered the youngster, im- 
ploring eyes fixed upon the older boy. 
The latter immediately launched into an appeal for mercy, con- 
cluding his sympathetic address, with the emphatic announce- 
ment, “I guess we ought to let him have another chance.” 
To all intents and purposes, it was his mother’s intercessions, 
aided and abetted by the Big Brother’s pleas, which gave the boy 
another chance in the Orphanage. So he was influenced to be- 
lieve ; with the result that his demeanor toward his mother became 
more respectful and considerate, and his regard for and loyalty 
to the Big Brother increased. 
In the hope of safeguarding his promises, and at the same time 
awakening in him some special interest or ambition, which would 
absorb the leisure moments when mischief beckoned temptingly, 
several conversations were held with him regarding his desires for 
the future. 
At first he was diffident, hardly venturing to express any opinion; 
but, gradually, he gave voice to a mild inclination for “playing on 
the fiddle.” Asked the reason for that particular desire, he said 
timidly, “’Cause I want my mother to be happy. She always 
wanted me and my big brother to be fiddlers like my uncles.” 
“But do you want to be a fiddler yourself?” 
“Sure” he responded with a degree of enthusiasm; “I always 
stole my uncles’ fiddles — you can ask them.” 
“What did you do with the fiddles after you stole them?” 
His face fell. “Gave ’em to the Lobster,” he confessed. 
“Is that the reason you stole them?” 
He shook his head vehemently. “No, I wanted to play on them 
first; but the Lobster made me give ’em to him, and —and — I 
was busy doin’ jobs, I had no time to fiddle.” 
An uncle, a musician of much promise, was engaged as his 
teacher, and the boy took to his violin lessons readily and eagerly. 
He really seemed to have some talent, and actually plodded through 
the long hours of practice that his uncle imposed upon him, with- 
out any show of impatience or unwillingness. As for his mother, 
her joy knew no bounds. Once, in an ecstasy of hope, she whis- 
pered, her face suffused with blushes and her eyes brightening in 
the vision she conjured, “Do you think I should dare dream about 
Mischa Elman again?” 
As for the boy, he progressed steadily in his school-work and 
at his music, and in the year that followed, became a prominent WEAKLINGS 
83 
feature upon the entertainment and play programmes, when he 
rendered selections upon his violin, to the almost delirious delight 
of his father as well as his mother. Determined to express in some 
way their happiness at the improvement in the boy, the parents 
asked him to name his own confirmation gift, whatever that might 
be. 
“Give a big dinner to all them kids,” was the amazing demand 
made by the youngster. 
The “kids” got their big dinner, and the happiest was the host, 
as he himself supervised the extra big helping that he insisted 
should be apportioned to his Big Brother. 
His pilfering had almost completely ceased, he lied less fre- 
quently and readily, and his manners were markedly improved. 
Now and then, in some provocation, he would forget himself and 
burst into a torrent of profanities, which however, he would 
speedily regret, and then tender humble apologies. His future 
career was taking on a roseate hue, when the masterly, clever mind 
of another youngster in the Orphanage subjugated his weaker will, 
and again he fell. 
The ringleader had planned and executed a scheme for illegiti- 
mate money-getting, which had been in successful operation for 
several weeks; and it was only by the merest chance that the 
victim of his cunning and craftiness discovered how he was being 
plundered. The small delicatessen shop in the neighborhood had 
been picked as the most fruitful source of spoil by the youthful 
delinquent, and to further his aims, he had enlisted the assistance 
of two weaker spirits. Leaving one confederate as a watch, either 
to ward off, or to engage in conversation, prospective customers, 
till the contemplated deed had been achieved, the two would enter 
the store, and while the leader absorbed the attention of the shop- 
keeper with sundry requests, or gave orders of imaginary persons, 
the other would rifle the till and appropriate such goods as reached 
his nimble fingers. 
The downfall of the trio was caused by such an unconscious in- 
strument of justice as a monkey. The watcher on the sidewalk 
had so far forgotten his onerous duties as to permit himself to 
become entranced by the antics of an organ-grinder’s simian com- 
panion, performing right in front of the shop, so that the chance 
customer, entering without interference, had ample opportunity 
to note the suspicious actions of the boy at the cash-box. 
The outraged proprietor speedily recognized the situation, and 
pouncing upon the three without further ado, he brought them 
to the office. 84 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
The boy pleaded in extenuation of this new and unexpected 
offense, that at no time had he done the stealing from the shop — 
he had only consented to do the watching, and that, only because 
the other two had “made fun” of him, and called him “sissy” and 
“fraid-cat,” which had tormented him out of all endurance. 
Dismissed for the time being, while the other two were taken 
into conference, he thought quickly, and apparently apprehending 
punishment, took matters into his own hands and flew to his 
parents’ home, Soon, however, he returned, followed by his weep- 
ing mother, a crestfallen father, and several uncles, who immedi- 
ately put up an urgent plea that the boy’s offense be overlooked 
and forgiven. 
“Ain’t it a year already, and I ain’t done nothing bad?” queried 
the boy tearfully, as a reason why judgment should be withheld. 
“I couldn’t help it,” he insisted; “they called me all kinds of 
names, and I just had to show them that I had some spunk.” 
“Let him off this time for the last chance,” begged the Big 
Brother, whose sympathies he had managed to enlist before his 
exodus for his relatives. “ I ’ll be responsible for him.” 
The youngster grasped the older boy’s hand in gratitude, and 
looked up appealingly. “Don’t take me away from him,” he 
entreated. 
The relatives joined in the petition, and the outcome of the situ- 
ation was that the boy was permitted to remain tentatively in the 
Orphanage; though the consensus of opinion was that he was best 
suited to the Reformatory. 
It was recognized at the time that, unless with the passing of 
the years the boy could be fortified to resist the temptations 
thrown in his way by a stronger will, he would fall an easy prey 
to the tempter. Efforts were made to work upon his affection for 
his Big Brother, and cause him to imitate the characteristics and 
actions of the friend he admired with all his heart. 
The latter fulfilled his promise by keeping the boy constantly 
under his wing. During the rest of his stay at the Orphanage, 
there was no further complaint, as he lived a healthy, normal life, 
making fairly average progress in his studies at school. He con- 
tinued with his violin instruction, and expressed the hope that, 
when he grew up, he might become a musician in a theatre, and so 
have a chance “to see a lot of plays all the time, and not have to 
pay lots of money.” WEAKLINGS 
85 
The Result 
From a Report submitted to the Benevolent Society by the investigator 
on the case: 
“In June, 1920, the boy was discharged from the Orphanage, 
and returned to his parents. Upon investigation two months 
later, the mother reported that he was behaving very well. 
“In March, 1921, he was reported as having been truant twice 
during that school term. The teacher claimed, however, that 
there was a marked improvement in the boy. 
“The parents plan to move to a better neighborhood, for his 
sake, and also to safeguard the welfare of the other children.” 
Letter from the boy to his former monitor, dated November 20, 1922: 
Dear Bud: 
Still on my job, on my Scout honor. But I am getting bum 
marks all the same, though I dig in them darn lessons, till I’m 
ready to turn on the water-works like a girl. Say, do I miss you? 
— oh, boy! 
When are you coming out to see me? My old lady says you 
should come for Thanksgiving Day, and believe me, she is some 
swell cook. Honor bright, you come, and I ’ll promise to do any- 
thing you say for a year. We’re in some swell joint, believe me, 
and my old lady gives me everything I want, as long as I dig and 
fiddle. She’s some good guy, believe me. 
I’m a member of Troop K, and last Saturday night wre had 
Troop inspection by some of those high mockme-mocks, and then 
came an Entertainment by the Glee Club, and I had to give them 
a number on my fiddle, and you should see my old lady bawl. 
But she did n’t do that because she was mad with me, because she 
was n’t. Funny, is n’t it? 
Seems like I got to go through High School or bust, the old man 
and the old lady make things so nice for me — guess I got to be a 
good Scout. All the same I wish you had not left B . I just 
miss you like the dickens. How do you like your new joint? I 
hope you miss me like I do you, and then, you can bet your sweet 
life, you’d come back here and stay with us. 
How is Mr. D ? He’s some swell guy. Hope the kids out 
there got some sense and don’t make him lots of trouble. Do they 
like him like us kids did? 
Give him my love. Come on out for Thanksgiving Day, to 
your devoted, loving friend forever and ever, 
Parker E . CASE C 
BILLY A , “THE INVALID” 
Entered October 17, 1917. Age 10 years 
The Problem 
1. Delinquency 
(а) Violent temper tantrums. 
(б) Incorrigible truant. 
(c) Acting “queerly” when excited; his mouth twitching 
spasmodically and his body shaking as if with the ague. 
(d) Inveterate liar. 
(e) Staying out late at night. 
2. The School 
(a) Several years’ retardation, due to truancy. Had not ad- 
vanced beyond the First Grade. 
(b) Defiant and disobedient to teachers. 
(c) Extremely lethargic deportment when in class; his mind 
seemingly a blank, and only roused to any interest at some 
order, to which he instantly objected, and at once defied 
or mocked the teacher. 
3. Home 
(a) Unmanageable. 
(b) Temper exploding at the least provocation. 
(c) Constant quarreling with members of the family; de- 
termined to have his own way. 
4. Society 
(а) Anti-social to young and old. 
(б) Had not a friend of his own age, male or female, and was 
not interested in acquiring any. 
(c) Disrespectful to elders, and defiant to authority. 
The Analysis 
1. Physical 
(а) In appearance, a walking skeleton, covered by a pallid, 
transparent skin. 
(б) Sallow, tragic-looking face, from which the large, brown 
eyes stared dully and lifelessly. 
86 WEAKLINGS 
87 
(c) Stooped, round shoulders, and peculiar, awkward and 
lumbering gait. 
(d) Thick brown hair, waving and curling about his head, the 
only healthy and normal appearing feature of his entire 
physique. 
(e) Swollen and inflamed tonsils and adenoids. Enuresis. 
2. Mental 
(a) Examination — From Report of Psychiatric Clinic: 
“First seen on 12/2/13. Aged 6 years. Mother gives 
history of night-terrors and temper tantrums, and also 
adds that patient is disobedient, and it is perfectly 
impossible for her to prevent him from spending most 
of his time at the movies. His teacher reports as 
to patient’s work in school: ‘Purely mechanical 
work good; mental work very poor.’ 
Diagnosis — Chorea. Bad home environment. Mental 
retardation. Binet-Simon shows a mental retarda- 
tion of two years. 
Patient was referred to Miss B ’s special class, under 
care of Clinic.” 
(&) Personality Traits: 
Scrupulously tidy about his person and his clothes. 
Fond of fussing with his hair, which he loved to form 
into ringlets about his head. 
Turned up his nose in disgust at most dishes placed be- 
fore him. Only accepted eagerly ice-cream, cake, and 
candy. 
Very poor sleeper. Tossed to and fro on his bed for the 
greater part of the night. 
Fastidiously wanted two clean pocket-handkerchiefs 
every day, and was constantly using them to brush imag- 
inary specks of dust from his clothes and shoes, as well as 
for his face, indiscriminately. 
Irritable at times. Extremely sensitive, and would 
burst into tears at any teasing of the children. 
Very easily influenced. Ready to lie in self-defense, but 
as ready to confess a fault if taken to task for it. 
3. Social 
(a) Heredity: 
Father: was feeble-minded, immoral, and syphilitic, 
earning a wage of $6 per week, when he was working at 
any of his odd jobs. He had no trade or occupation, and 88 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
had applied to the Benevolent Society for assistance as 
early as 1905, when he was still quite a young man. 
He had a violent temper and was constantly quarreling 
with his wife and children, whom he abused and ill-treated 
to such an extent that the neighbors were compelled fre- 
quently to interfere. He died from paralysis in Novem- 
ber, 1915, leaving his family utterly destitute. 
His relatives were, without exception, people prominent 
in professional and business life in the city, and of good, 
substantial character. Two of his cousins specially were 
noted, one for scholarship and erudition, and the other as 
the obstetrician-in-chief of a leading hospital. 
After the man’s death, the responsibility of caring for 
his indigent family devolved upon the Charities, which, 
in assuming charge of the unfortunate household, im- 
proved conditions considerably. So much so, that the 
family lived in peace and quietude, and appeared to be 
much happier than at any time during the father’s life- 
time. 
Mother: a low-grade moron, was slovenly, shiftless, and 
unable to think or act for herself. She had been infected 
by her husband with a venereal disease, and was fre- 
quently ill, and constantly undergoing treatment at the 
hospital. 
She complained that her husband’s ill-treatment of her 
had caused her to become nervous, and that she was unable 
to care for her children, who were too nervous and trouble- 
some for her to handle. She also maintained that her 
household duties were too arduous for her, and insisted 
that her young daughter, little more than sixteen years of 
age, should be compelled to care for the home. 
To her neighbors, and all who would listen, she would 
complain bitterly of her children’s ingratitude and lack 
of respect for her. She often visited her relatives, a brother, 
sister, and several nieces, all persons of good repute in the 
city, and begged for funds with which to maintain her 
“needy, starving children.” Her husband’s relatives were 
quite frequently favored with like requests, and then she 
would appeal to the Charities, which maintained her, to 
compel all the relatives to contribute to her support. 
Her favorite occupation was to sit on the doorstep of 
the poorly kept house wherein her home was located, and 
deliver harangues regarding her lot in life, as compared to 
the fate of her relatives. WEAKLINGS 
89 
Siblings: Oldest sister, a fairly attractive girl physically, 
was of rather dull mentality; but she had perseverance 
and tenacity of purpose, and succeeded in being graduated 
from the public school at the age of fifteen. 
When the girl was twelve years old, the mother brought 
a complaint to the Children’s Bureau, that her daughter 
was disobedient and disrespectful, and petitioned that a 
disciplinary school should be the punishment awarded the 
child for her undutiful conduct. 
It was learned, however, that the girl did as much as 
could be expected of her. She had been very unhappy in 
the home prior to her father’s death, and had become ac- 
customed to caring for her two younger brothers during 
the frequent intervals of her mother’s stay at the hospital. 
A Wassermann test was given her, and proved negative. 
After her graduation from school, she was taught type- 
writing and stenography, through the kindness of a worthy 
lady who had become interested in her. Later, the same 
lady, discovering that the girl had a good voice, for which 
she was secretly entertaining longings and ambitions, gave 
her the benefit of vocal lessons. 
The girl undeniably shows an aptitude for singing, and 
is a promising case at present. 
Older brother, was reported, at the age of ten years, to be 
suffering from a gonorrheal infection. He was given treat- 
ment for a long time in a hospital. 
Several years later, his school record stated that his 
attendance was fair, scholarship and deportment good, 
but that he did not care to study. 
He was tongue-tied, and of unattractive appearance 
physically, having large, uncouth features and an ex- 
tremely sallow face. 
The latest report, in 1921, was to the effect that he was 
working as a stitcher in a shoe factory, and earning $15 
a week. 
He is regarded as of normal mentality, and is apparently 
getting along satisfactorily. 
(fc) Developmental: 
From various sources it was learned that he had been 
a premature baby, weighing at birth but three pounds. 
He had been extremely delicate and puny, and surprise 
was expressed that his careless and negligent mother had 
been able to keep him alive. 90 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
His early childhood is but a history of different ill- 
nesses, of more or less severity, treated in one hospital 
after another. He had all the children’s contagious 
diseases, and the attack of scarlet fever, from which he 
suffered when not quite eight years old, left him affected 
with some heart condition, and also chorea. 
When he returned to school, his teacher reported that, 
in addition to his reprehensible conduct, he was sub- 
normal. He was examined, and the physician suggested 
that, inasmuch as he appeared of weak intellect, the best 
disposition that could be made of him would be to send 
him to R , the school for the feeble-minded. 
Application was duly made, and pending its result, the 
boy took matters into his own puny hands, and lived as 
best suited him. 
(c) Habits and Interests: 
Would sit for hours, silently and blankly staring at 
something or nothing, sucking the thumb of one hand, 
while the other hand was busily engaged in forming a 
ringlet of a part of his hair. 
Delighted in a bottle of smelling-salts, which was re- 
garded by him with as much favor as marbles usually are 
by the average boy. He would put the bottle to his nose, 
sniff rapturously, roll his eyes in gratification, and then, 
with a deep sigh, would cork the bottle, and return it 
tenderly to its depository in his breast-pocket, till it was 
time for the next performance. 
Also carefully guarded, and kept concealed in an inner 
pocket, a clinical thermometer (he had appropriated it 
from one of his hospitals), and would religiously take his 
own temperature six times a day, or every two hours. 
Not interested in boys’ sports, games, or plays. 
Liked to finger the pages of a magazine for the purpose 
of seeing the pictures, which he rather enjoyed. 
Found pleasure in witnessing the dramatic performances 
given by the children of the Home, and always expressed 
a desire for the theatres and the movies. 
Showed marked interest in the girls’ toys, and preferred 
the girls’ games and plays. 
Very fond of animals, and took great pleasure in the 
special privilege accorded him, at his request, of feeding 
the Home’s pets with the various foods he carefully got 
together from personal solicitations in the kitchen and 
from individuals. WEAKLINGS 
91 
(d) Home Conditions: 
It was in a neighborhood of squalor and neglect that 
the feeble-minded couple at first established their home; 
and with the passing of the years, both the neighborhood 
and the home still further deteriorated. 
Poorly furnished, without proper ventilation or sanita- 
tion, the three dark rooms that composed the home of the 
family were rendered the more wretched by the constant 
quarreling and squabbling during the father’s lifetime. 
After his death, while there was more peace, there was no 
increase in cheer, or decrease in the poverty which en- 
veloped the household in its dismal grip. 
The father had been a hideous influence in the life of the 
boy, and the mother was not less so, though she took her 
turn in scolding and pampering him. He had no respect 
for the nervous woman, who had no control over her 
faculties, and the dark and unwholesome home repelled 
him. He finally abandoned it in search of greater at- 
tractions. 
(e) Mental Interests: 
None. 
The Treatment 
“Please may I come in? Billy is going to faint right away,” 
sounded in quick, nervous accents behind the door; and almost 
immediately the knob was turned, and in came a young girl, half- 
leading, half-dragging an emaciated youngster, who looked as if 
he were going, not to faint, but to die right there and then. 
“ Give — me — my — medicine — quick! ” he gasped, as he 
sank into a chair, and breathed very heavily. 
The girl quickly opened a much torn and worn suitcase, and 
from a heap of dingy, gray-looking clothes, extracted a bottle con- 
taining some brownish fluid, and a teaspoon, measured out a dose 
with a trembling hand, and poured it eagerly into the boy’s open 
mouth. This done, she breathed a sigh of relief, patted the boy’s 
head, murmuring endearments to him, and then returned the 
bottle to its former place. 
“I told Miss C that Billy could n’t walk so far, and that 
he would die before wTe got here,” she explained, her troubled eyes 
still upon Billy, “but she would n’t listen to me. When the Wat- 
son kids were sent to the Home last week, Miss C sent a taxi 
to bring them here, and we live a block farther away than those 
people do, and Miss C expects such a sick boy to walk all that 
way. I call it downright mean, that’s what I do; I don’t care.” 92 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
“What is the matter with Billy?’’ 
“Why, don’t you know?” she ejaculated in amazement, ceasing 
her ministrations to Billy for the moment, and giving her atten- 
tion to the enigma that was confronting her. 
“I thought everybody knew how sick Billy is,” she remarked, in 
a hurt tone of voice. “Did n’t they tell you that he has an awful 
bad heart?” (Here Billy put his hand over that region of his 
anatomy that he thought must be his heart, but which happened 
to be his stomach, and rolled his eyes as if in pain.) 
“You see?” added the girl, with a triumphant shake of the 
head, and a significant glance in Billy’s direction. 
Assured that Billy’s ills would in the future receive proper at- 
tention, she relaxed somewhat from her nervous tension, and sub- 
mitted the information that she was Billy’s sister, that she had 
brought him up, that she had always nursed him during his ill- 
nesses, and that, if it had n’t been for her, Billy would surely have 
died — “because momma is that nervous, she don’t know what she 
is doing half the time”; and that she had felt it her duty to take 
Billy to the institution, to make sure that his condition was fully 
understood. 
“Miss C was going to bring him up at first; but when she 
did n’t want to take his medicine along, I felt I must take him 
myself and explain things. You know you got to do things for 
yourself if you want to be sure that they are done,” she observed, 
with finality. 
“Ain’t it time now to take my temperature yet?” put in Billy 
weakly, at this juncture. 
“Oh, sure!” promptly replied the girl, and as promptly pro- 
duced a thermometer from her purse, and stuck it into Billy’s re- 
ceptive mouth. 
After a minute, it was Billy himself who removed the encum- 
brance from his mouth, looked at it with close attention for a 
second, and then remarked with infinite sadness: “It’s 99 and — 
ain’t it a fifth of a degree? See, I told you, it ain’t goin’ to be 
normal.” 
The girl took the thermometer from him, glanced at it, and 
nodded her head, sorrowfully. “Maybe they’ll cure you here, 
Billy,” she said, consolingly. “You know,”—she changed her 
voice to proud tones, as she turned her attention from the boy’s 
lugubrious face, — “he does pick up things quick. Did you see 
him read that temperature?” 
“Where did he learn that?” 
“I got them nurses in the hospital to show me how,” answered 
Billy, “and then I showed her.” WEAKLINGS 
93 
“He sure did, believe me!” agreed his sister, triumphantly. 
She then started off again with an eloquent description of the 
delinquencies of Billy’s heart, the recital of which Billy seemed to 
enjoy enormously, when she was interrupted and told not to worry 
any more about Billy as he was going to be cured soon. 
“Oh, no, I’m anti-curable,” hastily put in Billy; and then added 
eagerly, “That’s what all them big doctors said. And my cousin, 
Dr. , said so too.” 
“We got a cousin who is a very big doctor,” began the girl, 
“and he says — ” 
“Well, don’t worry any more about Billy till you’re told,” she 
was stopped in the midst of her information, to Billy’s very evident 
regret. 
When the sister finally took her departure, after repeated warn- 
ings and admonitions about the medicine, the smelling-salts, and 
the thermometer, Billy was informed that now he was going to get 
well speedily, and become a regular boy. 
The boy looked up, with great, hurt, amazed eyes that gleamed 
reproof. “I can’t,” he murmured, sadly. 
“Why not?” 
“Because,” he began slowly, “when I walk too much, or run, I 
get — heart disease.” And again his hand eloquently pressed a 
certain portion of his body. 
“That’s too bad,” — he received the sympathy he desired and 
expected, — “but all the same we’re going to try to be a real boy 
and forget about the heart for a little while.” 
He shook his head negatively, his tragic eyes filled with tears 
of impotent anger and remonstrance. 
Billy was then put in charge of the nurse, and special diets, 
sleeping quarters, and a daily routine, differing from the other 
children’s, were arranged for him. He took rather kindly to the 
innovations that were now inundating his life, and throve almost 
in spite of himself, under the attention given him. No effort was 
made at mental development; the aim for the time being was to 
put him in good physical condition. Soon he heartily enjoyed the 
good, nourishing foods, which at first he had pushed from him 
with repugnance, and found pleasure in the walks, to which he had 
objected for some time. He had at first railed against outdoor 
sleeping; but being compelled to submit to the inevitable, he in 
time delighted in his corner of the sleeping porch. 
When he had finished his bottle of medicine, it was not refilled, 
though he begged and pleaded for it. He was given, in its stead, 
fresh air, food, and rest. After six months of this treatment, it was 
found that his weight had been increased by fifteen pounds. 94 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
By this time, he had become accustomed to the institutional 
environment, and was permitted to take part in the lighter ac- 
tivities allowed the younger boys. He still continued to take his 
temperature and sniff at his smelling-salts, and it was deemed ad- 
visable to permit time, and the boys with whom he was to be 
thrown later, to cure him of those habits. 
Till the next school term, his physical welfare received first 
consideration. He had been transferred from the charge of the 
nurse to that of a supervisor, and while at times he presented ob- 
jectionable traits of character that had to be carefully managed, 
he at no time was a problematic case, with definite delinquent or 
incorrigible tendencies. 
The week before school reopened, he was called into the office. 
“Now, sonny, ready to go to school?” he was asked. 
His face, somewhat rounder now, and decidedly more healthy 
in appearance, took on one of his old-time tragic looks. “I’ll get 
sick again,” he threatened. 
“We’ll have to look out for that. But we also have to look out 
that you become a smart boy and learn how to read and write 
well, and get a chance to be a great man like your cousins, the 
doctor and the professor.” 
There was no answering gleam of ambition in his dark eyes. 
“I don’t want to go to school,” he said; “I want to stay home and 
play with the dogs and the bunnies.” 
“But the dogs and the bunnies are not going to teach you how 
to read, write and count. What will you do when you grow up? ” 
“I’ll keep a store, like the bird man on Broad Street, and have 
lots of animals,” he replied. 
“Then how about starting your store right now, by being al- 
lowed to go to the bird man and pick out an animal, all for your- 
self?” 
His face flushed with joy and his eyes became bright. “Oh, can 
I? ” he questioned eagerly. 
“Yes. How much money have you in the bank?” 
Greatly excited, he almost ran out of the office, and returned in 
breathless haste a moment later, with the pass-book issued to the 
depositors of the Children’s Bank. “See! Here’s my money!” 
he cried earnestly. 
“How much is that?” 
His face fell. “I — I don’t know how — to make it out,” he 
stammered in confusion. 
“Then how will you know what to pay the bird man?” he was 
asked. WEAKLINGS 
95 
His eyes brightened. “ I ’ll give him my bank book and tell him 
that’s all the money I been saving since I came here, and tell him 
to take what he wants,” he replied eagerly. 
His faith in the bird man was evidently strong. “ Suppose the 
bird man tells you that he would rather receive bills instead of the 
bank book for the dog, what will you do then? ” 
For a moment he looked puzzled, then nodded his head as if 
agreeing to the bright thought that had occurred to him. “I’ll 
go to the bank and get the money and give it to the bird man of 
course,” he stated. 
“Let us suppose that the bank makes a mistake and gives you 
less money than you are entitled to — what then? ” 
“Do them banks make mistakes, too?” he queried, his eyes 
large in astonishment. 
“Sometimes. You know you have to count the money you put 
into and draw out of the bank,” he was informed. 
“Ain’t it funny that them bank men don’t like school, just like 
me? ” he remarked. 
To avoid treading on dangerous ground, a question instead of 
an answer was given him. 
“How are you going to know whether or not you receive the 
right amount of money your book calls for?” 
He replied with a hopeless shrug of his thin shoulders. 
The importance of attending school having been forced upon his 
consciousness, he was finally permitted to go to the store, in charge 
of his monitor, who had provided himself with the necessary bills, 
to the boy’s eager-eyed interest. Soon he returned, all smiles and 
happiness, hugging a tiny puppy under his coat, because, as he 
explained, “That big wind will make him catch his death of cold”; 
and he held out the squirming little creature with admiring af- 
fection. “J’ever see anything so bu-too-ful?” he cried in his 
ecstasy. 
He also submitted the information, after his joy and pride in 
his “dog” had become more normal, that if it had n’t been for the 
monitor, he should n’t have known how to purchase and pay for 
his pet; so he felt it incumbent upon him to heed the advice given 
him by the older boy, “to go to school and learn something.” 
In the months that followed, he learned many things, though 
very slowly and with apparent difficulty. His mental capacity was 
below his age, but he plodded along steadily and faithfully, pre- 
senting none of the delinquencies of his previous school record. 
His deportment was good, and he seemed desirous to keep up with 
the work of his class. As his health was still the first consideration, 96 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
he was permitted to continue his slow progress in his school-work, 
no effort being made for more rapid improvement. 
Meanwhile, at the Home, his life was undergoing more radical 
and novel changes, which were to affect his habits and conduct, 
till the metamorphosis of his character was complete. Mingling 
more freely with the boys, he became interested in boyish activi- 
ties hitherto unknown to him, and actually began to enjoy the 
flying of a kite and a game of marbles. He even learned to emit 
a cheer, at first half-hearted and feeble, then strong and lusty, 
when his favorites excelled on the baseball diamond, forgetting to 
feel his heart for any after-effects. 
The smelling-salts were doomed when the boys started the de- 
risive question, “Howt’s the smeller, Billy?” A few days later, 
when the smelling-salts had not been in evidence, and speculations 
were rife concerning the hitherto ubiquitous bottle, Billy marched 
soberly into the office and very gravely put a small packet wrapped 
clumsily in newspaper on the desk. “I want to send them for my 
momma,” he announced. 
“What are they?” 
“My smelling-salts for momma to smell, and my thermometer 
to take her temperature,” he replied with a sad gravity, a doleful 
shake of the head. 
“Why are you sending them to your mother? Don’t you want 
them any more?” he was asked. 
“I don’t know,” he replied thoughtfully. “My temperature is 
normal all the time — and — and the boys laugh at me.” He 
brought out the last bravely, swallowing the lump in his throat 
manfully, though the tears stood in his eyes. “I — I — can’t any 
more look in the looking-glass and stick my tongue out to see if 
it’s coated — they make fun of me — so what’s the use of them 
things?” he ended bitterly. 
Asked how he felt since he had discarded the medicine, smelling- 
salts, and thermometer, he looked up and seemed for several mo- 
ments to be thinking. Then, “I got a lot to do and sometimes 
have n’t even time to see how my heart is going,” he answered, 
reproach in his voice. After which, he secured wrapping paper, 
and making a neat package of his medical paraphernalia, labori- 
ously scrawled his sister’s address thereon, and sent them to her, 
with the advice to “keep them for momma.” 
He continued to attend school for the next few years, and while 
his conduct presented no difficulties, his scholarship was only fair 
at its best, as his mental faculties remained sluggish. He was com- 
pelled to apply himself intently to a subject, and it was only by WEAKLINGS 
97 
dint of extreme endeavor and frequent coaching that he was able 
to make his grades even as slowly as he did. His concentration was 
extremely poor, but his efforts were undeniably painstaking. 
The boy’s mind, though needing constant encouragement and 
assistance in its development, was not feeble, and later, it was 
noted, that, as his health improved, his mental faculties became 
brighter. As he grew more of a boy, and less of an invalid, he 
became more cheerful and was decidedly happier. His pets, of 
which he accumulated a fair number, assisted him greatly in ac- 
quiring a more normal aspect of life, as they took the important 
places the thermometer and smelling-salts had previously occupied 
in his mind. 
In time, his face lost its tragic expression. While he remained 
delicate in appearance and in constitution, for nearly three years 
he had no real illness, and seemed fairly on the road to a normal 
boyhood. Gradually also, he acquired a fondness for the manual- 
training shops, in which he spent several hours every week, and 
became interested in the Boy Scout activities, in which he fre- 
quently participated. His happiness, however, lay in his fondness 
for his dumb pets, whom he loved and cared for with the utmost 
untiring devotion. The first book he himself read from cover to 
cover, and with complete enjoyment, was one dealing with animal 
life, and his ambition to have “a bird and all kinds of animals 
store” when he grew up persisted with him. 
Ultimately, he became a mild-mannered, gentle little chap, whose 
slow mind could be trained to any occupation not needing strong 
vitality or a vigorous intellect. 
The Result 
From Records in the Benevolent Society: 
Billy A , born February 25, 1907. 
“ Examined August 7, 1920. 
Intelligence: Mental capacity 9 years. I. C. .64. Social clas- 
sification semi-dependent. 
Character: Poor basis, with an hereditary foundation. Parents 
feeble-minded. Father syphilitic. Boy has had chorea. 
Character fairly well organized. 
Health: Functional heart-trouble reported by hospital probably 
of little significance. 
Impression: Casefor sympathetic routine,institutional training.” 
“In December, 1920, Billy A became ill and was taken to 
the H Hospital. He had pneumonia, and his heart also was 98 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
in a bad condition. He was at the hospital five months, at the end 
of which time he was placed in a private home in the country. He 
was examined several weeks later and reported on as follows: 
‘Patient is in very good condition. His heart is compensating; 
there is still a mitral regurgitation (a flowing backward of the blood 
through the mitral valve), but with complete rest during the sum- 
mer, and a continuance of the present hygiene, his recovery should 
be rapid. The boy looks remarkably well and seems in excellent 
spirits.’” 
In a letter from his sister, dated November 16, 1921, appear the 
following pertinent paragraphs: 
“Billy is getting to be a big boy now, and has n’t been sick for 
a long time already. I go to visit him often in the country where 
he stays in a very nice home. I wish they would keep me there 
too, and I know he is very happy. He goes to school yet, and will 
be promoted from the Seventh Grade next term, so the boarding 
lady, who is a very nice lady and I like her very much, told me. 
“ She likes Billy an awful lot and bought him a new dog when 
Jim wTas run over by an automobile and killed. Billy nearly cried 
himself to death, but now he feels better since he got the new dog. 
But he says he will never forget Jim, who is buried a little ways 
away from the house, and every day he goes there with the new 
dog. He wants to make flowers grow over the grave. I guess I’ll 
have to buy him some seeds for roses. He says he is going to have 
a big store with all kinds of birds and animals when he grows up, 
and will give away puppies to all the poor little boys for nothing. 
That would be awful nice, but I would much rather he would be- 
come a big Professor like my first cousin, Professor , or even 
a doctor like my second cousin, Dr. .” CHAPTER III 
WANDERERS 
Case A, Benjamin E “A Babe Ruth” 
Case B, Frank L “A Soldier op Fortune” 
Case C, Isidore S “A Knight of the Streets” CASE A 
BENJAMIN E , “ A BABE RUTH ” 
Entered March 20, 1916. Age 11 years 
The Problem 
1. Delinquency 
(a) Molesting and attempting to misuse little girls. 
(b) Frequent truant; unwilling to attend school. 
(c) Extremely lazy and disobedient. 
(d) Easily influenced by older boys, who led him into all sorts 
of mischief. 
(e) Was the favorite “tool” of the gang-leader in his neighbor- 
hood. 
2. The School 
(а) Several years’ retardation. 
(б) Very poor effort; either could not or would not concen- 
trate on any subject. 
(c) Used objectionable language to the teachers when reproved 
for deportment or scholarship. 
(d) Passed obscene notes to the girls in the class. 
(e) Defiant and unmanageable. 
3. Home 
(а) Disrespectful to mother. 
(б) By the direction of the leader of his gang, he would steal 
any money he could find, or purloin various articles which 
could be sold and converted into cash. 
(c) Unmanageable. Determined to have his way with his 
mother, at any cost. 
(d) Used vile language. 
4. Society 
(а) Easily persuaded to enter the neighbors’ homes or stores, 
and steal money, or food, or merchandise. 
(б) Enticed small girls into hall-ways for improper purposes. 
(c) Took a malicious delight in throwing a stone into a plate- 
glass window, and then accusing some other boy of the act. 
(d) An inveterate liar and loafer. 
101 102 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
1. Physical 
(а) Very short in stature and quite stout. 
(б) Ungainly in appearance; florid face, large cheek-bones, 
heavy features, of which the thick, sensual lips stood out 
most prominently. 
(c) Rather fair skin, hairy, and also deeply freckled. 
(d) Small, pale-blue eyes, lacking lustre and animation. They 
seemed like two colorless beads stuck into a massive, putty 
head. 
(e) Tongue-tied. The impediment rendered his speech defec- 
tive and very slow in utterance. 
(/) Large, clumsy feet, but exceedingly nimble and active in 
movement. 
(g) Long, awkward hands, covered with warts and other ex- 
crescences; very strong and supple. 
(h) Unusual gawky gait: head slouched forward, shoulders 
hunched; but the heavy body surprisingly rapid and 
dexterous in running, jumping, and leaping. 
2. Mental 
(а) Examination — Psychiatrist’s Report: 
Intelligence: Essentially normal. I. C. .94. 
Character: Apparently normal basis and organization. 
(No adequate data.) 
Health: Essentially normal. 
Impression: Good institutional case. Vocational guid- 
ance essential at or after fifteen years of age. 
(б) Personality Traits: 
Careless and slovenly about person and clothes. 
Hearty eater, and very fond of candy, ice-cream, and 
cake. 
Sound sleeper; can be awakened only with difficulty. 
Not vindictive; readily forgiving and forgetting an 
offense against him. 
Easy-going, pleasure-loving, and extremely lazy. 
Had a strong aversion to study, and craftily devised 
various ways and means of staying out of school. 
Inclined to be affectionate, and capable of great en- 
thusiasm and ambition for that which most interested him. 
The Analysis WANDERERS 
103 
3. Social 
(a) Heredity: 
Father: a native of Russia, came to America shortly 
after his marriage to a young woman of his own town, who 
had succeeded in saving some money during many years’ 
service as a domestic. When the savings which had 
brought the couple across the Atlantic were exhausted a 
few months after their arrival, the man applied to the 
Charities for relief. 
His relatives, two uncles, who conducted a tailoring 
establishment in partnership, were interviewed, and they 
expressed themselves as being willing to employ him, pro- 
vided he would agree to work and not “loaf on the job.” 
The man was duly engaged as a presser on clothes, at 
twelve dollars a week, by his relatives, and very soon the 
latter called at the office of the Charities, and requested 
that he be brought to account by some one in authority, 
and be compelled to behave himself. They accused the 
man of brutally ill-treating his wife, who was soon to be- 
come a mother, and of being “a gambler, a bum, and a 
loafer.” 
The man, when taken to task for his misconduct, coolly 
supplied the information that he was ten years younger 
than his wife; that he was too handsome and tall for so 
homely a woman; that he had married her for her money 
in the first place, so that he could come to America; and 
she ought to feel quite fortunate that he had been her hus- 
band for so long a period. He expressed amazement that 
he should be expected to work in a “free country,” and 
said that, if he had intended working hard and steadily, he 
had no reason to leave the old country. Further, he added 
that it was no one’s business how he demeaned himself. 
He was threatened with deportation unless he reformed 
his ways; and as if in answer to the advice given him, at- 
tempted within the same week to shoot his employers 
because they refused to give him more money than he had 
earned. He was arrested and sentenced to sixty days in 
jail. 
While he was in prison, his son was born. Both mother 
and child were cared for by the Charities, the man express- 
ing neither interest in, nor desire to see his child. A few 
days after his discharge, he disappeared, without visiting 
his wife or seeing his son. Though the Charities made 104 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
every effort to locate him, his whereabouts were never 
discovered. 
In the years that followed, neither his wife nor his rela- 
tives received a letter from him, or any clue that he was 
still in the land of the living. 
Mother: unattractive in face, and so stunted in growth, 
that she was barely four feet tall. At first impression, she 
appeared to be a dwarf. 
She was of low mentality, very much in love with her 
husband, stating that she was quite sure that he loved 
her, only that some evil spirit was made jealous by that 
love, and in revenge stole her husband’s good and noble 
soul, substituting instead the wicked soul of a scoundrel. 
Her hopes that the man would return to her ran high, and 
she made pitiful attempts to earn and save money, which, 
she innocently said, would help to keep him devoted to 
her. 
The baby was a source of comfort and happiness to her, 
and she took in washing, and, later, kept lodgers, so that 
she might be enabled to keep the child with her. Both of 
her undertakings for a livelihood were unsuccessful, and 
she finally worked out as a domestic, on very small wages. 
She was known as an incompetent worker, and had 
difficulty in securing positions, both on account of her small 
stature and because she insisted upon having the boy with 
her. For ten years, she worked alternately as housemaid 
and cook, in families which gave her a poor wage and ac- 
commodations for herself and child, in return for service 
more or less poorly done. 
The boy, as he grew older, was left to his own devices on 
the streets, and she soon found that she was unable to con- 
trol him. Added to this, her employers objected to the 
boy, on the ground that he was an evil influence to their 
own children, besides being a general nuisance to the 
neighborhood. She lost several positions on the boy’s 
account, and finally, in desperate financial straits, begged 
the Children’s Bureau to assist her in raising the child, to 
whom she clung with most unselfish and absorbing love. 
She was advised to permit the child to enter the Orphan- 
age; but to this she strenuously objected, on the ground 
that he was, “Thank God, not an orphan,” and that her 
husband, on his return, would never forgive her for not 
caring for his son herself. WANDERERS 
105 
For several more months she had a hard and bitter 
struggle, on the one hand to secure and hold a position, and 
on the other, to manage the disobedient and impertinent 
boy. The latter solved the situation, when he was haled 
to the Juvenile Court, with several of the leaders of his 
gang, for some offense, and the Judge committed him to 
the Children’s Bureau, as a minor without proper care. 
Confronted with the probability of her idol’s ultimate 
destination to the Reformatory, the mother withdrew her 
objections, and the boy was finally admitted to the Orphan- 
age. After this, her difficulties considerably decreased, as 
she readily found employment, and worked steadily, 
though at smaller wages than domestics of her experience 
were wont to receive. 
Her wants being very few, and the needs of her son met 
by the institution, she gradually started a bank account, 
which, as it increased, encouraged her and also increased 
her belief that her beloved husband would soon return to 
her. 
She remained a meek, timid, patient little bit of a 
woman, working as best she knew how, which was never 
very efficiently, and indulging in her day-dreams regarding 
the husband who had deserted her. She visited her boy 
frequently, bringing him gifts, and supplying him with 
spending money in plenty. 
There were no relatives or friends of hers in America. 
(b) Developmental: 
The boy had been a large, healthy baby, weighing nine 
pounds at birth. The mother had suffered intensely at 
delivery, and had been quite ill for several months after his 
birth. She had nursed him herself and claimed that she 
had given him “the best care” as soon as she was able to 
leave the hospital. 
From her statements, it would appear that she often 
neglected her duties in the various households which had 
employed her, in order to give the boy sufficient care and 
attention. 
“I used to take the top off their milk, and hide the finest 
cuts of meat for him,” she remarked triumphantly, “and 
you should have seen how big and fat I made him.” 
Physically, at least, the boy had no deprivations during 
his infancy and early childhood, but his mental and spir- 
itual development was left solely to chance. Without a 106 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
doubt, the different mistresses of his mother tolerated him 
with but poor grace in their homes; and, left to his re- 
sources in the streets, he easily absorbed and yielded to the 
suggestions of older and stronger boys. 
His mind, weak, and easily moulded by a stronger will, 
adapted itself readily enough to the delinquencies and 
obscenities in the curriculum of the neglected child of the 
street. The one power which might have exerted any in- 
fluence over him was his mother; but this poor creature, 
herself a spineless, self-effacing being, could not even com- 
mand his respect. He was hardly past his infancy, when he 
understood that she was quite frequently the object of 
ridicule and reproof. 
As he grew older, he perhaps unconsciously imitated the 
speech and actions of other people toward her, with the sad 
result that, in a short time, she was an object of contempt 
to him. It is questionable whether he realized her devotion 
to, and sacrifices for him; and it is doubtful whether it 
would have influenced him in any way, if he had known 
and understood the extent of her love for him. 
He had always been the bone of contention at his 
mother’s positions; consequently the influences of the 
various homes were hardly favorable to the development 
of his character, or powerful enough to counteract his 
natural tendencies. 
His childhood had really been without a guiding hand to 
direct and control him. 
(c) Habits and Interests: 
Fond of standing in some out-of-the-way corner and 
ogling the girls. 
Interested in all books dealing with baseball. Devoured 
all baseball scores; and anything and everything pertain- 
ing to baseball was received and read with enthusiasm and 
evident pleasure. 
Ready to plan and play a game of baseball at any time. 
Very anxious to argue about the game, the players, their 
successes and defeats, and their private and public lives. 
(d) Home Conditions: 
He had never known a home of his own. The make- 
shifts that the various homes he had lived in were to him, 
had not been productive of one wholesome influence or 
good impulse to check the lawlessness that held him in its 
grip. WANDERERS 
107 
In fact, as his mother had been in the habit of feeding 
him upon the purloined dainties from the tables of her em- 
ployers, he early became inured to deceit and fraud. 
Often he had been housed in a good home; but the home 
was not his, and never had it permitted him to receive the 
hospitality and cordiality of its hearth. 
He had always been an encumbrance to the good people 
who had to endure him for his mother’s service, and had 
been made to feel that he was an unwelcome stranger in 
the family circle. 
(e) Mental Interests: 
Baseball — nothing but baseball! 
The Treatment 
The small ringleader, determined to have him punished for tres- 
passing upon her grounds, pushed, and shoved, and pulled at him, 
aided and abetted by her tiny companions, till she laboriously suc- 
ceeded in hauling him into the office, where, with a sigh of relief, 
she caught her breath, and panted, “This new boy mixed up our 
ring.” 
Five small heads indignantly bobbed in unison in support of the 
complaint, while the leader, her courage reinforced and her breath 
restored, frowned at the culprit she had in tow, and further ex- 
plained: “He wants to be lazy Mary, — an’ he’s too big, so we 
chased him out — an’ he did n’t want to go.” 
“Let him go play with the little boys,” advised the assistant 
ringleader. 
The other heads nodded affirmatively. 
“We don’t want no big boys in our rings,” maintained the ring- 
leader independently. 
“You hear that, son? Don’t you think it would be better for you 
to play with the boys?” he was asked. 
He hung his head in embarrassment, but managed to lisp, “I — 
I liketh — the girlths better ’n the boyths.” 
The little girls tossed their heads scornfully. “We don’t want 
him,” asserted the small leader. 
“Well, in that case, you run along and play ring again, and leave 
him here,” they were advised. 
Off they gladly trooped, in triumph, their enemy, very ill at ease, 
resting his weight on one foot, then on the other, and trying to pull 
his cap to pieces in his confusion. He had evidently been severely 
punished before, as his cringing, tense attitude plainly betokened. 108 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
In the hour he had been at the institution, he had haunted the 
supervisors’ rooms, had been ordered out of the kitchen by the 
cook, had intruded upon the Monitors’ Congress meeting, and had 
been advised to go out in the yard and play with the boys. Now he 
had antagonized the little girls and disturbed their “ring.” 
“Why do you like girls better than boys?” he was asked. 
“Be — coth — be — coth,” he stammered, “I dun — no.” 
“Anything you like better than girls?” 
“ Yeth, sir, — I — I liketh to play — ball,” he replied, eagerly. 
“Good, son, good!” he was encouraged. “You just keep away 
from the girls and play ball instead.” 
He was taken out to the yard again, introduced to a half-dozen 
boys of his size, and advised to try his hand at the game. He 
brightened as he realized that the punishment he had feared was 
evidently not forthcoming. Whether he would have preferred to 
have girls for his playmates or not, certain it was that, on that 
particular afternoon, he was careful to keep within the precincts 
favored by the boys. 
Much against his will, he was taken to school the next day, and 
placed in the lowest grade. Before the morning session was over, 
he asked to leave the room upon some pretense, and walked direct 
to his mother’s latest place of employment, a distance of three 
miles. The poor creature would gladly have shielded and protected 
him, but her mistress objected, and herself volunteered to bring 
him back to the institution. So, with his pockets full of pennies 
that his mother could ill afford, as a bribe, and a relentless and stern 
mentor as a guide, he was again the penitent in the office. 
“Iranth away,” he explained, nervously, “be—coth I don’th 
liketh —school, an’ I can’th do what I liketh in this plath.” 
“Well, I like that!” ejaculated the lady in amazement. “I 
should like to give him a good shaking.” 
Instead of a “shaking,” he was given a good “talking to,” and 
advised to apply himself at school, so that he might be granted the 
privilege of participating in the athletic activities taught the boys, 
and be taken on the hike, in which he had already manifested some 
interest. The idea of qualifying for the Junior Boy Scout Troop 
was also politically suggested to him. He appeared impressed, and 
after promising not to leave without permission again, went out to 
relieve his feelings with a game of handball with the younger boys. 
In the months that followed, it was with great difficulty that the 
boy was induced to attend to his lessons, and to keep his mind 
from the small girls and their games. In proportion as they dis- 
liked and objected to him, he was the more eager to be in their WANDERERS 
109 
midst. The monitor who had him in charge bitterly complained 
that he was “sissy mad/’ and was anxious to be permitted to ad- 
minister a severe beating, to drive the girls from his head. 
Such a drastic measure not being resorted to, efforts were made 
to keep him under constant observation, while it was attempted 
to counterbalance his desire for girls with his love for ball. He 
responded so slowly, that it was necessary to keep him occupied, 
when not at school, in the manual-training shops. Not till he had, 
with much coaching, encouragement, and enforced industiy, suc- 
ceeded in getting into the Third Grade, when he was able to read 
did a successful solution of his difficulties seem 
possible. 
He had listened and been enthralled with the older boys’ talks 
and apparent knowledge of baseball; and now that he could read 
himself, he swallowed with avidity every word and sentence he 
could master concerning the game. The promised reward of a treat 
to a baseball game was sufficient to drive the thoughts of girls 
completely from his head. At the game, he was the most enthusi- 
astic fan there; he rooted, shouted himself hoarse, cheered, ap- 
plauded, jumped up and down in his excitement, and once, in 
sheer gladness that his favorite player won, forgot whether his 
escort was to right or left of him, and in the exuberance of his joy, 
flung his arms about an elderly gentleman beside him and hugged 
the breath almost out of the surprised and discomfited individual. 
It was now smooth sailing with the boy for a while. He was as 
eager to progress at school as his teachers were anxious to have him 
go ahead, since every commendable report card meant to him a 
treat to a baseball game. Through the medium of the game, many 
of his lazy habits were being gradually overcome. An extremely 
sound sleeper, he was always the last boy to be awakened in the 
morning; but during the baseball season, he would be the first to 
come downstairs, seeking the daily newspaper in the vestibule, 
from which he gleaned the latest scores. 
As he grew older, and reached the Sixth Grade, his passion for 
the game increased. Now, as he was able to read quite fluently, 
he made a complete study of the famous star players and their his- 
tories from the cradle up, learned the exact total of their salaries per 
year, and was acquainted with their averages. He knew the names 
of all the stars in all the leagues in the country, and knew the best 
points of each. His favorite hero was Babe Ruth, whose praises he 
sang ceaselessly, and who was indirectly responsible for the bloody 
nose he gave a boy at school one day, and his subsequent fall from 
grace. 110 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
The boy had dared to take issue with him in reference to the su- 
preme position held by his idol, and had maintained that “ Teddy” 
Roosevelt could have been a better ball-player than Babe Ruth, 
had he not preferred the presidency of the United States. Further, 
adding insult to injury, he said that it was of much more importance 
to be the president of the United States than a ball-player. 
The result of such radical views was that a fist fight ensued in the 
school yard to settle the matter at once. As the champion of Babe 
Ruth was the stronger and mightier, his adversary would have 
been compelled to yield his mistaken notions, and all would have 
been well, had not a badly bruised face and a bleeding nose called 
the principal’s attention to an infringement of her rules. For the 
protection of all endowed with the fighting spirit, a rule had been 
passed at the school, strictly prohibiting fighting. Offenders were 
severely punished. 
When a notice came from the principal’s office to the combatants 
requesting their presence in her office, the erstwhile enemies shook 
hands in commiseration, and took themselves off, not to the office, 
but each to a different destination. The defeated one went for con- 
solation to his home, and the conqueror, remembering that at the 
Home an injunction against fighting was also in force, hied himself 
to his old bulwark for protection — his mother! 
He appealed to her to take him back to the Home, and intercede 
with the Superintendent for him; and the poor creature, greatly 
flustered and extremely nervous, received an unwilling leave of 
absence from a frowning mistress, and hastened to her offspring’s 
defense. 
The boy followed in the wake of his tiny, deformed parent, and 
seemed greatly distressed and unhappy. In his halting, lisping 
fashion, he told of the altercation and fight that had taken place, 
saying that he had gone to his mother because the other boy had 
done likewise, and had so advised him. He added that, when he 
faced his mother, he realized that it was not the wisest thing he 
might have done, but then he took advantage of the opportunity 
and asked her to help him get out of his trouble, promising he 
would never be in trouble again. 
Here, intuitively seizing her cue, the mother came to the rescue 
with an unique excuse. 
She started falteringly, but gained courage and strength as she 
proceeded. “It — it was n’t his fault,” she stammered. 
“Not his fault?” was echoed in surprise. 
“Y — yes.” She coughed and tried to clear her throat. “His 
father ran away too, so he has it in him to run — so, please forgive 
him — because he can’t help himself.” WANDERERS 
111 
The boy however shattered the strength of her argument, by put- 
ting in, “ I hain’t — got ith in me, — to run awath, and I hain’t 
going to run awath — liketh my fatherth.” 
He added an earnest petition for pardon, promising to be peace- 
ful and law-abiding in the future, even if Babe Ruth were further 
attacked by friend or enemy; and peace was restored. Then, as 
had been agreed, he himself went to the principal, made a clean 
breast of the occurrence, and offered due apologies and regrets. 
He was duly restored to favor; but his admiration and love for 
his hero and idol continued to grow stronger. Finally, as an outlet 
for his feelings, he built an enormous baseball diamond of card- 
board, and secured nails of various sizes, to each of which he as- 
signed the venerated name of a popular baseball star, the heaviest 
and strongest nail bearing the magic talisman of “Babe Ruth.” 
These “players” he placed in their respective positions, and with 
the aid of disc-like squares which he himself made, he executed 
skillful moves and truly remarkable pitches, which always resulted 
in increased glory and renown for his favorite. 
All now went well at the Home and in school, till he reached the 
age of puberty. 
It was then reported that his former desire to mingle with and 
molest the girls had returned, and that he seemed strangely inter- 
ested in the girls’ games, frequently neglecting even his beloved 
ball-playing. 
One of the supervisors also complained that the boy was con- 
stantly following her. As soon as she left her room, she was visited 
by his presence, and he seemed to be her very shadow. Turn which 
way she might, there he was, following her with his eyes, from some- 
where. He would sit upon her door-step, and wait for her to leave 
her room in the morning. He would fabricate numberless reasons 
for being near her, seeming ecstatically happy when permitted to 
fetch or carry something for her, and during the rare intervals 
when, on some pretense, he succeeded in being close to her. When 
he was able to touch her hand, he appeared transfixed with rapture. 
At first the young woman had been amused at such manifesta- 
tions of puppy love; but as the constant presence and attentions of 
the boy became very annoying, she tried sharply to discourage 
them. When she found that neither her reprimands nor her orders 
were productive of any effect, she brought her complaint to the 
office. 
The boy was interviewed. He sobbed out his regrets that his 
conduct should have vexed the object of his admiration, but ex- 
plained that “ I liketh her so much, that—I alwath wanth to be by 
her.” 112 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
“Do you like her better than Babe Ruth?” he was asked. 
He turned red to the roots of his hair, and stammered, “I liketh 
her — in — in a differenth way.” 
“What way?” 
He looked discomfited and exceedingly unhappy. After thinking 
a while, he said, “I — dunno.” 
“Now, look here, son! What should you say to quit bothering 
about Miss F , and give your attention entirely to baseball, 
when not at school?” 
He looked up, but there was no answering gleam in his eye. 
“How should you like to play on Babe Ruth’s team when you 
grow up?” 
His mouth opened in genuine amazement, and something that 
was almost fear was manifested in his eyes. “Good — neth!” he 
breathed. 
“Well? — Should you?” he was encouraged. 
“You bet!” he ejaculated, all eagerness. 
“Then suppose you start working for that goal right away. You 
know enough about baseball to lead the Home team. Get busy, 
speak to the larger boys who are good players, have them elect you 
captain of the new team you ’ll organize, send out challenges to 
other teams, and be a winner. We ’ll fix up about the pennants and 
prizes later.” 
The boy’s face became alive with animation. “Ca — can I 
— start — this after — noon?” he questioned hopefully. 
‘ ‘ Sure thing! Go right ahead! ’ ’ 
He left the office on feet that seemed winged. He flew from one 
boy to another, and before the close of that day had successfully 
manipulated matters, in spite of his lisp, so that the “Dauntless 
Club” was shortly formed. The newly organized team was wildly 
enthusiastic, and for many weeks the institution was in a hubbub 
of delirium occasioned by the new baseball paraphernalia, — bats, 
balls, mits, — which had been demanded and duly received by the 
ambitious players, enlivened with fresh vim and vigor. The girls 
rather resented the generous support given to a sport which made 
their basket-ball appear a tame second, but were comforted by a 
future independent suffragette, who, hoping to apply the balm of 
consolation, remarked, “They ain’t got our brains, and their cap- 
tain ain’t got our tongue, so we should worry!” 
As for the boy, he completely forgot the object of his first love, 
and devoted himself to practising and playing with his team. He 
was the pitcher. Now, after school-hours, his loud, shrill tones 
would ring out in the yard, proclaiming in his own, lisping vernac- WANDERERS 
113 
ular that “the batsman made a th’ee base hit!” — “The batter 
kissth the tomato forth a th’ee plath dinner!” — “Scorth th’ee 
base!” and so on. 
So absorbed was he in the game, that once, when asked at school 
to name some scientific marvels of the age, he glibly responded, 
“Babe Ruth, Ty Cobb, and George Sisler!” 
After his graduation from school, he was admitted to the City 
College, and his mother’s ambitions were aroused. She came to the 
office, and timidly suggested that he would make an excellent doc- 
tor, and that she was ready to work for the rest of her life to help 
him get a medical education. 
“Aw, who wanth to be a doctor?” exclaimed her son in dis- 
gust. “I — ’ather be a basethball player.” 
“Too bad!” sighed the poor woman in her disappointment. 
“He’s like his father. He did n’t see things straight, and now his 
son takes after him. What fool would want to be a baseball player 
instead of a doctor?” 
As for the boy, he worked steadily at his school duties, played 
enthusiastically, and dreamed happy dreams of a future in which 
Babe Ruth always had some share. When his report card bore an 
“A” in English, it was suggested to him to form a new department 
in the Home publication, and become the Sporting Editor. 
The proposition was embraced with alacrity, and the following 
contribution from him graced the next issue: 
Milos Bow before Dauntless 
The Dauntless Club inaugurated its season by defeating the Milo 
Club 15-3 in a loosely played game. The team had practically the same 
line-up as before, with a few additions. It was our game from the start. 
While nothing happened in the initial frame, the Dauntless came back 
strong in the second inning, netting seven runs and driving B from 
the hill. R , formerly the Merit’s mainstay, then took up the burden, 
but he could not check the onslaught of our heavy-hitting team. On the 
other hand, our pitcher was as steady as a clock, and held the Milos at 
his mercy. Seeing that the game was ours, our team became a bit care- 
less, and in the sixth, when the dust cleared away, the Milo Club had 
chalked up three tallies. 
Our boys played in mid-season form, and all the players showed up well. 
L , A , K , P and B were shining lights, covering 
themselves with glory by their timely bingles. In a fortnight we will 
cross bats with the Spartans, and we expect a victory over them. 
Unfortunately, the anticipated victory did not materialize, and 
still smarting under the disappointment, he wrote the following 
arraignment for the next publication of the paper: 114 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
Athletics have come to the front in our country and claim the attention 
of everybody. What the trouble is with some of our boys here, it would 
be hard to say, as they certainly do not lack spirit and loyalty. 
Baseball is our chief sport, and in order to produce a strong team that 
will be a winner, we need plenty of home spirit. We cannot afford to have 
only nine candidates try out, and build up a strong team with this ma- 
terial. We want every boy in the Home to try out for the team. If you 
do not make the team this year, don’t forget that the experience gained 
in trying out will do you good, and you will surely profit from the practice 
received. 
There seem to be some boys who have not the proper spirit. They seem 
to feel that they are forced to come out and practise and they do it with 
a sullen air. You’ve got to wake up, fellows! Do you want the Spartans 
to beat us again? Don’t forget that the Home depends upon you, and 
you owe your support to all its activities. 
Those of you, particularly the girls, who cannot make the team that 
plays on the field, must lend your aid by hearty cheering. The team 
on the field cannot win out, unless the CHEERING TEAM does its 
share. 
Come, let us all unite in spirit, and work for the same purpose, that of 
always bringing the laurels of victory to the Home we dearly love. 
There is hope that we will get a new playing outfit and uniforms, but 
we have to show everybody we deserve it. Uniforms do not make a team, 
but, if there is good fellowship and good spirit, we will have a better chance 
of securing it. 
When it is time for practice, we would like to see at least twenty can- 
didates take the field. 
Quick, fellows, wake up! 
In the newspaper, he was interested only in the sporting page; 
and when it chanced that his favorite team lost a game, he would 
take the pains to blue-pencil the winning team, and try to prevent 
any verbal mention of the play or the players involved on both 
sides. 
He was passing through the critical stage of adolescence without 
further difficulty, and became a normal, serviceable member of the 
large family in the Home. 
To commemorate his greatest victory, “Poetical Doughnuts,” 
the “poet” in the Orphanage, was inspired to write a poem, as 
follows: 
“Dethimalth” at the Bat 
Our Dauntless Nine were struggling on, 
But it seemed it was all in vain; 
Last inning — and the score 3 to 5 — 
Hardly a chance to win the game. WANDERERS 
115 
But is there not a ray of hope? 
Baker’s coming to bat; 
But he can’t hit a ball with a shutter 
Although he’s as spry as a rat. 
“Give us Dethimalth Benny, 
He can surely swat the tomato.” 
But alas! four men precede him — 
He must wait, for his turn comes later. 
And then, when Baker wiffed at three, 
And Tyley did the same, 
Not a man in the whole pavilion could say, 
“The Dauntless will win this game.” 
But then Catcher Pilzer, who followed, 
Beat out an infield hit, 
And when Forest poked a single to right, 
Everyone had a fit. 
For here comes Dethimalth Benny, 
The champion home-run hitter; 
The enemy’s outfield is moving far back, 
And is n’t the pitcher’s heart bitter? 
Five thousand voices bellowed forth 
As he stepped up to the plate; 
Ten thousand feet pounded the floor, 
As they gazed at Dethimalth the great! 
There was a smile of determination 
On the face of the stocky youth, 
As he swung the heavy war-club 
Once used by the mighty Babe Ruth. 
But even then, to Dethimalth 
This bat was much too light, 
For last year he pulled down an apple-bough, 
And that bat suited him right. 
At last the pitcher wound up, 
The ball sped over the rubber; 
Now what is Dethimalth going to do? 
Dethimalth, Dethimalth, the clubber! 
Now reader, don’t do an injustice, 
Just remain quiet and calm, 
Dethimalth will not do the Casey act, 
He is not a false alarm. 116 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
Hark! The fans are cheering. 
Has Dethimalth murdered the ball? 
Yes, a slashing drive, a home run 
Right o’er the right field wall. 
Oh, what yelling, oh, what joy! 
The Dauntless has won the game! 
The fans were mad, not one was sad, 
They were yelling Dethimalth’s name. 
There was joy all over Shelteringville, 
But the joy was not their own; 
Dethimalth was the happiest man in the world; 
Miss F bought him an ice-cream cone. 
Note. — He had found decimals exceedingly hard to comprehend, and 
his pronunciation of the word brought him the nickname of “Dethimalth,” 
which stuck like glue to him. 
The Result 
From Report in the Benevolent Society: 
“ In October, 1920, it was reported that Benjamin E , who 
was in the Second Year City College, was receiving poor rating in 
his school-work. Dr. D was consulted, and he advised that the 
boy should go to work, if he was wasting his time at school. The 
following month, acting upon the psychiatrist’s advice, the boy left 
the City College and secured a job in an office. His salary was ten 
dollars a week. He continued to live at the Home, and turned over 
most of his earnings to his mother. -d 
“ In July, 1921, he was discharged from the institution, and placed 
in a good boarding home which had been secured for him. His 
mother had been saving his earnings, and his bank account is now 
up in the hundreds of dollars.” 
May 29, 1922. 
Dear Friend: 
It gives me great pleasure to comply with your request and re- 
port to you on Benjamin E . 
He was discharged from the Orphanage July 3, 1921, and was 
placed in a boarding home — Mrs. M of St. 
The boy has been working steadily, earning twelve dollars a week, 
and paying his own board of $7 a week. 
His conduct is most satisfactory. 
(Signed) L. 0. G., 
Executive Secretary, Children’s Bureau. CASE B 
FRANK L , “A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE” 
Entered December 4,1917. Age 13 years 
The Problem 
1. Delinquency 
(а) Petty pilfering. 
(б) Bunking out for days at a time. 
(c) Street begging. Particularly fond of frequenting the 
shopping district in very severe weather, and, by ragged 
attire, and pitiful stories told at length at store entrances 
and crowded corners, enlisting the sympathy and com- 
passion of passing shoppers. Found women easy victims, 
and collected a rich harvest of coins from them, till ap- 
prehended by the police. 
(d) Leader of a gang, named after him, which specialized on 
“midnight work” in homes. 
(e) Violent temper tantrums and extreme obstinacy. 
(/) Marked sex-tendencies. 
(g) Vile and obscene language to neighbors. Extremely quar- 
relsome. 
2. The School 
(a) Excessive and repeated truancy. 
(b) Ambitionless, disobedient, and sullen. 
(c) Insulting to teachers, and defiant of their authority. 
(d) Several years’ retardation; decided that he was old enough 
to go to work, and had no use for any schooling. 
(e) Made efforts to influence younger boys in class to join 
him in bunking out, and on begging expeditions. 
3. Home 
(a) Very troublesome and unmanageable. 
(b) Pilfering at every opportunity, no sympathetic instinct 
being aroused by extreme poverty or illness of parents. 
(c) Liked the experience of being knocked about from one 
place to another, and boasted that he was “too smart” 
to remain any length of time in one place. 
(d) Enjoyed thinking that the younger children were afraid 
of him. 
(e) Interested only in having his own way. 
117 118 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
4. Society 
(а) Hated the neighbors, and resented their interference, 
which had been the direct cause of the charges preferred 
against him at the Juvenile Court for begging, stealing, 
vagrancy, and shooting craps. 
(б) Refractory and defiant to school-attendance and probation 
officers, and interested only in very old grandmother, who 
let him have his own way, and to whom he flew for refuge, 
when in conflict with the authorities. 
(c) Very untruthful and extremely insolent. 
(d) Fond of influencing younger boys and girls to follow him 
in his misdeeds. 
(e) Juvenile Court Record, containing every possible delin- 
quency imaginable. 
1. Physical 
(а) Short, squat stature; very dark, hairy skin, and lustreless 
black eyes. 
(б) Good development and strength; hands having an un- 
usually powerful grip. 
(c) Rather mature features; head irregularly shaped; heavy 
black brows meeting at the bridge of the nose, and impart- 
ing a sinister, sullen expression to the face. 
(d) Teeth neglected and crooked, and face full of blemishes 
and scars. 
(e) Discolored and broken nails on hands, which were badly 
scarred and bruised. 
2. Mental 
(а) Examination — Psychiatrist’s Report: 
Intelligence: Normal. I. C. 1.01. 
Character: Poor basic organization. (Begging, steal- 
ing, etc.) 
Health: Essentially normal. 
Impression: Good case for institutional training, and 
vocational guidance after fourteen years of age. 
(б) Personality Traits: 
Restless, obstinate, and independent. 
Given to sullen silences, or hot outbursts of temper 
when crossed in his desires. 
Fond of good food; interested in athletics, and devoted 
to the “movies.” 
The Analysis WANDERERS 
119 
Untidy in personal habits, and extremely bad table 
manners, bolting food and gulping down soup or water 
in loud grunts. 
Likes to boast of his exploits, and tells impossible 
stories of adventure, with himself always shining as the 
“hero.” 
Anxious to excite admiration, and entertaining firm 
belief in his powers and ability to influence others, and 
also to judge them. 
Is greatly amused by quarrels which he instigated. 
Shows undue interest in girls. 
3. Social 
(a) Heredity: 
Father: of very low type of mentality; was irresponsible, 
shiftless, and at no time made enough to support himself 
at his trade of tailoring. Early in 1901, he applied to the 
Benevolent Society for assistance for his family, which at 
that time included three children. He claimed that the 
illnesses of both his wife and himself prevented them from 
giving the children the necessary attention, and that the 
entire family was in dire want of the necessities of life. 
During the next seven years, while the Charities were 
supporting the family, which had, in the meantime, in- 
creased to the number of eight children, the man became 
very quarrelsome in the home, seldom worked, and con- 
stantly complained of illness. 
A medical examination showed that he had a tubercular 
hip, but was able to work. He used a crutch and com- 
plained of pain in walking. He frequently drank to 
excess, and refused to cooperate in the attempts made for 
his relief and assistance by the Charities. As the children 
grew older, and became troublesome and unmanageable, 
he appealed to the Children’s Bureau for sympathy, but 
stubbornly refused to cooperate or accept any of the sug- 
gestions made for the children’s welfare. 
In 1908, shortly after the birth of the youngest child, 
the home was broken up, as the illness of his wife com- 
pelled her stay at the hospital for a prolonged period. 
Then the Children’s Bureau sent the older children to 
child-caring institutions. When the woman’s health im- 
proved, the home was reestablished, but domestic con- 
ditions grew worse from year to year in the family. The 120 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
man was very abusive to his wife and the children, and 
quite frequently very cruel. 
In 1917, neighbors appealed to the Children’s Bureau 
to place the younger children away from the home. The 
man at this time was quite willing to be rid of his progeny; 
but his wife objected, on the score that he would drink 
himself to death if he were relieved completely from all 
responsibility. She died during the year. 
Three months after her death, he married a woman of 
some intelligence, who cared for the poverty-stricken home, 
and also took an interest in the children. However, six 
months after the marriage, this woman applied to the 
Charities for assistance, complaining bitterly of her hus- 
band’s treatment of her and her own seventeen-year-old 
boy, and requesting monetary aid. Later, she reported that 
her husband had succeeded in sending her son out of the 
home, and that she was worried about the boy’s welfare. 
She also stated that he was exceedingly quarrelsome, that 
his actions were unbearable, his language vile, and that he 
showed absolutely no interest in his own children, whom 
he declared he was going “to chase out of the house.” 
In 1919, this woman, to whom her step-children had be- 
come attached, and whose own son had taken to the 
streets and been sent to a reformatory, died of a tumor. 
Four months after her death, the man remarried again. 
His third wife was a cripple and an epileptic, who found it 
extremely difficult to attend to her household duties. 
The man then brought his wife’s pitiable condition to 
the attention of the Children’s Bureau, and begged that 
he be relieved from the responsibility of caring for his 
children, who were now incorrigible and delinquent and 
could not be controlled by either him or his wife. He 
further stated that his income was hardly sufficient to 
support himself, and pleaded that some assistance be 
rendered his wife. 
He was very happy when his “burdens,” as he termed 
his children, were taken from him, one by one, to private 
homes and institutions, and calmly continued his career 
of shiftlessness and pauperism. 
He prided himself on a claim — not to be substantiated, 
however — that his origin had been of the most honorable 
and intellectual. Investigation revealed that the only 
relatives who could be traced were an aged mother, sup- WANDERERS 
121 
ported for more than a score of years by the Charities, and 
an impoverished brother, also a tailor by occupation. 
The former, greatly affected by the infirmities of age, 
was relapsing into her second childhood, and was, physi- 
cally and mentally, a withered relic of humanity. She 
sympathized with her erratic son, and attributed his fail- 
ures and mistakes in life to his first wife’s influence. The 
right kind of woman would have made a man of him, 
lamented the aged creature. 
Her favorite grandchild was the boy, the subject of this 
case, and to him she gave her affection and devotion, with 
the result that the youngster flew to her on every occasion 
when there was a penalty to be paid, and an officer of law 
or order to be evaded. Always she shielded him, lying in 
his defense, and seeking, in her error, to assist him in hav- 
ing his own way. Frequently she would save the pennies 
allotted to her for her food, in readiness for her grandson’s 
request for them. She would have harbored him perma- 
nently in her room, had not her boarding-home mistress 
stoutly objected to any such proceeding. 
Her second son was of very ordinary intellect, who was 
having a hard struggle, assisted by his wife, to earn a 
livelihood. He too had a large family to support; but he, 
unlike his brother, did not shirk his responsibilities. His 
children presented no problems to the community and 
were apparently normal. Their mother was a hard- 
working, honest woman, who was devoted to them, and 
sought to give them educational opportunities above her 
means. She, as well as her husband, concurred in the old 
grandmother’s opinion, that the daughter-in-law had in- 
spired the shortcomings of the man and his children. 
Mother: a woman of low mentality, grossly ignorant 
and improvident, who was notorious, in her neighborhood 
of poor and slovenly homes, for having the poorest and 
most unkempt one of all. She had been a poorly paid 
worker in a factory during her girlhood, and since her 
marriage had had a bitter struggle for existence, as well 
as constant ill-treatment and abuse to bear. To the latter 
she retaliated, in a degree, with quarrels and vile language, 
which in time she employed as fluently as her husband; 
but she never made any effort to escape or control the 
flood of poverty, wretchedness, and misery that encom- 
passed her life. 122 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
In a period of eleven years, she bore her husband eight 
living children, all single pregnancies, and had three mis- 
carriages. She constantly complained of one illness or 
another, and after the birth of her youngest child, re- 
mained at the hospital for more than six months, while 
her home was broken up and her children scattered in dif- 
ferent homes. At all times, she displayed but a mild in- 
terest in them, being more anxious to keep them together 
for the purpose of retaining her hold on their father, than 
because their fate gave her much concern. 
She finally developed cancer of the stomach, and was 
bedridden for several years before her death. Her known 
relatives were two sisters of indifferent fortunes, in a 
neighboring city, who manifested but a passive interest 
in her and her family. Both of these sisters, when com- 
municated with after her death, pleaded that their own 
poverty and large families prevented them from taking 
any interest in their sister’s children. Their letters were 
couched in such illiterate language, that they conveyed 
the impression that the writers had little intelligence and 
less wisdom. 
Siblings: Oldest brother, was eleven years old at the time 
the home was broken up, and was sent to an institution 
by the Children’s Bureau. The records of that orphanage 
show that he had been a most difficult child to manage, 
but that he had improved under proper care. Unfortu- 
nately for him, he was taken out of the institution by his 
parents at the time they reestablished their home. He 
had but little schooling, and was sent to work before the 
age of fourteen, his father swearing falsely that he was 
sixteen at the time. 
He had difficulty in keeping a job for any length of 
time, knew no trade, and was taught none, and finally he 
began to shift around from one shop or factory to another. 
Gradually he became a gambler and took to wandering 
aimlessly to and from the nearby towns. At the time of 
his mother’s death, he was twenty years old, and there 
was no reliable knowledge concerning him. He mani- 
fested no affection or interest in his brothers or sisters, 
lived on what he could get in ways best known to himself, 
and spent his nights away from home. His associates 
were known disreputable persons. 
Before two years had passed, he was serving a sentence WANDERERS 
123 
at the penitentiary for assault; and after his discharge, 
went from bad to worse. When last heard from, he was 
in jail for burglary. 
Second brother, had also been placed in a child-caring 
institution by the Children’s Bureau, in 1908, at that time 
ten years of age; and he also was regarded as a very 
difficult child. 
In view of his “uncontrollable temper and vicious 
habits,” as recorded, it was not deemed advisable to re- 
turn him to his parents on the reestablishment of their 
home, and for the following six years he lived the regular 
routine of institutional life. He reached the Sixth Grade in 
the public school, and could go no higher. 
He was discharged from this Home in 1914, and, almost 
immediately, was sent to work by his father. In July, 
1915, he was accused of stealing, by his employer, and was 
committed to the Reformatory. While he was there, the 
school authorities reported that he was very deceitful. 
He was discharged in December, 1916. A Big Brother, 
secured for him by the Children’s Bureau, placed him in 
one job after another, and finally, in desperation, managed 
to get him into his own firm, where he could watch over 
him himself. The boy did very well here, and the Big 
Brother, thinking a cure had been effected, sent him to 
another town, to work for people who had been acquainted 
with his history, and were willing to give him an oppor- 
tunity to make a man of himself. 
Here he worked for several months, and when his ref- 
ormation seemed certain, he suddenly disappeared with 
some money that had been intrusted to him. In Decem- 
ber, 1918, he was arrested in another city, charged with 
larceny and false pretenses. He was brought to his native 
city, where the crime had been committed during one of 
his secret visits, and sentenced to one year in the House 
of Correction. 
Since his release from the prison, his whereabouts have 
been unknown. 
Third brother, was sent to the institution by the Chil- 
dren’s Bureau, returned to his parents’ home after a short 
stay, and was then sent again to the institution. 
He was a normal, well-behaved child, of whom the rec- 
ords speak rather favorably. After his graduation from 
school, he was sent home, and went to work as an office 124 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
boy. He, alone of all the children, seemed to take an in- 
terest in his mother, and tried to be of some assistance to 
her. He gave his wages to her, and tried to help his sister 
with the housework, when the mother was bedridden. 
However, he was unable to endure the home life for any 
length of time, and went to live elsewhere, occasionally 
sending money to his mother. After her death, he left 
the city, and for more than a year nothing was heard from 
him. 
Then he returned, seemingly a victim of the wanderlust, 
which had him in its toils to such an extent that he wan- 
dered from place to place, and city to city, without the 
ability to adjust himself to one particular place or to any 
one position. He too had no training for any trade or 
occupation, and at present is wandering “from pillar to 
post.” 
Older sister, was six years old when the home was broken 
up, and was put into a private home by the Children’s 
Bureau, till her parents started housekeeping again. 
She was an obstinate, sullen child, very insolent to her 
parents and insulting to anyone who ventured to reprove 
her for her conduct, and insisted on having her own way. 
She did so poorly at school, that she went no further than 
the Fifth Grade. She hated the housework which de- 
volved upon her, and took care of the home during her 
mother’s illness with poor grace and still poorer ability. 
After her mother’s death, being at that time fifteen years 
old, her manners became more ugly and objectionable. 
She dressed flashily, and associated with boys and girls 
of questionable character. The Benevolent Society found 
it necessary to remove her from her home and placed her 
in a working girls’ club. Here she was found unmanage- 
able and extremely audacious, and after two weeks’ stay, 
suddenly disappeared with six dollars which she had 
stolen from the girl inmates. She was found at the home 
of a woman bearing an evil reputation, and was committed 
to a semi-reformatory for girls. 
After a month’s stay, it was deemed politic, for her 
brother’s sake and her own, to transfer her to the Orphan- 
age for a short period, for observation. 
From this institution she was, after a while, sent to a 
private home, and then, of her own volition, returned to 
her father’s and stepmother’s home. She had expressed WANDERERS 
125 
a certain fondness for the first stepmother, and deplored 
her death. For the second one, she entertained contempt 
and hatred, and was quite happy to grasp any opportunity 
to instigate and encourage discord in the home. 
She had become acquainted with her first stepmother’s 
son when still a child, and as she grew older, the friendship 
between the two continued during the periods of the boy’s 
wanderings and vagaries. She had been a frequent visitor 
at the reformatory to which he had been committed, and 
on his discharge from that institution, he spent all the 
time possible with her. 
He too had neither trade nor occupation, and had a 
hard struggle for a livelihood, but the boy and the girl 
fancied themselves in love, and were married, she barely 
seventeen, and he not quite nineteen. The young people 
made their home with the father and stepmother. 
The result was disastrous. In less than a year, it was 
reported that the girl had been deserted by her husband, 
because of a quarrel due to his lack of employment. She 
herself claimed that she was sorely disappointed in him 
because he was lazy and shiftless, and could not keep a job. 
She had previously told the social workers interested in 
the family that her husband had been good and kind to 
her, when in reality, it was subsequently learned, he had 
beaten her and had threatened her life. 
As her father refused to be of any assistance to her, she 
left his home, taking her younger sister with her; and the 
two are at present boarding with a very good family, 
which has agreed to supervise the two girls. She is em- 
ployed at a shop at moderate wages, and the maintenance 
of her sister is being paid for by the Benevolent Society. 
The two seem to be attached to each other. 
There is no definite knowledge regarding the where- 
abouts of the girl’s husband. Her matrimonial experiences 
seem to have sobered her, as there has been no complaint 
concerning her conduct for a rather long period. She ex- 
presses a deep love for the deserter, and though she has 
had no word from him for nearly two years, her faith and 
belief in his innate goodness have not abated. She 
cherishes the hope that he will soon return, and then they 
will live happily ever afterwards. 
Fourth brother, had been quite young at the time of his 
mother’s stay at the hospital, and had been cared for by 126 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
the Children’s Bureau, which had found an excellent pri- 
vate home for him. 
Nothing objectionable had been reported of him while 
in his parent’s home, until, in 1914, at that time eleven 
years of age, his teacher complained of his inattention and 
listlessness, and stated that in her opinion he should be 
classed as mentally deficient. 
The boy was taken to the Psychiatric Clinic, and Dr. 
C , who examined him, reported that he found him 
two years retarded, but not in need of institutional care. 
The following year he was reported to the Children’s 
Bureau as being troublesome and unmanageable. On one 
occasion, it was stated, he remained away from home for 
an entire week, and on his return, refused to answer any 
questions concerning his whereabouts, or disclose any of 
his doings or activities during his absence. 
In June, 1917, when he was fourteen, Miss R , the 
probation officer, reported that he was responsible for the 
court records of several boys in his neighborhood. He 
was said to be the leader of a gang. A few months later, 
his teacher advised that he be committed to a reformatory. 
She said that the boy was disobedient, defiant, a truant, 
and interfered with the work of the other pupils. 
At his mother’s death soon afterward, he was sent to 
another home, which reported him as troublesome, and 
desired to be relieved of his care. He refused to attend 
school and insisted that he be permitted to go to work. 
Finally, he took matters into his own hands, and though 
he had no work permit, secured a position in a leather 
factory, where his behavior was entirely satisfactory to 
his employer. His boarding home mother also had no 
complaint to make regarding his conduct. 
In view of this apparent improvement, Dr. D , the 
psychiatrist, recommended that the boy be issued a wrork 
permit, and be allowed to continue his chosen occupation. 
After a short time, he insisted upon returning to his father’s 
home; and a few months’ later, the boy’s father brought 
the complaint to the Children’s Bureau that the boy 
stayed out late at night, and that he wras beyond control. 
For the next two years, there were repeated investiga- 
tions and adjustments made for the boy, who turned from 
one job to another, quarreled, fought, drank, became 
addicted to shooting craps and smoking cigarettes, until WANDERERS 
127 
he left home one afternoon and completely disappeared. 
His present whereabouts are unknown. 
Youngest sister, was ten years old at the time of the 
mother’s death, and was admitted into a child-caring in- 
stitution. Here she was disobedient and impudent, and in 
revenge for the punishment given her for some fault, ran 
away from the institution to the home of a former neigh- 
bor, after only a few weeks’ stay. 
The woman who had harbored her believed the wild 
tales of the barbarities and cruelties practised at the in- 
stitution, and in turn repeated them to any willing ear. 
The child in this way received much sympathy and atten- 
tion, and preferred to remain at the home of her friend 
instead of returning to the institution. 
As the woman expressed a desire to keep her, she was 
permitted to do so, till she changed her mind a few months 
later, and reported to the Children’s Bureau that the girl 
was too troublesome for her, and had caused much mis- 
chief in her home. At this juncture, the child again took 
matters into her own hands, and returned to her father, 
who had remarried. 
Her school attendance was poor, and she was unwilling 
to cooperate with her stepmother for the benefit of the 
home. She had no affection for any one but her sister. 
When that sister’s misfortunes necessitated a change of 
home and living, the girl insisted on going with her, and 
has since been progressing fairly in her school-work, and 
living normally. 
The Benevolent Society is maintaining and supervising 
her. 
Youngest brother, was nine years old at his mother’s 
death, and had already been reported for staying out late 
at night and being very untruthful. His teacher had com- 
plained that his scholarship and deportment were poor. 
He had been treated for ulcers of the head at the hospital, 
and had frequent illnesses. 
Shortly after his mother’s death, he was placed in a 
child-caring institution. He proceeded to run away several 
times a week, was returned again and again, finally being 
discharged and permitted to live with his father and step- 
mother. The latter soon brought a complaint to the 
Children’s Bureau that the boy was disobedient and un- 
ruly, and that, though he attended school regularly, he 128 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
remained out nights till eleven or twelve o’clock, some- 
times even later. 
As complaints concerning the youngster increased and 
multiplied, and he was brought into court for several 
misdemeanors, the Children’s Bureau sent him to the 
Orphanage in January, 1919. 
Psychiatrist’s Report concerning him. Examined Jan- 
uary 15, 1919: 
Intelligence: Mental capacity 9 years. I. C. .81. 
Character: Basis appears essentially normal, but or- 
ganization inadequate. Various appearances in Ju- 
venile Court for larceny. 
Health: Not unusual. 
Impression: Good institutional case. Should receive 
intensive probational care after release. 
Though eleven years old, he had not passed the First 
Grade, and showed no desire for any regular or wholesome 
routine of life. He objected violently and strenuously 
to any effort to restrain him in his wrongdoings, which 
were numerous and varied, to start with, and needed con- 
stant watching and tactful treatment. 
His brother assisted in his reformation, which occurred 
slowly and gradually; and rewards offered for regular at- 
tendance and good scholarship at school were instrumental 
in influencing him to more studious habits. 
He became interested in the manual-training shops, and 
was attracted by athletics, which helped materially to 
infuse a wholesome interest into his life. While his rather 
deficient intellect prevented him from progressing as 
rapidly as brighter boys, he still held his own and made 
his grade during the year. 
His last outbreak occurred when several members of his 
former gang met him on the way from school, and in- 
veigled him into joining them in an attempt at arson. 
He accepted the tempting offer with alacrity, and the next 
heard from him was several hours’ later, when the office 
was called up by the Police Department, and the Super- 
intendent requested to call at once at a certain station. 
Obeying the hasty summons, the latter discovered that 
the boy and two of his former companions had stationed 
themselves at the entrance to a moving-picture house; 
biding their time, when the door-keeper was busy hand- 
ling the crowTd, and the cashier’s attention was diverted, WANDERERS 
129 
had deliberately poured kerosene about the cage and 
ignited it. There was an immediate blaze. The explana- 
tion was, that the boys had hoped that the cashier, see- 
ing the fire, would become frightened and abandon the 
cage, leaving the boys to help themselves to her cash-box. 
Fortunately, the fire was discovered and quenched before 
it had made sufficient headway to further the nefarious 
scheme. 
In court the next morning, His Honor committed the 
two older reprobates to the Reformatory, and was in- 
clined to pass a similar sentence upon the youngest; but 
the Superintendent prayed for leniency, and upon his 
personal recognizance to safeguard the community from 
further depredations, the youngster was given into his 
custody. 
For a long time thereafter, the lad's movements and 
actions were closely guarded. There followed a period of 
normal conduct, which continued without a pause. 
In September, 1921, it was reported that he was no 
longer considered a problematic case. 
(6) Developmental: 
His father, when asked what manner of baby his son 
had been, looked askance, his brows lifted in amusement 
at the (to him) senseless query, and replied, with a dis- 
dainful shrug of the shoulders, “He’s a bad boy now—and 
if he was a good baby, will that make him good now? ” 
His contempt notwithstanding, he was pressed for some 
information regarding his son’s infancy: and impatiently 
muttered, “How can I remember, when there were so 
many babies all the time?” 
Though no facts could be ascertained concerning the 
first few years of his life, it is definitely known that his 
early childhood had been grossly neglected, and that he 
had grown up like a weed. 
When not quite five years of age, he had been picked 
up in the streets by a passing policeman, who, seeing a 
ragged, filthy little boy, apparently in need of a home, 
took him to the station house. He was kept there for 
several days and, as no anxious parent appeared, he was 
sent to the Children’s Society, which kept him for several 
months. His mother was at the hospital at that time, and 
the father was entirely satisfied to be relieved from the 
burden of his care. 130 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
Returned to his home, in which the daily routine was 
obscenity, quarrels, and violent temper tantrums, he too 
learned to squabble, fight, and swear. Unguarded and 
unprotected, he took to the city’s streets, and finding 
begging a profitable medium by which the good things he 
desired could be attained, he took naturally to the ways 
and manners of the beggar. 
Receiving no affection, he gave none in return to any 
of his family, the members of which were self-centred, and 
paid small heed to the youngster, who was but another one 
in the numerous brood. So it was that the proceeds of 
his begging expeditions were expended solely upon him- 
self and his cronies of the hour. 
His older brothers, who, one after the other, sowed evil 
deeds and reaped harvests of shame and disgrace, had a 
disastrous influence upon him. He became inured to 
drunkenness, gambling, pilfering, and other vices, while 
still but a child; and it seemed quite natural for him to 
follow in the path his elders had walked before him. 
Finding the school not as attractive to him as his street 
haunts, he deserted the former in favor of the latter. 
When remonstrated with, he retorted with the language 
that was indeed his “mother tongue.” 
Living as he saw his parents live, in filth and human 
wretchedness; existing as best he knew how, from the 
results attained by begging and pilfering, he was ready to 
put his foot forward on his brothers’ path, when the 
Orphanage opened its doors to him. 
(c) Habits and Interests: 
Liked to be waited upon, and would lean back indo- 
lently in his chair, and bully the younger boys to fetch and 
carry for him. 
Hated cleanliness, and made every possible effort, and 
concocted every imaginable scheme, to avoid soap and 
water. 
Was inclined to be miserly, and to hide, for personal use 
only, whatever money came into his possession, or that 
which he thought might offer an appeal to another boy. 
Not at all affected by pain or suffering. Could stand 
calmly by and see tears, or listen to cries, with indifference. 
Showed a marked interest in the ways and means by 
which men have become rich. Very anxious to be a suc- 
cessful business man, when he grew up. WANDERERS 
131 
Not at all interested in books, but absorbed in baseball, 
and desirous of becoming a future great baseball player. 
Displayed a keen appreciation of athletics in general, 
and was very proud of his prowess as a swimmer, of which 
he boasted constantly. 
Was always anxious to please the girls and show that 
he was “a good fellow.” 
(d) Home Conditions: 
In the Report of the Benevolent Society appears the 
following note concerning the conditions existing in the 
home, during the early formative years of the boy’s life: 
“The home was very poorly kept. At one time, the 
mother, two of the boys, and the two girls slept in one 
room, which had no ventilation, and had insufficient beds.” 
With no personal privacy, and no regard for the decen- 
cies of life, it was inevitable that the tragic environment 
should dull the heart and mind of the boy, and influence 
him to abide in the sordidness and uncleanliness with 
which he had been surrounded since babyhood. 
After the mother’s death, the element of merciless 
cruelty introduced by the father, when he ordered his 
second wife’s young, dependent son from the home, and 
then followed the same course with his own children, 
could not but inculcate and encourage the unhappy 
qualities of meanness and brutality. 
His older brothers often brought their corrupt associates 
to the house, which already, in itself, was sufficiently 
enveloped with evil, and the boy, at an early age, was in- 
troduced to drinking, smoking, and shooting craps. Very 
frequently, while the father was away at some saloon, the 
boys would be up to a late hour at night, shaking dice, 
and laying their plans for their wrongdoings. The boy 
eagerly watched and listened, and soon they became to 
him the “heroes” whom he desired to emulate. Not one 
healthy influence in the darkness and misery that had been 
his, in his entire short life! 
(e) Mental Interests: 
Shooting craps. 
Playing baseball. 
Speculating on the best business methods for money- 
making. 132 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
The Treatment 
By dint of much coaxing, persuasion, and promises, the worker 
succeeded in inducing the grandmother, with whom the boy had 
taken refuge, to advise him to give the Orphanage a trial. Very 
unwillingly went the boy, informing his cautious escort, who had 
her arm linked through his, that she “needn’t think I’m gwan 
ter stick there, if I don’t like that guy, ’cause I ain’t.” 
“But you are going to like him,” persuasively promised the 
worker, strengthening her hold. 
“Aw, yer said the same thing about that other guy,” retorted 
the youngster, tugging at her arm, “and I did n’t like him.” 
“This one is different — you will like him,” desperately proph- 
esied the undaunted escort. 
“If I don’t, yer ken’t catch me one minute there; wait yer see!” 
he threatened. 
As he had absconded from the child-caring institution in which 
he had been placed previously, after only two hours’ stay, and 
could not then be located for more than two weeks, it was no idle 
threat he made. 
“You just wait and see how you’ll like the place and everybody 
there,” suggested the worker gently. 
But he had his own thoughts on the subject, and was not to be 
influenced; he just awaited a favorable opportunity for action, 
and it came as they turned the corner. As the worker, thinking 
that her promises and assurances were having the desired effect, 
relaxed her determined hold for a second, he tore his arm from 
hers, and disappeared before her very eyes. The rest of the day 
was spent in a fruitless effort to locate him, and also the whole of 
the next day. 
Finally, the worker, confronted by the Probation Officer, who 
had been entrusted with the ruling of the Court that the boy be 
given proper disposition by the Children’s Bureau, or be sent to 
the Reformatory, begged for a further extension of time in which 
to locate her slippery charge. Then she flew in desperation to 
the head of the Big Brother League, and implored his aid in the 
matter. 
This gentleman had had frequent interviews with the boy, and 
had stated that the youngster had excellent qualities, which, 
though held in abeyance at present, might, under proper influences, 
be developed for his ultimate salvation. He had been instrumental 
in prevailing upon the Bureau to give the boy a trial at the Orphan- 
age, and now he readily agreed to assist in the search. WANDERERS 
133 
After two more days spent in hunting the known favorite haunts 
of the boy, he was at last located at his grandmother's home, 
where, weary and exhausted, he had just come for refreshment and 
recuperation. He greeted his friend, the Big Brother leader, 
surlily, and informed him of his intention not to go to the 
Orphanage. 
The other spent a half-hour in argument and appeal, and at the 
end of the hour, presented himself at the office of the Orphanage, 
very ill at ease, despite his usual poise and the dignity of his years, 
and seemed unable to give expression to the special business that 
had evidently brought him at that particular hour. 
He had diplomatically made an attempt to come to the root of 
the matter troubling his mind, but finding that tact could not 
cover a request that must be tactless, brought out with some 
difficulty: “That rascal refuses to come here, until the Superin- 
tendent has come to his home and permitted himself to be sized 
up and judged. If you impress him favorably, he ’ll go with you. 
Otherwise, he won’t. Will you come?” 
“Yes,” was the answer. 
It was important to make the visit quite early in the morning, 
as the boy was accustomed to leave the house right after his 
breakfast, and was gone for the rest of the day, and perhaps for 
the night. Escorted by the Big Brother guide, it was not quite 
seven o’clock in the morning, when the Superintendent knocked 
at the door of the very poor dwelling in which the grandmother 
had her home. The poor old woman, disheveled and unkempt, 
was hobbling about the small room and laboriously serving her 
grandson with rolls and milk, while he, already fully dressed in his 
rags, was impatiently tapping the table with his fist. 
The woman, abashed and embarrassed at sight of her early 
visitors, courtesied and apologized profusely, while her grandson, 
non-committal, stared suspiciously from one to the other of the 
unwelcome guests. 
“That’s the guy?” he questioned, his thick, square forefinger 
pointing to the person whom he was “sizing up” with keen, shrewd 
eyes. 
“This is the guy, all right; what do you think of him?” in- 
quired the “guy” in question. 
He was evidently reserving his opinion for a later moment. 
“Yer know I’m a bad ’un?” he demanded. 
“Well? What of that?” 
“Donchu care?” in very great surprise. 
“ Why should I? It’s not the measles; nobody can catch it from 
you,” he was informed, quite cheerfully. 134 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
“What fer do yer want me to come to yer place?” he asked, his 
brows knit in suspicion and distrust. 
“Did n’t specially ask for you at all. It’s simply my business 
to take boys who are sent to the Home.” 
“U-u-u-um!” He was thinking. “Do yer beat boys?” he 
queried, suddenly. 
“No! I like them too well to beat them.” 
“Why do yer like ’em?” with a supercilious glance from his 
steady, black eyes. 
“Because I was a boy once myself, and remember how a boy 
feels.” 
“Aw,” very eagerly, he burst out, “was yer a bad ’un too?” 
His grimness relaxed a bit in the laugh his question called 
forth; but he was persistent. “Was yer too a bad boy?” He in- 
sisted upon an answer. 
“Don’t suppose I was altogether an angel. Boys usually 
are n’t, you know,” he was told. 
“Aw right!” he responded irrelevantly, “Guess I’ll go with yer, 
and try it out.” 
He went, and on the way, he agreed to bind himself by a promise 
that, for a whole week, he would make no attempt to run away in 
case he “did n’t like it,” but would instead bear himself peacefully 
and patiently for that length of time, and then step into the office 
and state his intentions. If he did like the place, he was to remain 
indefinitely; if not, he was to be permitted to return to his grand- 
mother. 
The first few days were very trying to him. He was restless, ill 
at ease, and walked to and fro in the yard, like a caged animal; 
but he kept his word and made no attempt to escape. He became 
immediately interested in the Scout and athletic activities, and 
hearing that there was to be a baseball meet, asked permission to 
be allowed to take part. “I’m some ball-player, I am, believe 
me,” he remarked. “Yer just watch me give it to ’em.” 
The boys, delighted with a possible asset for their team, wel- 
comed him with open arms, and when they witnessed his really 
excellent batting, hailed him as a prize beyond price. Their 
adulation pleased him immensely, and he became interested at 
once in their games and projects. The Scouts, their uniforms, 
activities, hikes, and good times, were so enticing to him that, 
before the week was up, he strode into the office and announced, 
“I want ter be a Scout, so I’ll stay here fer good.” 
“Likely to change your mind if things don’t suit you as well as 
you think they will?” WANDERERS 
135 
“Yes,” very frankly and laconically. 
“Very well. But do you promise that you will first step into 
the office and say you are ready to leave?” 
His mouth closed in a grim line. Such an intention had not 
been in his mind, when he stated his decision, and the idea of not 
being a free agent did not quite appeal to him. He stood silent, 
his brows meeting in a heavy frown from the perplexity of his con- 
fused thoughts. 
“Will you promise not to leave the Home without permission?” 
The insistent query further disquieted him. “Lemme think it 
over couple of days and tell yer?” he asked. 
“Of course; take your time! Think it over carefully, because 
once you make the promise, it’s for good, you know.” 
He nodded his head, and without another word, walked out of 
the office, apparently absorbed in deep thought. Now and then, 
during the rest of that day, he was to be observed sitting unusually 
inactive and engrossed, as if some weighty problem was burdening 
his mind and rendering his body lethargic. 
Though not a Scout, special permission was accorded him the 
next day to join in a long anticipated Scout Rally; and it was sug- 
gested to him to go into training for the baseball meet shortly to 
be held between the Home’s baseball team and that of a nearby 
school. He was delighted to participate in the first, and eagerly 
grasped at the opportunity to take part in the second. He had 
been tentatively admitted to school, in a very low grade, and 
nothing was said to him about school-work or the desirability of 
entering any of the vocational classes in the Home. He was 
simply under constant supervision, and in view of his interest in 
things athletic, stress was laid upon the sports, games, and Scout 
activities open to the boys of the Home. 
In his borrowed baseball togs, streaming with perspiration, and 
panting from his exertion in practising for the coming game, he 
came into the office punctually at the time designated, and stated: 
“If yer likes me, guess I like yer.” 
“That means that you have decided to stay here for good, and 
will not leave without permission? ” he was asked. 
“Sure thing,” he responded, and nonchalantly walked out of the 
office. 
School-work was now seriously broached to him. He preferred 
to qualify himself for the Scout tests, which he desired to pass as 
speedily as possible. He was given very firmly to understand that, 
as his school-work progressed, so would his athletic activities be 
encouraged. With very poor grace he permitted himself to be 136 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
influenced to regular school attendance, and would work off his 
spleen in the late afternoons by playing baseball in the yard, or 
attending the manual-training classes, in which he manifested a 
keen interest. 
At the end of six months, he had become assimilated to the 
routine of work and play in the institution, and was improving 
rapidly at school. He had gotten into many scrapes and difficulties 
with his supervisors and teachers, but none of them were more 
serious than to merit a stern reproof at the office and the depriva- 
tion of some anticipated pleasure. He would sulk and vengefully 
mutter indistinct sentences under his breath; but always he 
apologized and was ready to make friendly overtures. 
One evening, he marched into the office sullenly, an open letter 
in his hand, his brows knit and his lips puckered. “I got this here 
thing this morning,’’ he began, his thumb tapping the paper in 
his hand, “an’ I got to speak to you about her.” 
His six months’ schooling had changed his “yer” to “you.” 
“Go right ahead!” he was encouraged. 
“She writes me that from the Reformatory, where they sent her,” 
he clenched his fist as he spoke, “and she don’t like it there. I 
want her to come here.” 
Having made his astounding request, he sat down on the nearest 
chair, without invitation, to await further developments. 
“First, who is the ‘she’?” 
“My sister,” he replied shortly. 
The case was immediately recalled as one which the Children’s 
Bureau had deemed best suited to the Reformatory, by reason of 
its many delinquencies, and the fact that the girl was past sixteen 
years of age. 
“Why do you want her here?” 
“Because she don’t like it in the Reformatory,” he replied 
coolly, “and I don’t think it is a nice place for a girl.” 
“Is it a nice place for a boy?” 
He blushed, and stammered, “S’pose not — but it’s worser for 
girls.” 
“How do you know?” 
“Well,” he hesitated a moment, and then continued quickly, 
“’cause it did n’t do none of my brothers good, an’ it’s not goin’ 
to do her no good — an’ it’s a whole lot worser for girls to be bad 
than boys — ’cause, well, you see, girls can’t be no hoboes like 
boys. They got to have a home.” 
To strengthen his argument, he submitted, as proof, the pitiful 
letter of the girl, which appealed to him to arrange matters with WANDERERS 
137 
the old grandmother so that the writer might have a place to run 
away to from the Reformatory. “You know I could n’t run away 
like J , A , B , and S , ’cause I’m a girl, and I’ll 
be caught quick; but I got to have a home pretty quick, or I’ll 
do something terrible,” ended the note. 
He was promised that the matter would receive consideration, 
arid nodding his head in satisfaction, he remarked, “Guess this is 
a better home for her than that old woman’s, ain’t it?” and passed 
out, contented that he had performed his self-imposed mission. 
The letter and its writer were duly discussed at the next meet- 
ing of the Children’s Bureau; and after investigation had ascer- 
tained the fact that the girl was very unhappy, it was decided to 
permit her to stay at the Orphanage temporarily, till a suitable 
private home should be secured for her. 
The boy was delighted with the success of his manoeuvre, and 
showed his appreciation by appearing in the office the day after 
his sister had arrived at the Orphanage, and announcing, “Guess 
I’m all right now, and I’m going to be better. I’m going to make 
my sister behave herself, and I guess I can help you out with one 
of them new bad eggs too.” 
His offer was remembered some time later, when his youngest 
brother, quite a serious “problem,” was admitted to the institu- 
tion, and was put in charge of the older brother, who was now 
a full-fledged monitor, and had rendered service more than once 
with some incorrigible little tacker. The boy had been quite 
anxious to get his little brother, who had managed to get quite a 
big Juvenile Court record, into the Orphanage, and had promised 
to guide and guard him. 
He felt the responsibility of curbing the smaller boy’s delin- 
quencies, which were many and varied. Frequently, he would 
come into the office, dragging his brother after him, and appeal 
for assistance and advice in controlling him. “It’s no use,” he 
would state desperately, “he’s in bad, and I can’t do nothing with 
him.” 
The task sobered him, and his efforts for the welfare of the 
youngster had an excellent tonic effect upon him. It had been 
suggested to him that being an example for his brother to follow 
might induce the younger boy to reform his ways, and he tried 
desperately hard to make his conduct beyond reproach. As he 
became accustomed to regular school attendance, he learned to 
apply himself to his studies, and made rapid progress. He averaged 
two grades a year, and attained the higher grades in less than two 
years. 138 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
The manual-training teacher found him an apt pupil, and en- 
couraged him to become his assistant in teaching the younger 
boys; he also became a Scout and was the “bat” of the baseball 
team. As his small brother gradually improved, he appeared 
happier and more contented, and his own expression, “Guess 
I’m all right now!” might well have been applied to him. He was 
deemed a most hopeful and promising case, when oncoming puberty 
played havoc with his hitherto harmless and inane liking for girls, 
and his career of rectitude received a sudden setback that was 
nearly fatal. 
A complaint was brought to the office by one of the girls’ super- 
visors who stated that for several nights she had distinctly seen 
a slight figure hovering in the doorway between the girls’ dormi- 
tories, about the time that the older boys retired for the night. 
Always at her approach the figure noiselessly disappeared, and 
she had no inkling as to who or what it might be. 
Supervisors were immediately installed in the dormitories for 
the night, and the night watchman requested to be on the look- 
out. The figure did not return then, according to report; but the 
watchman came one morning with a story to the effect that he had 
heard the light patter of footsteps in the girls’ dormitories at a 
late hour, and upon investigation, discovered a white-clad object 
moving cautiously about. At sight of him, the intruder silently 
flew out of the door at the other end of the room, and ran nimbly 
up the stairs to the next floor, where the boys’ dormitories were 
located. He stated that he had without hesitation run after the 
apparition, but that it had disappeared like a wraith, and must 
have been, according to his light, which was that of several cen- 
turies past, the ghost of a departed ancestor coming to visit a 
bereaved orphan. 
The watchman’s conception of the visitation not being accepted, 
the guard was tripled the following night, but no apparition re- 
warded the vigil. The next night, one of the watchers claimed to 
have seen a shadow moving down the banisters, which, at a stir 
from her, immediately vanished upstairs. Not one of the girls 
in either dormitory had any knowledge of the intrusion, and all 
were unaware of the watchers in their midst, every precaution 
being taken to keep such knowledge from them. At the end of a 
week’s ceaseless vigilance, the culprit walked right into the Ma- 
tron’s arms, the Superintendent was summoned, and, late though 
the hour was, a lengthy conference followed. 
The boy sobbed out a contrite confession, that he had prowled 
about in the dormitories in the hope that some girl might be willing WANDERERS 
139 
to accept his advances. He could offer no explanation beyond 
stating that he could n’t help it, and was very sorry. 
He had attended the special small gatherings of the older boys, 
weekly, in the office, when lectures were given on sex-hygiene; but 
now that knowledge was supplemented by very clear and frank 
information regarding sexual matters. The lack of decency and 
morality in his conduct was forcefully presented to him. He was 
heartbroken, and pleaded to be given another chance in the in- 
stitution, appalled at the chastisement to which his contemplated 
act entitled him. During the interview, efforts were made for the 
first time to show him how his brothers’ iniquities had ruined their 
lives, and how much greater than theirs were his advantages, and 
opportunities to lead a worthy and respected life. He finally left 
the office, terror-stricken, crestfallen, and imploring “Just one 
more chance; please, just one chance!” 
Ordinarily, a boy guilty of such a misdemeanor would be con- 
sidered a menace to an institution, and be sent at once to a refor- 
matory, to which some of the Board members felt that he should 
be consigned summarily; but in view of the chaos such a proce- 
dure would undoubtedly cause in the boy’s awakening soul, the 
matter was carefully weighed and considered. It was recognized 
that he had reached a critical juncture in his development, and 
that his welfare depended chiefly upon the action to be taken. 
It was finally agreed to give him the chance he implored. He 
was called into the office and given an insight into the risk taken 
with him, and all that his subsequent conduct meant to those so 
intensely interested in him, that they were prepared to do battle 
for his sake. He listened attentively, and pressing the hand ex- 
tended to him, said earnestly, “I swear by my life that I will 
never in my life forget this. I swear that you will never never, be 
sorry for this chance.” 
As he was leaving, he turned for a moment, and said in a broken 
tone, “I wish somebody had given my brothers a chance too”; 
then he left, sobbing bitterly. 
After several months had passed, no regrets were entertained, 
even by those who had thundered against his continued presence 
in the Orphanage, for the chance — or, better, risk — that had 
been taken with him. It seemed that he had passed the turning- 
point, or, perhaps, crisis, of his adolescent life, and he became sober, 
industrious, and ambitious. He decided to learn printing, with 
the view of adopting it as his future vocation in life. 
He was now in the Eighth Grade at school, and having made 
every effort to qualify, became the monitor of a younger group of 140 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
boys, to whom he painstakingly performed his duty. He was in- 
terested in the children’s activities, and conscientiously tried to 
make “his boys” the best behaved and cleanest group in the 
Home. 
In return, the small youngsters admired and loved him, and the 
older boys regarded him as a most worthy member of their large 
family. 
The Result 
From the Benevolent Society’s Records: 
“In 1920, Frank L completed the Eighth Grade and went 
to work. He is the first and only one of his family to be a school 
graduate, and is reported as doing very well and giving satisfaction 
to his employers. 
“He was discharged from the Home, where he had been kept 
till he had qualified at his work as a printer, in July, 1921, and has 
been placed in a private home.” 
From letter dated May 29, 1922: 
“ I am very glad to comply with your request to give you a report 
of Frank L- . The boy was discharged from the Orphanage 
July, 1921, and placed in a boarding home. We received splendid 
reports of him; he has had but one job and is still employed at the 
printing establishment of H G . He comes home at an 
early hour, and conducts himself very satisfactorily. 
Yours very sincerely, 
L. O. G., 
Executive Secretary, Children’s Bureau CASE C 
ISIDORE S , “A KNIGHT OF THE STREETS” 
Entered December 5, 1918. Age 9 years 
The Peoblem 
1. Delinquency 
(а) Afflicted with Wanderlust to the nth power. Bunking 
out for weeks at a time. 
(б) Chronic truancy. 
(c) Selling newspapers without a license. 
2. The School 
(a) Very bright, yet three years in the First Grade. 
(b) Constant truant; “hooked” school four days out of five. 
(c) Not interested in any study. 
(d) Very disorderly and disobedient; inciting schoolmates to 
disorder and rebellion. 
3. Home 
(а) Petty pilfering only when completely “broke.” 
(б) Disobedient and unmanageable. 
(c) Very seldom remained at home for more than two days 
in succession. 
4. Society 
(а) Refused to recognize any authority. 
(б) Would steal from fruit-stands and lunch-rooms when 
hungry. 
(c) Prided himself on “belonging to a gang,” but was not 
known to engage in any juvenile delinquencies. 
(d) Started his wandering at the age of five, and was frequently 
picked up in the streets by policemen and taken to the 
police station, where he was kept till called for by his 
mother. Passed a good part of his very early childhood in 
police stations. 
1. Physical 
(а) Attractive, blond child; in appearance no older than seven 
years. 
(б) Very frail and thin. Ten pounds underweight. 
(c) Curly hair in tiny ringlets over his small round head. 
The Analysis 
141 142 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
(<d) Skin of face and hands cut and torn, and body bruised with 
black-and-blue marks. 
(e) Many teeth missing and others badly decayed. 
(/) Hands scarred, and covered with many bruises; nails 
broken. Enuresis. 
2. Mental 
(а) Examination — following report in the Children’s Bureau: 
“Referred, 9-9-18, at the age of nine, with the complaint 
of truancy. 
“Diagnosis: Bright boy, with no interests, disgusted 
with his circumstances. 
“Social adjustment poor. 
“Binet-Simon, 9 plus. 
“Later examination, October, 1918, Dr. D reported 
as follows: 
“ ‘ The boy is mentally above normal, almost to the 
point of precocity. He may develop definite delin- 
quent tendencies. Strongly recommend immediate 
institutional care.’ ” 
(б) Personality Traits: 
Extremely careless and slovenly in attire and habits. 
Very poor eater, and very fussy about food. Would 
rather go without eating than eat anything he did not like. 
Extremely obstinate, and determined to have his own 
way. 
Very poor sleeper. Often troubled with insomnia. 
Frequent nervous jerks and movements of hands or feet 
when angry or excited. 
Very impulsive; able to change from a frown to a smile, 
or vice versa, without a moment’s notice. 
Warm-hearted, but displaying no inclination for affec- 
tion. 
3. Social 
(а) Heredity: 
Parentage unknown. 
(б) Developmental: 
The wife of a small shop-keeper, who for years had be- 
wailed her childless lot to friends and neighbors, imagined 
she heard the crying of a baby at her door, in the dead of 
night, and rose to investigate. 
It was some time in February, a bitterly cold night. On 
opening her door, the woman nearly fell over a small WANDERERS 
143 
clothes-basket, in which lay a tiny baby, crying lustily. 
It was a male infant, but a few days old, and was wrapped 
in blankets. There were no means of identification, but the 
woman neither wanted nor sought any. She and her hus- 
band legally adopted the child, and the woman gave to him 
all a mother’s care and devotion. He was a strong, sturdy 
baby, and had few ailments during infancy. 
The boy was three years old when his foster-father died, 
and, two years later, his foster-mother married again. Her 
second husband was a widower who had five children by 
his first wife. 
The man was elderly, asthmatic, and unable to work. 
His three daughters supported the family, and the two 
younger boys were both cardiac cases and had been wards 
of a child-caring institution for several years after their 
mother’s death. Both of them had been diagnosed as high- 
grade morons. From the first, the father resented the addi- 
tion of the boy to his family, claiming that, as he was a 
foundling, he was state property. 
The mother’s enmity was aroused by his stand, and 
while she redoubled her affection and devotion to the boy, 
hoping to atone for the stepfather’s neglect, discord and 
unhappiness became the tenants of the home. It was at 
this period that the boy, leaving the house in a fit of child- 
ish rage over some reprimand that had been given him by 
the man, wandered away and stayed out all night. He was 
picked up by the police and found in a station house the 
next day by the frantic mother. 
His experience evidently opened hitherto undiscovered 
delights to him, as his wanderings began right after that 
occurrence, and he now regularly disappeared several times 
a week from his home. His mother had started him in the 
kindergarten, but he absolutely refused to attend, prefer- 
ring, extremely young as he was, to wander through the 
streets. The poor woman was sorely tried, on the one 
hand by the refractory child, and on the other by an indig- 
nant husband, who objected to the child’s presence in his 
house. To add to her woes, the illness which had been 
troubling her for some time had been diagnosed by several 
physicians as incipient tuberculosis. 
Believing that she was on the verge of death, the poor 
creature hastened to the Children’s Bureau to arrange for 
the boy’s welfare. In view of the fact that the child was a 144 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
problem at home, it was suggested to her to place him in 
a child-caring institution. To this she reluctantly con- 
sented, several months later, when her efforts to adjust 
matters for herself had totally failed. 
In October, 1915, at the age of six, the boy was admitted 
to the institution; but his wanderings continued without 
any abatement. At the end of a year, the Superintendent, 
claiming that he had exhausted all his resources for the 
boy’s improvement, without effect, prayed that the young- 
ster be sent to a reformatory. But in view of the extreme 
youth of the small culprit, he was sent to a boarding home 
instead. 
He wandered away constantly from this home also, and 
was then placed in a semi-disciplinary school, from which 
he continued his wanderings, disappearing for weeks at a 
time. He then appealed to his mother to take him from the 
institution, promising to reform his customs and ways. 
The good woman eagerly grasped at the possibility of his 
reformation, and secured his discharge. In a short time, 
his wandering spirit again asserted itself, and he alternately 
appeared at and disappeared from home. 
Shortly before his presumptive ninth birthday, he was 
picked up in the streets, at midnight, by a benevolent 
gentleman of substantial means, whose pity he aroused by 
a very sad “hard-luck” story. Impressed with the appear- 
ance of the boy and by the unfortunate adventures related 
to him, the would-be benefactor took the lad to his home 
and cared for him for several weeks. At the end of that 
time, having grown attached to the youngster, he decided 
to adopt him legally, and applied to the Child Labor Bu- 
reau for advice in the matter. It was suggested to him to 
seek information in the Juvenile Court, where a record of 
the boy was on file. In the Court, the gentleman was 
informed that the boy had a home, to which he must 
return. 
Later, on the advice of the psychiatrist who had ex- 
amined him, the boy was admitted into the Orphanage. 
(c) Habits and Interests: 
Very fond of the “movies,” and frequently would be 
found in his favorite moving-picture houses. Was able to 
describe at length almost every important feature in the 
lives and careers of the movie stars he most admired. Was 
also greatly interested in the newspaper columns dealing WANDERERS 
145 
with the movie heroes and heroines, and frequently wrote 
to the dailies, asking questions concerning them. 
Very loving to animals. Would care for them most 
tenderly; but when the Wanderlust urge attacked him, he 
deserted them, without care or thought for their well-being. 
Seemed extremely unhappy when reproached for wrong- 
doing, and would permit himself neither rest nor consola- 
tion till sure of a full pardon. Then would quite cheerfully 
resume his life at the point where he had left it, and 
placidly continue his existence, till the next outbreak. 
Displayed but a passive interest in boys’ games and 
pursuits, but was very eager to hear, not read for himself, 
stories of adventure and the outdoors. 
{(d) Home Conditions: 
The home which had cradled his infancy had undoubt- 
edly surrounded him with the love and care of devoted 
parents. In the home of the mother’s second marriage, he 
confronted troublous times, it is true, but never was the 
affection and devotion of the woman, who had reared him, 
withdrawn from him. 
While the home was very modest in its appointments, 
the neighborhood, though poor, was good and honest, and 
actual want never existed in it. At sundry times, the Chari- 
ties assisted the family with medical care and attention, 
and also provided some of the necessities prescribed for the 
tubercular mother; but the boy’s needs had always been 
carefully supplied. 
He either could not or would not encourage a friendly 
attitude toward his mother’s stepchildren, and found none 
of the average boy’s interests and pleasures in the home. 
In the institutions to which he had been sent, he was 
unable or unwilling to adapt himself, and was not a whit 
influenced either by the large or small home. He deter- 
minedly followed the bent of his mind, wherever he was 
placed. 
(e) Mental Interests: 
None. 
The Treatment 
The mother herself brought the boy to the Orphanage. Trailing 
after him, her hands loaded with various packages of different sizes 
containing anything and everything, from candy to a toy menag- 
erie, she deposited her bundles with marked relief on a chair, and 146 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
breathed heavily as if exhausted. She was small, very frail in ap- 
pearance, and coughed incessantly. Her clothes were neat, but of 
very poor material and extremely threadbare. In marked contrast 
appeared the boy, who, though very thin, was bright-eyed, eager, 
and evidently very much alive. He was dressed in a “ Buster 
Brown” velvet suit, its spotlessness loudly proclaiming its newness, 
and both his arms and hands were employed in holding onto an 
immense ball and a huge bag of marbles, and at the same time pro- 
pelling a wooden horse on wheels. 
“Them’s all my things; nobody’s gwan to get ’em,” he an- 
nounced by way of greeting. 
“Issy, darling!” admonished the woman warningly, her pale 
cheeks flushing painfully. Then she turned quickly from him, 
clasped her hands in sheer nervousness, and pleaded: “Please be 
good to him and excuse him this time. He’s only a little boy and 
not old enough to have much sense yet.” 
The boy lifted his head immediately from his calm contempla- 
tion of his many possessions, scowled angrily at her, and pro- 
claimed, “That’s a big lie! I’ma big boy an’ I have too got sense, 
and don’t cher go an’ tell ’im I ain’t.” 
The woman looked distressed and unhappy. “I said that be- 
cause you were a bad boy — sometimes — you know, darling,” 
she faltered, in an evident attempt to pacify him. “If you ’ll be a 
good boy,” she continued, caressing his curly head with her piti- 
fully thin fingers, “and be a good little gentleman and not run away 
any more, I ’ll bring you anything you want.” 
“Aw right!” promptly responded the youngster. “I want a 
watch an’ chain.” Then, as an afterthought, he added, hastily, 
“Not tin — I want ’em gold — When yuh gwan ter bring ’em?” 
“Watches and chains are not used to bribe boys here to be good. 
They stay here of their own free will and behave themselves be- 
cause they find out that it’s lots more fun to do good things than 
bad ones,” both of them were informed. 
“Guess they must be big fools,” retorted the small lad, wrinkling 
up his nose in contempt of the “fools.” 
“O Issy, darling!” cried the mother, aghast at his audacity. 
“He does n’t mean anything like that — honest, he does n’t know 
how to say what he means,” she timidly ventured in extenuation. 
“I do too,” stoutly maintained the boy. 
The woman put her finger to her Kps in warning. “Sh—h—h! ” 
she pleaded, visibly trembling in her distress. 
He tossed his head, not at all daunted. He looked fearlessly and 
expectantly at the Superintendent, as if challenging an anticipated WANDERERS 
147 
reproof. As none was forthcoming, he seemed rather amazed at the 
silence which confronted him, and finally gave voice to his surprise. 
“Mister, ain’t yuh ’fraid of bad boys?” he queried. 
“Not one bit, son!” 
His lips opened slightly. “What’s yuh doin’ to ’em?” he 
queried, more in curiosity than fear. 
“You ’ll soon see for yourself.” 
“Chee! I ain’t ’fraid,” he asserted indifferently, heedless of the 
“Issy darling!” that was uttered several times in warning. 
His supervisor was then summoned, and without further com- 
ment to him, he was turned over to his new guardian. Without 
reluctance, he prepared to follow his guide, collecting most de- 
liberately as many of his treasures as he could carry, and motioning 
with his head toward the chair where his mother had deposited her 
packages, said quite naturally to his escort, “Yuh can take them 
things for me.” 
“You may have those things later yourself, when you come to 
the office,” he was informed. 
He looked up suspiciously, seemed to be thinking, and then re- 
sponded, “Aw right, mister.” Turning to the woman, he mur- 
mured coolly, “Good-bye, mom!” 
The mother rose and clasped him and his bundles close to her 
heart. As he wriggled out of her embrace, she fumbled in her 
shabby purse, and extracting several coins, silently held them out 
to him. 
“Put ’em in me pocket,” advised the boy laconically, his hands 
being too full for even such an addition to his possessions. 
She did as requested, kissed him passionately, and pleaded 
gently, “Darling, please be good! Be a good boy and don’t run 
away from here! They ’ll be good to you.” 
He vouchsafed no reply to her entreaties, accepted her embraces 
with a marked air of boredom, and passively permitted himself to 
be led away by his supervisor, without further notice of the woman, 
whose eyes followed him till the door had closed after him. Then 
she gave way to her grief and sobbed bitterly. 
“He is all I have in the world,” she moaned. “If his father had 
lived, he would never have taken to the streets in the first place. 
This man don’t care for him — so what could the poor baby do, 
but run away? Believe me, it’s not his fault, because his heart is 
good and kind — I know him well! — You ’ll soon see what a fine 
boy he is.” 
She waited a moment in suspense, as if fearing a denial; but 
finding instead that her opinion concerning the youngster was not 148 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
gainsaid, she opened her heart and gave her confidences freely. It 
seemed as if she were trying to relieve herself from the burdens that 
weighed upon her soul. 
Finally, from the bosom of her gown, she carefully drew forth 
a fifty-dollar Liberty bond, and held it out, saying huskily, “For 
him.’7 
“Presented to him by friends?” 
She shook her head sadly and negatively, her eyes full of tears. 
“I am the only friend he has,” she said, quietly. 
As it was known that, during the past year, the Consumptives’ 
Aid Organization had been assisting her, the appearance of the 
bond naturally prompted the question, “What sacrifice did you 
make to procure the bond for him?” 
“Well,” — she hesitated, and then bravely continued, — “you 
see how it is — I am going to die soon anyway.” Here followed a 
violent paroxysm of coughing. “And I got to provide for him. My 
husband is awfully poor; I can’t hide a penny from the house ex- 
penses. So — please don’t say anything to the Society — promise 
me you won’t!” 
The promise given, she continued: “You know the doctors want 
me to have lots of milk and eggs, and the Society gives me money 
for that — so, I did n’t buy the food, but bought the bond for the 
boy instead.” 
She seemed amazed that her action was condemned instead of 
commended, as she evidently had expected. “ But I am his mother,” 
she insisted; “Who will provide for his education and his future, 
if I don’t?” 
She was assured that the Orphanage would give to the boy every 
possible advantage and opportunity, and that he would not lack 
friends. A verbal understanding was made that the bond should 
be kept for the boy, only on condition that in the future she ap- 
propriated the funds sent her for her own sustenance and benefit. 
But at the last moment she sought to palliate the terms of the 
agreement. 
“But it’s a waste of the money,” she pleaded in defense of her 
project; “the doctor told me that I could n’t five longer than six 
months at the most.” 
“Possibly he ’ll change his mind if you ’ll follow his instructions 
and use the money in taking care of yourself,” was the suggestion 
made to her. 
But she shook her head sadly and slowly brushed the tears from 
her eyes. “I can’t help it; I must think of him before myself,” she 
said. “He is just starting his life, and I am finished.” WANDERERS 
149 
However, before she left, she had made a definite promise to 
expend the money, sent her weekly by the organization interested 
in her welfare, for the purposes intended, and seemed more at ease 
regarding the boy. 
Later, the boy presented himself at the office to claim his pos- 
sessions and renew the acquaintance made earlier. 
His attitude was quite friendly, and he smiled as he entered. 
“Yuh know, I like this place/’ he confided. 
“Why?” 
“Oh, ’cause there’s lots of boys and they got lots of fun; but I 
like yer dog best of all,” he stated frankly. 
“How should you like to have a dog of your own here?” 
“Oh, chee! kin I?” He jumped in the air in excited delight. 
“Yes, if you have good reports from your supervisor and from 
school for two weeks,” he was told. 
His expression changed most lugubriously at once. He raised his 
hand as if to ward off a blow. 
“But I hate school,” he vehemently declared. 
“Why?” 
“’Cause I don’t like it,” was the very definite answer. 
“What do you like?” 
“Oh, lots of things!” in very evident surprise. 
“What, for instance?” 
“Peanuts, an’ taffy, an’ the circus, an’ movies, an’ live bunnies, 
an’ pigeons, an’ a little dog, an’ —.” 
“Suppose you get all that,” was put in, as he paused for breath, 
“would you go to school every day and behave yourself, like a 
regular fellow?” 
He was quite clearly in a quandary. On one hand, beckoned the 
tempting acquisitions he desired; on the other, frowned his pet 
detestation, the school. He hesitated for several moments, and was 
struck by the brilliant idea of compromise. 
“I ’ll be good if yuh want me to, right here in the house,” he 
offered. 
“That’s not enough! If you are going to be a regular fellow and 
a good sport, you are going to school, too.” 
He looked up pleadingly, his large blue eyes bright with tears. 
“Just lemme stay here and not bother about school,” he begged. 
“Can’t do that; you know if we keep you out of school, we ’re 
liable to be arrested.” 
“Oh, that ’ll be all right,” he cried eagerly, “I ’ll get yuh out — 
I ’ll tell ’em it’s my fault.” 
“It’s nice of you to want to take the blame; but since it won’t 150 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
be very nice to let a little fellow be punished because a big one 
did n’t do his duty, you simply must make up your mind to be a 
good sport and go to school.” 
His dismay and alarm were most ludicrously expressed by the 
heavy frowns and contortions of his bright little face. He wept, he 
appealed, and he made extravagant promises at reform, if only he 
were permitted to remain out of school. The classroom was to him 
a bugbear that loomed dark and terrible upon his horizon. 
After a careful investigation had revealed the fact that he had no 
genuine reason to regard the school as a dreadful chimera, to be 
avoided, he was taken for a stroll, made happy with the purchase of 
“ Whitey ” and “Browney” (two pretty rollicking rabbits), and 
quite casually landed in the neighborhood of the school. 
Holding his pets tenderly, he was introduced to the principal, 
and to his stupefaction, was enrolled as a pupil, and with the other 
children went to school after luncheon. 
As was expected, his pets drew him home, and for several days, 
the monitor in charge of him had no difficulty in combating the 
Wanderlust germ. He was entranced by the antics of the bunnies, 
and spent all his time, when not at school, in caring for and watch- 
ing them. He informed his mother, who came to see him after 
three days’ stay in his new home, that “I love ’em better ’an the 
whole world,” which caused the poor woman, eager for every 
crumb of affection she could beguile from him, to give vent later to 
the philosophic remark, “It’s the way of the world to think of the 
mother last!” But she was quite happy that, as yet, he had had no 
wandering spell. 
A few days afterward, while feeding his pets, he suddenly paused 
in the process, and without word or sign to anyone, silently dis- 
appeared. For two days, his distracted monitor roamed the 
streets searching for him, and finally discovered him at a crowded 
corner, selling newspapers. He was brought home repentant, and 
very much the worse for two days’ and nights’ wear and tear of the 
city streets. 
“I just couldn’t help it,” he explained, “something made me 
want to run away, so I run away.” 
Despite his promises, a few days later he again disappeared. 
This time it was the police who telephoned the office to the effect 
that a wretched little vagabond had been picked up late at night, 
who claimed that he was an inmate of the Home. A hurried trip to 
the police station, and then a woebegone, grimy, and starved little 
youngster, very contrite and repentant, was on his way back to the 
Orphanage. “I know I’m awful bad,” he sighed regretfully, “but WANDERERS 
151 
I can’t help it — I just got to go. Guess I was born crazy like that 
son of a b told me.” 
“Whom do you mean?” 
“Oh, that guy she got married to,” he replied. 
“Who is the ‘ she ’?” 
“Don’t cher know? ” he burst out eagerly; “she ain’t my mother 
— only ’dopted me.” 
“Who told you so?” 
“That — ” he hesitated, and then changed the words that had 
been at the tip of his tongue — “that guy was always throwing it 
up to me,” he continued. 
At the Home, he was washed and fed and sent to bed. Waking 
at noon the next day, he dressed and presented himself at the 
office, inquiring anxiously, “What’s yuh gonna do to me?” 
“What would you do to a boy like yourself?” he was asked. 
He replied without hesitation: “Aw, put him in the crazy house 
or get him drowned.” 
Instead of heeding his suggestions, he was given a good dinner, 
and then taken into the office for a talk. First, objections to “swear 
words” and vile language were clearly presented, and then his 
adopted mother’s devotion and affection for him were pointed out 
to him. He was informed that he was too bright and intelligent to 
be “crazy,” and that it was up to him to do the right thing and 
show his mother’s husband that he had been “born right.” 
He nodded his head eagerly. “Sure, I will,” he promised. 
That same afternoon, notwithstanding his tender age, he became 
a member of the printing class, and was taught to distribute sticks 
of type. He also joined the carpentry class, — which for a time 
interested him, — and found himself confronted by a curriculum of 
work and play, which left him to himself very seldom. He was un- 
adaptable at school, and it was not till his ardent desire for a puppy 
was tentatively granted upon condition that he bring a good re- 
port from school, that he gave any serious attention to his school- 
work. 
For several weeks he plainly made every effort to conform to 
rules and regulations; and then, on the way home from school, 
managed cleverly to evade the monitor’s eye, and ran off again. 
For three days, an unavailing search was conducted for him; then 
he was again picked up by the police, this time in a township 
nearby, footsore, weary, and apparently on the verge of starvation. 
He was abject in his penitence, and made extravagant promises 
of reform, pleading to be forgiven again. This time he gave the 
strange excuse that a large hand seemed to be beckoning to him, 152 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
and he just could n’t help following it; but at the same time he 
promised that, if the hand beckoned again, he would follow it no 
more. 
With the dog he craved, as a bait, he was set to work again and 
his movements carefully watched. A month passed, and he was 
progressing favorably at school and having no difficulty at home, 
when suddenly he again disappeared. This time he was quickly 
apprehended by the police, as an irate fruit-vender caught him 
stealing some bananas, and after administering a very severe beat- 
ing, complained to the officer on the beat. He was brought home 
stiff and sore from the pommeling he had received, and sobbing out 
his heart in his sorrow and regret, pleaded for “just one more 
chance. A dog would n’t let me run away no more. Please let me 
have a dog,” he pleaded. 
He was told that it depended solely upon him to earn the dog. 
He redoubled his efforts, and naively petitioned both his supervisor 
and his teachers to “please watch me all the time and don’t let me 
run away till I get my dog.” 
Undoubtedly he must have had many a struggle with the Wander- 
lust in the several months that passed and saw him adhering to his 
last promise, “not to run away no more.” At the end of the term, 
he was promoted to the Second Grade and received the reward of a 
dog. He was overjoyed with this addition to his live possessions, 
which included a kitten, three pigeons, the rabbits, and a canary in 
a cage which his mother had brought him, and which, for safety, 
was kept in his supervisor’s room, but was cared for by him. 
He spent a very happy summer, participating in all the outings, 
games, and parties given the children, and attended to his small 
duties, with his favorite pet, the dog, always beside him. “Did n’t 
I say the dog would n’t let me run away?” he asked triumphantly, 
as the vacation passed, and he had not left the house once without 
permission. 
His poor mother, believing him cured, was elated, and in the 
exuberance of her joy, brought him as many sugar-plums and 
dainties as were permitted. Once, finding him away at a ball- 
game, the poor creature waited all afternoon with her offerings, 
till he returned, his dog clasped fondly in his arms. In response to 
her effusive greetings, he remarked ungraciously enough, “You 
did n’t have to wait for me so long at all — you know where my 
locker is, don’t you?” The unhappy mother wept over her heart- 
ache in the office, but expressed her gratification, even while the 
tears were coursing down her cheeks, that the boy’s reformation 
made her last days peaceful. WANDERERS 
153 
At this time, he manifested an interest in the Junior Boy Scout 
Troop, and prayed to be allowed to become a member. This was 
promised him as a birthday gift on his tenth birthday, provided his 
record was clear of any taints. It was deemed a desirable oppor- 
tunity to speak to him on a Scout’s love and devotion to parents 
and friends, and he listened readily, and when told, “Now start 
with your mother, and show her how much you appreciate her 
affection,” he replied, “All right, sir!” 
He was as good as his word, to the intense happiness of the kind 
little woman who had loved and cared for him. He tried to commit 
the Scout laws to memory, and though he expressed himself as 
regretting that “school had opened already,” he nevertheless made 
no further objection to the schoolroom. 
Not till the winter was well advanced, did he have another out- 
break of the Wanderlust. He and his dog suddenly disappeared one 
evening, right after supper, and could not be located in any of the 
“movie” houses in the neighborhood or in any other favored 
haunt. 
Toward midnight, when search had been abandoned for that 
night, a loud, shrill voice, reinforced by a dog’s bark, was heard 
calling the watchman’s name, and asking to be “let in quick; 
we’re freezing!” 
He was taken aback when a different “watchman” from the one 
he had expected opened the door for him; but he gathered his con- 
fidence and courage together quickly, and said, while his teeth 
chattered with the cold, “I come back myself this time. Did n’t I 
tell you that the dog would n’t let me run away? He did n’t — he 
just made me come back — and please excuse me this time. Honest 
to God, I ’ll never do it again.” 
Again he was as good as his word. His last outbreak remained 
the last. 
As he grew older, he became more interested in the manual-train- 
ing classes, showing a marked preference for the printing plant. 
He distributed type quite rapidly and accurately, and when he 
laboriously succeeded in setting up and printing, all by himself, a 
card bearing his and his dog’s name in very prominent capitals, his 
pride and delight knew no bounds. As an afterthought, he also 
printed a card bearing his mother’s name, and presented it to her. 
The poor woman was overjoyed with the gift, which to her was 
priceless, and vowed she would keep the bit of pasteboard next to 
her heart as long as she lived. 
Though he no longer attempted to “hook” school, he was not 
very enthusiastic about his studies; still he ranked well in his grade, 154 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
and was regarded with favor by his teachers, who considered him 
rather a hopeful case for the future. He gave his pets the most 
scrupulous care, Jimmy, his dog, remaining his prime favorite, and 
the daily recipient of lamentations over the enforced partings com- 
pelled by a heartless school-system. 
“Jimmy, you stay right here and wait for me till I come home. 
You ’re not going to run away like a bad boy, will you?” was his 
daily parting admonition. And Jimmy wagged his tail, and boy and 
dog were at peace. 
Later, after he was duly honored with a Junior Boy Scout mem- 
bership, he became a valuable unit in the Big Brother organization. 
A tiny tacker, chronologically younger than he, but of his own 
type, was admitted to the institution, and as an experiment, it was 
decided to test him in the role of Big Brother. 
He was called into the office. “Well, son, since you ’re a fine 
little man now and a good Scout, think you can be trusted with a 
big piece of work?” he was asked. 
He nodded his head vigorously. “Sure I can!” he said emphati- 
cally. 
“Think you and Jimmy can keep little Frank, the new boy, from 
running away all the time?” 
His face beamed with pleased and proud smiles. “Just you see! 
Me and Jimmy ’ll fix ’im,” he gloated. As he was leaving, eager to 
start with his work at once, he turned suddenly from the door-step, 
and asked, “If we make a good boy from Frank, can I be a monitor 
then?” 
The tactful explanation, that he would have to wait several years 
longer to attain such a dignity, only half satisfied him, as he tossed 
his head with a gesture of impatience and exclaimed, “Chee! I 
wish I was grown up already!” 
His response to the task presumptively assigned to him was in- 
stantaneous and effective. The belief that he was in charge of a 
“rummy” (as the runaways were termed in the boys’ own vernac- 
ular) was a novel and gratifying experience to him. He felt his 
responsibility, and it was interesting to watch him guard his “ little 
brother,” and shrewdly take note of his every movement. He was 
at the youngster’s side at every twist and turn, remonstrating, 
lecturing, and condemning any effort the other made to “hook” 
school. In his anxiety to make a success of his “job,” he even of- 
fered to share his pets with his charge, only the favored Jimmy 
being excluded from the generous offer. 
The Home publication now engaged his interest, and as he grew 
older, he took pride in the fact that he also contributed his labor to WANDERERS 
155 
the production of the small magazine. The monitors at this time 
deemed it advisable to increase the subscription list of the paper by 
instituting a “drive,” and it was he who carried off the honors and 
won the prize for obtaining the greatest number of subscriptions. 
Physically, he gained in weight, and he appeared healthier and 
sturdier. Good food and a regular, wholesome life had a tonic effect 
upon him, and his nervous disorders completely disappeared in 
time. The boys’ games and outdoor sports finally attracted him, 
and he learned to participate in them, with true happy, boyish 
abandon. 
Possibly a case for vocational guidance at a later period; but at 
the time, he was a normal boy living in the environment best 
suited to his needs, and benefiting accordingly. 
The Result 
The Superintendent of the Institution of which he is still an 
inmate, kindly submitted the following information concerning 
him, June 19, 1922: 
“He is a bright, happy lad, perfectly normal in every respect. 
I was surprised to learn that he had been a problem at any period in 
his life. To my knowledge, he has had an unbroken good record 
from school during the past year, and has not left the Home with- 
out permission at any time. 
“His scholarship is good, and at the next promotion he will be 
admitted to the Junior High School. He enjoys Scouting and out- 
door sports, and appears to be greatly interested in printing. 
“A few months ago, we were notified that he had been left $350 
on savings deposit in a local bank, by a woman who died of tuber- 
culosis. It is understood that she was his adopted mother. This 
money, in addition to a Liberty Bond, valued at $50, will be 
applied for his future education and welfare. 
“When he learned that I intended to visit B , on my way to 
the Conference, he begged that I take with me his love and fondest 
remembrances to his dearest friend.” CHAPTER IV 
PILFERERS 
Case A, Elsie G “The Prima Donna” 
Case B, Philip L “Raffles, Jr.” 
Case C, Otto L (Brother of Philip L ) 
“A Straggler” CASE A 
ELSIE G , “THE PRIMA DONNA” 
Entered Institution for Dependent Children, February 10, 1906. 
Age 12 years 
1. Delinquency 
(o) Stealing large or small sums of money, whenever and 
wherever obtainable. 
(6) Purloining toilet articles for personal use, and appro- 
priating any garments of seeming value in her eyes, with 
the view of subsequently pawning them, at a favorable 
opportunity. 
(c) Crafty; cunning; shrewdly able to form a link of circum- 
stantial evidence, convicting some other child of her mis- 
deeds. 
(d) Inveterate liar, tale-bearer, and mischief-maker. 
(e) Sullen; extremely obstinate and discontented. 
(/) Spells of hysterical crying and screaming when reproved 
or chastised. 
2. The School 
(а) Several years’ retardation caused by frequent illnesses, 
some real, and most assumed. 
(б) Refractory and disobedient. Especially fond of “making 
a fool of the teacher,” and being considered “smart,” and 
“so brave,” by the class, which was usually entertained 
by her antics and impertinence. 
(c) An artist in caricaturing the teacher with chalk and pencil, 
and writing, and passing around the class, notes contain- 
ing the most freakish and ridiculous sentiments regarding 
that much-tried person. 
(d) The ringleader in all mischief and insubordination. 
3. Home 
(а) Stealing from mother, uncles, and aunts, and avowing her 
innocence of the thefts committed. Frequently accusing 
a brother or sister of her own wrongdoing. 
(б) Impishly bearing tales from mother to relatives-in-law, 
and vice versa, and then serenely enjoying the discord and 
unhappiness which followed. 
(c) Impertinent, defiant, and unmanageable. 
The Problem 
159 160 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
4. Society 
(a) Begged neighbors to be permitted to do their errands; 
but when entrusted with their purchases in answer to her 
request, would appropriate the money, and spend it upon 
such trifles and pleasures as she desired. To the neighbor 
she would then bring some hard-luck story concerning the 
loss of the money. 
(&) Delighted in the quarrels and animosity she caused among 
the neighbors with her tales, which she brought from one 
family to the other. Reveled in learning gossip and scan- 
dal, to spread broadcast among her victims. 
(c) Despising authority and fond of organizing the children 
on the block to defy and play pranks upon the street’s 
policeman, whom she hated and feared. He had, upon 
various occasions, threatened to haul her into the Juvenile 
Court, and she wanted “to get even” with him. 
(d) Petty pilfering from the cash-boxes in stores in her neigh- 
borhood; also stealing from the homes which had neither 
knowledge nor suspicion of her propensities. 
1. Physical 
(а) Quite tall for her age, very slender and wiry. 
(б) Sparse, dry brown hair; wan, pinched features, the eyes 
a lustreless blue, cold and expressionless. 
(c) The face was unchildlike, and attracted attention by 
reason of the maturity and cold indifference to the world 
that it seemed to convey. 
(d) Frequent nervous twitchings of the mouth. Constant bit- 
ing of the nails had mutilated the right thumb and fore- 
finger to such an extent, that they were practically minus 
their nails. 
(e) Troubled with eczema, insomnia, and enuresis. 
2. Mental 
(а) Examination: 
Physicians had in turn diagnosed her case as “exceed- 
ingly high strung, very neurotic, and in urgent need of 
change of environment. Disciplinary measures strongly 
advised.” 
(б) Personality Traits: 
Fond of feigning illness, and receiving the care and at- 
tendance bestowed upon an invalid. When “ill,” quite 
The Analysis PILFERERS 
161 
languid, sad and drooping, a doleful image, inviting com- 
passion and sympathy. 
Inclined toward neatness and orderliness, only in so far 
as personal effects were concerned. 
Liked to pose and imagine herself wronged, suffering, 
and misunderstood by everybody. 
Had special aptitude for biting, cutting remarks, and a 
choice flow of bitter invectives at the slightest provocation. 
Inordinately fond of pretty clothes, trinkets, cosmetics, 
and perfumes. 
Believed herself possessed of a remarkable voice, and 
would offer that information at first acquaintance, and 
also submit proof of her pretension, by singing snatches 
of popular songs in a soprano voice decidedly out of key. 
Boastful; vain; extremely jealous and envious of any 
gift received by, or privilege accorded to another child.' 
Anti-social. Only playing at friendship to further her 
own ends. 
3. Social 
(a) Heredity: 
Father: was the youngest of a family of five brothers 
and two sisters, who were all more successful in finding 
their proper niche in life than he. The former were all 
well established in some business of their own, and the 
sisters had married well. 
He had been delicate from birth, and had been the 
favorite of his parents, who planned a scholarly career for 
him. He had received an excellent education in the 
furtherance of his parents’ ambitions for him, but re- 
mained an impractical dreamer, who had no definite ob- 
ject or purpose in life. He wanted the world to recognize 
its many sins, and wrote innumerable tracts upon the 
subject, which generally landed in the waste-basket. 
The death of his parents entailed upon him the neces- 
sity of earning his own livelihood, and he accepted a clerk- 
ship in his oldest brother’s manufacturing establishment. 
Shortly thereafter he fell in love with one of the operatives 
of the place, who was poor and friendless, and against the 
opposition of his entire family, married her. 
The result was estrangement from his relatives, which 
cost him his clerkship, and deprived him of the advice and 
assistance of his brothers, which had stood him in good 
stead before his marriage. As he was of but mediocre 162 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
ability, and unskilled at any work, he had great difficulty 
in finding and keeping jobs. He earned very little, and 
his family, which numbered five living children after he 
had been married twelve years, led a precarious existence, 
till his brothers, appealed to by sympathetic neighbors, 
came to his assistance. 
At that time, he was suffering from tuberculosis, and 
died soon after, leaving no provision for his family. 
Mother: a woman of fine physique and attractive ap- 
pearance, had ordinary intellect, but always maintained 
that, if she had been given advantages, she would have 
shown the world “a thing or two.” Her claim that her 
lineage was a most proud one, and that her father had been 
a man of erudition and wealth, was not substantiated by 
the facts, which were exactly contrary to her statements. 
Her only known relatives were two sisters, who had 
married day laborers and were struggling to eke out an 
existence for their numerous broods of children. Their 
mentality could not be classed higher than high-grade 
moron. 
She asserted that her married life had been very happy, 
in spite of extreme poverty, and deplored her widowhood 
with loud and bitter lamentations. Her brothers-in-law 
arranged for a monthly allowance to be settled upon her 
and the children, which she eagerly accepted, and for two 
years after her husband’s death, managed to keep the 
family intact. 
Then, asserting that her health had been undermined 
by her troubles and ceaseless ministrations to her children, 
and that she was tired of being supported by charity, she 
applied to two different institutions for relief. One, an 
Orphan Asylum, accepted the older boy and girl, twins, 
and the other, a newly established institution, acted 
favorably upon her applications made for the three younger 
children, thus relieving her of all responsibility toward 
her family. 
Her relatives-in-law objected to the disposal she had 
made, maintaining that it put them in an embarrassing 
position to have their nephews and nieces reared in 
charitable institutions. She, however, insisted that she 
was tired of dependence and charity, and desired to become 
self-supporting. Disregarding advice and objections, she 
returned to her former work in a factory. PILFERERS 
163 
She visited the children regularly, and appeared neat, 
well dressed and contented. 
A year or so later, she developed into an incipient case 
of tuberculosis, and was constantly undergoing treatment 
for the disease. At infrequent intervals she worked, in- 
sisting that she must be “independent.” 
Siblings: Older brother, good mentality, was a normal, 
healthy boy, who was greatly benefited by the educa- 
tional opportunities afforded him by the Orphan Asylum. 
His character was highly commended, and his ambition 
and achievements were such as to leave no doubt that he 
would make a good and desirable member of the com- 
munity, after he left the institution. 
In addition to his college studies, he was interested in 
music and athletics. 
Older sister, of average mentality, was extremely fond of 
“good times,” and was rather a problem, as she was ad- 
dicted to petty pilfering and lying. 
Her scholarship at school was fair, and she was quite 
handy with the needle, to which she took readily. She 
was good-natured, inclined toward laziness, and so easily 
led that she was considered a weakling. 
In time, she earned her livelihood by her needle. 
Younger brother, low mentality, extremely filthy in 
habits and about person. 
Had no definite ambition; could be influenced without 
difficulty, and was chiefly interested in food and having 
“a bully time.” 
He had poor character formation and seemed spiritless 
and easily discouraged. 
After he had been graduated from the Grammar School, 
he was taught a trade, and ultimately became an honest 
and plodding workman. 
Youngest sister, was a pale, flaccid little creature, under- 
sized and underweight. She was tongue-tied and suffered 
with chronic catarrh. Her mentality was average, and 
during the number of years she spent at the institution, 
she never presented any difficulties. She was quiet, gentle 
and docile to every command. 
At school she was obedient and attentive, and worked 
desperately to keep up with her class. Her mind was 
rather sluggish but her industry enabled her to reach a 
fair average in her studies, and she was graduated from 164 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
school at the proper age. She then received a business 
training, and at the time of her discharge from the in- 
stitution, was holding a position as stenographer and doing 
satisfactory work. 
(6) Developmental: 
As an infant, she cried constantly, and, said the mother, 
‘‘She used to make me so mad, that I often wanted to 
throw her out of the window. It was her father who walked 
the floor every night with her; I could n’t stand it.” 
In her early childhood, she had had scarlet fever, 
diphtheria, and then broncho-pneumonia, which succes- 
sion of ills had left her a frail wraith of a child, extremely 
irritable and unhappy. According to her mother’s report, 
she wanted to be fondled and caressed all the time, and 
was very jealous of the care and affection given the other 
children. In the mother’s words, “She wasn’t the only 
child I had, and she wanted us to give her everything, not 
caring about the others at all. She threatened to kill the 
new baby that came after her, and we had to watch him 
all the time, as we were afraid she would really do it. 
‘We got enough children without him,’ she told me, and 
she prayed to God that he should die.” 
As she grew older, she became the tyrant of the family, 
and loved her father best, as it was he who gave her most 
affection and indulged her in her caprices. “She never 
loved anybody but him,” asserted the mother, “and he 
was the only one who could do anything with her.” 
Unfortunately for her, the father, who was the only in- 
fluence in her life she heeded, had been so beset with cares 
and troubles, that of necessity what attention he gave her 
was cursory and incomplete, and his death deprived her 
completely of the only mentor she would recognize. 
For the two years following her father’s death, she 
practically followed the dictates of her own erratic will, 
with the most demoralizing results. In the institution in 
which her mother placed her, she found inexperienced 
people who were attempting child-care on a large scale, 
and she fiendishly recognized the powers and advantages 
the situation offered to her. For some time, she played 
the people against one another, and emboldened by her 
success, reached out for more and different things. PILFERERS 
165 
(c) Habits and Interests: 
Very poor eater. “Just let me have sour pickles, sauer- 
kraut, lemons, tea and candy. That’s all I want for 
meals,” she frequently begged. 
Fond of nursing grievances, most of them imaginary, 
and threatening retaliation and revenge for fancied 
wrongs. 
Would sit for hours blankly gazing at nothing in par- 
ticular, a lackadaisical expression upon her face, biting 
her lips and nails alternately. 
Superstitious to a degree strange and violent for so young 
a child. Saw signs, warnings, and prophesies in anything 
and everything, from a ray of moonlight falling upon her 
head or over her shoulder, to a black cat crossing her path. 
The former occurrence acted pleasantly upon her but the 
latter, as frequently as not, threw her into hysterics of 
fear and terror. An attack of somnambulism was once 
directly traced to the fact that she had seen a black cat, 
whether the same or not was not ascertained, four times 
in one day, and each time the cat had looked at her and 
run directly in front of her. It meant, she explained, that 
the devil had taken abode in the black cat, and intended 
to “get me.” 
It took several doses of bromide to allay her anticipa- 
tions of disasters and nervous terrors, when by accident 
she once dropped and broke a pocket mirror. For several 
weeks, she hysterically insisted that she had been doomed 
to seven years of bad luck, by reason of the mishap. 
Dreams and their significance, as outlined in the “Old 
Witch’s Dream Book,” a prized possession, were of great 
interest to her. With the aid of the book, she would 
decipher the meaning of her own dreams to her satisfac- 
faction or dismay, and would also diagnose the night 
imagery of other dreamers. Every dream, no matter how 
trivial, had some meaning for her, and often she had her 
dormitory shuddering with horror over some prophecy of 
ill she made, in analyzing the dream of some unhappy 
child. 
She was also intensely interested in another book, 
“Black Magic, or How to Make a Fortune with Cards,” 
and would pore over its pages in rapt attention. Shuffling 
cards and telling fortunes were the direct results of the 
fruits of her reading. She also attempted to tell fortunes 
through the medium of tea-leaves in a cup of tea. 166 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
No interest in outdoor sports or games, or in any normal, 
wholesome pastime or pleasure. 
(id) Home Conditions: 
At all times, her home had been in a good neighborhood, 
and while poverty had sadly affected the environment, in 
no way could it have influenced her moral attitude. It was 
learned through various sources, that, despite her mother’s 
assertions of absolute happiness during her married life, 
there had been constant friction between man and wife, 
and that always the girl had championed her father’s 
cause. 
The two diverse characters had clashed constantly, and 
the man frequently accused his wife of lies, which she re- 
sented bitterly. 
At a later period, the girl told of a quarrel which had 
remained in her mind, when her father told the mother, 
that she “did n’t know how to tell the truth.” 
After the man’s death, the home maintained for the 
family by his relatives was the scene of frequent misun- 
derstandings and contention, caused by mutual hatred. 
(e) Mental Interests: 
Dreams, superstitions, and fortune-telling. 
The Treatment 
When she was first noted and her acquaintance made, she was 
swathed in heavy blankets, muffled up to her chin, and was list- 
lessly reclining in a wheeled chair, which the nurse had put in a 
sunny corner of the Home’s small hospital porch. She turned in- 
different eyes to the door as the sound of strange footsteps at- 
tracted her attention, and answered the greeting given her with a 
critical and hostile gaze. “Guess you’re the new Superintendent, 
ain’t you?” she inquired languidly. 
“Yes. How do you feel?” 
“Terrible. I did n’t sleep all night and I got a bad dream, and 
now I got a headache and I got to be sick till I get to be matured,” 
she explained, all in one breath. 
“What does she mean by having to be sick till she matures?” 
the nurse was asked, in a corner of the hospital, far removed from 
the alert ears on the porch. 
The young woman ventured an explanation. The physician 
who had examined the child several days before had stated as his 
opinion that the various nervous disorders and minor physical PILFERERS 
167 
ills, from which she had been suffering from time to time, were 
caused by oncoming maturity, and advised quietude, rest, and 
absolute relaxation for the patient. 
“Did the doctor state at what particular time the child might 
mature?” the nurse was further questioned. 
“No; but we expect that it may happen any day,” was the 
reply. 
Several days later, the nurse pounced into the office, angry and 
excited. “I have reached the limit of my endurance with that 
girl,” she complained. “What do you think she did now? Noth- 
ing else than tell Mrs. C [the housekeeper] that the box of 
handkerchiefs she has been missing since yesterday was taken by 
me from her room when she was out.” 
“What did you do?” 
“Why, I distinctly resent being considered a thief, and gave her 
a sound scolding and accused her of taking the handkerchiefs 
herself. She steals and lies abominably.” 
“Then what followed?” 
“The girl screamed and yelled her head off, and is just over an 
attack of hysterics,” was the information given. 
“Is there anything really wrong with her at the present time?” 
“N-o,” hesitatingly replied the nurse, “but she is likely to 
mature any day.” 
“Then suppose we assume that her maturity is quite likely to 
be a normal function, and send her out of the hospital?” 
“But the doctor — ” the nurse began, and irresolutely stated 
objections. 
Relieved of all responsibility in the matter, the next day she 
very gladly removed the blankets from her patient, to the latter’s 
extreme amazement, and advised her to get dressed and make her 
appearance in the office. 
The girl came in with the air of an injured saint, and heaved a 
sigh as she sank into the nearest chair. 
“Oh, hello! Feeling better this morning?” she was asked. 
“A little tiny bit,” she agreed dolefully. 
“How about school?” 
“Oh, I couldn’t go,” she burst out quickly, her languor unex- 
pectedly dissipated. 
“Why not?” 
“Oh, because the doctor said that I must do nothing and rest 
till I get matured,” she expounded earnestly and clearly. 
“ Since then the doctor has changed his mind and feels that you 
should be given the same chance as the other girls to go to school 168 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
and have good times, and not bother about maturing at all for 
some time,” she was told. 
She burst into tears which came readily and quickly. “But I 
like it up in the hospital,” she asserted. 
“Don’t you want to be smart and educated?” 
“Ugh!” she ejaculated contemptuously, “I’m smarter ’n any of 
them things here, an’ I got more sense than my momma any day.” 
“If you’re so smart now without an education, just think what 
school will do for you. A smart girl is needed here in the office — 
how about helping out?” 
There was something about the proposition that seemed to 
please her immensely, and she leaped at it with avidity. Not until 
weeks later was her eagerness explained. 
“I know how to telephone, and the voluntary teacher showed 
me how to typewrite, and I always brought the mail to the other 
Superintendent, and I know all the people who come in here — ” 
She went on breathlessly, boasting of her long list of accomplish- 
ments, quite forgetting her role of invalid. 
On the spur of the propitious moment, she consented to return 
to school, and also agreed to resume all the activities that her 
“illness” had stopped. She was quite anxious to start her office- 
work at once. “I knew all about them envelopes that have the 
children’s money in them,” she confided. 
“What do you know about them?” 
“Oh, when one of them wants some money, they take them out 
of the envelope and mark it down. You got to watch them, ’cause 
if you don’t, some of them envelopes can’t be found the next time. 
Some of them kids are awful thieves — wait, you see.” 
Thinking to ingratiate herself with the new authority, and 
believing the time specially opportune for further disclosures of 
the iniquities existing in the large household, among both chil- 
dren and adults, she completely forgot her ills, present and future, 
and eloquently launched her attacks on young and old. She was 
even unsparing in her remarks upon the directors of the institu- 
tion, and gave the information that “they think they know it all, 
but they don’t know nothin’.” 
Feeling that she had made the impression she desired, she 
readily consented to permit herself to be escorted to school, and, 
in short order, had breakfasted, dressed, and presented herself 
with a smile, for the ordeal facing her. 
On the way to school, she criticized without stint the principal 
and teachers, and deplored the fact that none seemed to understand 
and appreciate her, either at home or at school. PILFERERS 
169 
‘‘My father was the only one who knew how smart I was,” she 
lamented, “and he had to die.” 
“Did you love him?” 
“Better’n the whole world!” she exclaimed enthusiastically. 
“Sometimes he comes to me by night and talks to me, and I feel 
happy.” 
Her record in the school was one of continuous absences for the 
period extending to a full school-year, about the time she had been 
an inmate of the institution. “She has been attending school, on 
an average, half a dozen times during the month, and our School 
Attendance Officer was always informed, at the Home, that she 
was ill. When she did come, she was so troublesome, that it was 
a relief when she stayed away,” complained her teacher. 
A long talk with the principal and teacher followed, and both 
kindly agreed to give their earnest cooperation in dealing with the 
girl. She came into the office at the close of the school-day, her 
eyes bearing the expression of a martyr, and seemingly she was 
on the verge of exhaustion. 
“Oh,” she sighed, “I’m so tired I’m nearly dead.” 
The complaint was completely ignored. “Do you know that 
the principal was told that you are such a bright girl that it’s a 
shame you should be in such a low grade? And we have a bet 
on, that you make two grades this term!” 
“A — h — h!” she ejaculated, her mouth wide open in her as- 
tonishment. 
“Mean to say that a bright girl like you can’t do it, and get 
ahead of the babies in your class?” she was asked, in assumed 
surprise. 
She became animated at once. “Of course I can,” she boasted; 
“I can do anything I want — but — but — I get sick all the time 
— and — ain’t I goin’ to be matured?” 
“Of course you will, some time, but you’re not going to sit still 
and let everybody younger and not so smart as you get ahead of 
you, are you?” 
“But they can’t get ahead of me — I’m too smart for them,” 
she argued. 
“Perhaps. But then they are learning lots of things that you’ll 
never know unless you go to school,” she was told. 
“What good will them things do me?” she questioned, with 
contempt in her voice for the “things.” 
“They’ll help you become an educated, refined young lady.” 
“They won’t make me rich like I want to be when I grow up, 
will they?” she asked. 170 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
“They might help you considerably in all your desires/’ she was 
assured. 
“I don’t see how,” she burst out, all her apparent fatigue dis- 
sipated in her eagerness; “when you’re rich, you got lots of 
money — and that’s not money they learn us in school.” 
“True. But is n’t it necessary to learn how to count the money 
you have, and be wise enough to know just what to do with it?” 
“Oh, I know what to do with money — spend it and buy lots 
of nice things—and I never count, I— I— I—” She stopped sud- 
denly in confusion, blushed red, and looked greatly distressed. 
“What do you do?” she was encouraged, gently and quietly. 
“I — I — ” she mumbled; and then, making an effort, blurted 
out, “I’ll go to school if you want me to — all right.” 
No remark was made about her sudden change of subject. She 
looked anxious, as if fearing further questioning; but to her very 
apparent relief, her confusion had been unnoticed, so she was per- 
mitted to think. Her face became quite calm, when she was told: 
“All right! We’ll regard that as a promise to attend school from 
now on regularly and faithfully, in spite of everything.” 
She nodded her head, and that afternoon installed herself in 
the office as assistant, general factotum, and privileged nuisance. 
Between her self-imposed duties, she made a feint at studying her 
lessons. As she was leaving the office for her evening meal, she 
noticed the president of the institution entering. At once she 
deviated from her course, and flew to him with every indication 
of affection; and he in turn fondled and caressed her, congratulat- 
ing her upon her apparent return to health. 
“She’s a wonderful girl,” confided the President; “only it’s too 
bad that the poor thing is sick all the time. She’s so smart, she 
knows everything.” 
To this information, he added later, that, since its inception a 
year and a half ago, the institution had suffered considerably by 
the disappearance of checks and sums of money sent through the 
mail. Also, that the children who had odd little amounts in enve- 
lopes in the Superintendent’s desk frequently found their funds 
lessened or altogether missing, nobody knew how or when. 
“It couldn’t be any of the adults around here, as we at first 
thought,” he observed, “because we changed the entire force 
twice in a year, and the same thing continued. I think,” he said 
sadly, shaking his gray head with mournful emphasis, “that we 
must have some very bad boys here, who are clever thieves.” 
“Perhaps girls?” was mildly intimated. 
“Oh, no!” he replied emphatically; “the girls here are gentle PILFERERS 
171 
and good.” Then he resinned, “I have been thinking for a long 
time of employing a detective, but I’m afraid the matter might 
become public and give us a bad name.” 
“In what way?” 
“Don’t you understand that the people would refuse to support 
an institution which cared for bad children? They would n’t want 
to give their money for the purpose of rearing up thieves for the 
community; and,” he paused and forcefully brought his clenched 
fist down upon the table in front of him, the better to emphasize 
his argument, “they are right! Bad boys have no business to be 
here at all. They belong in jail or the reformatory, because they 
are simply growing up to be criminals.” 
As he was leaving, he bethought himself of a suggestion. “That 
girl is so smart, may be she can help you catch the thieves,” he 
advised. 
Early the next morning, the girl was noticed in the vestibule 
peering out into the street. 
“Expecting somebody?” she was asked. 
“Yes, sir, the postman,” she responded brightly. “If I would n’t 
get it for you, then them kids get hold of it, and that’s why there 
is always mail missing.” 
An interview with the postman elicited the information that it 
was she who usually waited for him and took the mail. She had 
explained to him that she had been assigned to that duty. “Even 
when she’s sick, she either waits for me, or sends some kid to meet 
me. She’s some fine girl,” was the man’s verdict. 
He was instructed to deliver the mail direct to the office in the 
future. 
“You’ll see how that mail is going to be gone,” warned the 
girl, when told that she was to be relieved of mail duty for the 
present. 
She was right. During the next month, important communica- 
tions sent to the Home had not been found in the mail; and 
though the desk was constantly locked, small sums of money were 
as constantly missing from the envelopes in which they had been 
placed. There had also been frequent reports from the children 
that various things were missing from their lockers; and the em- 
ployees of the place also brought complaints of losses they had 
sustained, both in money and in articles of value. 
As for the girl, though her dreams, aided by her dream-book, 
had foretold that she would be sick at least for a week, and unable 
to attend school, she nevertheless, for the first time in her career, 
attended school a whole month in succession without absences. 172 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
Several times she had made efforts to be excused on the score of 
some illness which seemed imminent; but always the danger was 
minimized, and always surprise was expressed that “so smart a 
girl should give any attention to so small a matter.” 
A class had been organized in sewing and embroidery, and she 
took very kindly to the needle. She seemed very much interested 
in dressmaking, and for several hours after school each day would 
be intent upon the dress she wanted to make for herself. It was 
to be, as she expressed it, “the first dress to be made by any girl 
in the Home”; and she pleaded that, when finished, “it should be 
put up in the glass case for everybody to see how nice it was made.” 
Finally, the decoy, sought for several weeks, came in the form 
of a bulky letter addressed to the treasurer of the Home. The girl 
was in the office at the time. It was noted how she eyed the letter, 
and quickly withdrew her eyes when she thought herself observed. 
“Do you know Mr. B ?” she was asked. 
“Sure,” she replied quickly; “he’s the treasurer here.” 
“Do you know what a treasurer is?” she was questioned. 
“Sure,” was the answer, “he’s the man who keeps all the 
money.” 
Unknown to her, the letters were counted, and the treasurer’s 
put on the top of the pile. She was then left alone in the office 
for ten minutes. As expected, there were several letters missing, 
the treasurer’s among them, and the girl was out. 
She was sent for immediately. 
“Were n’t you told not to leave the office alone for a moment?” 
was put to her in a tone of severity. 
“I — know,” she burst into violent sobs without warning, “but 
— but I got such a bad headache all of a sudden, and went to ask 
the nurse for something — I was coming right back.” 
“Do you know that several letters are again missing?” 
She brushed the tears from her eyes, and seemed surprised and 
sorry at the same time. “So quick them kids got in — ain’t it 
awful?” she remarked. 
“Well, this time it’s going to get the one who took them into 
trouble, and we’ll catch him.” 
“How?” she asked instantly. 
“Because the treasurer’s letter is marked with a peculiar ink 
that’s bound to get upon the fingers of the one opening it, and it 
stays there for some time.” 
She cast a hasty glance at her fingers. “See!” she cried, “mine 
are all right. There’s nothing on them.” 
“Very well, we’ll look at all the children’s fingers. Ask Miss 
G to please step into the office.” PILFERERS 
173 
“All — right, — sir.” She appeared quite frightened. 
Miss G , the head supervisor, was requested not to let the 
girl out of her sight for a moment. She reported later that her 
charge seemed to be in trouble, but refused to unbosom herself of 
her woes. “All she does is to moan about a dream she had, which 
told her she should get into trouble,” said the woman. 
Early the next morning, upon entering the office, what appeared 
to be several folds of creased and torn wrapping paper, in the form 
of a large oblong, was discovered on the ledge of the desk. It bore 
the name and address of the treasurer of the Home, evidently 
hastily scribbled with a pencil. When the paper was removed, 
the letter was found intact. 
Nothing was said to the girl, though she haunted the office till 
school-time and appeared very ill at ease. Late in the afternoon, 
when she presented herself for her few office duties, she was asked 
to write the names of the officers and directors of the institution, 
as rapidly as possible. The treasurer’s name was naturally among 
them. 
Without any suspicion, she produced a duplicate of the hand- 
writing on the wrapping paper. 
Both sets of handwriting were then presented to her. “Well, 
what have you to say? ” 
She burst at once into her ready tears. “I — I — did n’t write 
that,” she indicated the wrapping paper. 
Her protestation was completely disregarded. “You’ll now 
tell immediately what you have done with the money and the 
checks you have been stealing since you came into the Home,” 
was the command given her in no uncertain terms. 
She answered with an hysterical attack, during which she 
screamed and avowed her innocence, yelling to an unseen outside 
public to have mercy upon a poor orphan who was being wronged, 
ill-treated, and abused. Then followed loud threats to tell the 
president and all the directors of the Home how she had been 
tortured “for nothing”; and finally the noise became so penetrat- 
ing, that it was deemed expedient to close the windows. 
“You may scream as loud and as long as you like,” she was told 
quietly, “but you are not going to leave this place till you have 
confessed what you did with the money you stole.” 
“It’s — it’s a big lie,” she screamed, “I ain’t a thief — I — 
never took nothin’.” 
“Very well then; we’ll have to see what the police can do with 
you.” 
Very abruptly she stopped in the midst of a yell, her mouth 174 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
open, her eyes staring wildly at the telephone, which, so far as she 
knew, was really forwarding a call. 
“Connect me with the Police Station of the Fifth Ward,” she 
heard, though the operator could not with the receiver muffled, 
and it was most effective. 
With a wild cry, she flung herself at the telephone, and at- 
tempting to prevent further discussion, with one hand held over 
the receiver, she pleaded, “Don’t — please — don’t call the police- 
man— and have me arrested. I’ll tell — I’ll tell you — every- 
thing.” 
The receiver was at once returned to its hook, and in very calm 
tones, she was advised to control herself for a few moments and 
then tell her story. 
“I — I got it all in my trunk in my locker,” she finally panted. 
A messenger was despatched for her “trunk,” which was really 
a toy made in the shape of a trunk, and designed to hold the elabo- 
rate wardrobe of a doll or two. It was locked. Slowly she pro- 
duced a tiny key that she wore on a very narrow ribbon about her 
neck, and hesitatingly opened what was truly a unique and original 
receptacle for stolen property. 
There then lay revealed a goodly assortment of checks, notes, 
greenbacks of various denominations, and, to add a touch of 
glitter, large and small silver coins, gold rings, pins, brooches, and 
some lace-edged handkerchiefs and collars. 
“How did you get keys for the desk and for the office-door?” 
She hung her head. The question was repeated more sternly. 
Sobbing, she lifted her heavy eyes brimming with tears, and 
begged, “Please — please have — pity on me!” 
“Where are the keys with which you opened the desk and the 
door? ” was the insistent question. 
She attempted to evade the issue by hysterical sobs and pleas 
for forgiveness. Finding that they were of no avail, she finally put 
a trembling hand into each of her stockings, and produced one key 
after the other. “This one — is from the desk,” she confessed 
brokenly, “and — and — this one — fits to the office.” 
“How did you get them?” 
“I — I — once took — them off a bunch of keys — from the 
other Superintendent,” she faltered. 
Then, changing her tone of voice to urgent entreaty, “What — 
what are you goin’ to do to me?” she sobbed in quavering accents. 
“ That’s for later consideration. Do you know how much money 
you have here?” 
“N-o-o,” she stammered. “I — I — can’t count — good yet. 
I just made a bunch — and collected them.” PILFERERS 
175 
“For what purpose?” 
She shrugged her shoulders helplessly. “I — I don’ — don’ — 
know,” she faltered despairingly. “May—be— ’cause I want to 
be rich like my uncles and aunts, — an’ I want to — to — have 
my voice trained to be a big singer, — an’ it costs a lot, everybody 
says.” 
“Elsie, did you steal the money because you wanted to have 
your voice trained? ” 
She looked up eagerly and nodded her head. “Everybody — 
told me that it — costs an awful lot of money,” she began hope- 
fully, but was interrupted. 
“The truth now, Elsie! For what other reason did you steal?” 
The words upon her lips became indistinct mutters. Her eyes 
fell, and she burst into renewed sobs. 
“I — I — couldn’t help it,” she wailed despairingly; “some- 
thing always makes me take things — honest — I can’t help it!” 
“What is the something?” 
“Something — inside — here!” she indicated the region where 
she assumed her heart was located. “An’ I can’t — can’t help it! ” 
“Have you tried?” 
“Yes, — yes, lots of times,” she cried quickly, “but it don’t 
help.” Then, clasping her hands in appeal, “You won’t send me 
where — they send bad people, who — steal? Please, — please, — 
I can’t help it!” 
“If you do the things bad people do, why should you expect not 
to be sent to the place where they are sent?” 
She wrung her hands in an abandon of woe. “Oh, I don’t want 
— to go there! I’m afraid — I knew something awful was goin’ 
to happen to me.” 
“How did you know?” 
“Oh, I had a terrible dream — and I knew — I was goin’ to be 
caught, and — and that black cat followed me to school this 
morning.” 
It was the “black cat” which suggested an idea. 
“Elsie, do you still love your father’s memory?” 
She nodded her head vehemently. 
“Do you know that your dead father sees and hears you now 
from his home in Heaven?” 
She shuddered and turned white. For a moment she looked as 
if she were going to faint. “ Y-e-s,” she whispered, looking about 
her fearfully. 
“Did he love you?” 
“ Better’n anybody else,” she said fervently. 176 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
“Do you understand how unhappy it must make him to know 
that his best-beloved child is a thief? ” 
“Oh! oh! oh!” She bent double as if in pain. “I — I — never 
— thought — of that! ” 
“And thinking of that now — will that help you to fight off the 
something that makes you take things? ” 
She nodded her head eagerly. “Yes, it will. I’ll swear — I’ll 
swear by my dead — father — that I ’ll never — never be a thief 
again.” 
In the future, the mail was not tampered with, and the children’s 
funds were safe, even though, later, she was often entrusted with 
the care of the small bank-accounts. The promise she had made 
seemed to be binding, and there was no theft that could be laid at 
her door. She made very evident attempts to apply herself to her 
school-work, to the delight of her teacher, who discovered in her 
an apt and versatile pupil, while at the Home her conduct and, in 
natural sequence, her health, improved to a degree that seemed 
little short of miraculous. 
A large public entertainment being planned in celebration of 
a holiday, the coach noted that she had fair dramatic possibilities, 
as well as a good voice, and she was given a leading part, which 
required her to both sing and act. She studied her role with vim 
and vigor, and on the day of the performance scored a triumph 
surpassing that of any of the other children. She was told by some 
admirers that she was the prima donna of the occasion, and in- 
stantly her pride, faith in herself, and ambition rose to the heights. 
Tired but happy, she came to the office that night before retiring, 
her eyes shining, her face wreathed in smiles. 
“Don’t you think my father was happy to-day when I was the 
prima donna?” she whispered softly. 
“Yes; to-day his soul was well pleased with you.” 
“I’m so glad,” she murmured. “You know, I’ve been trying 
real hard — you know what.” 
The time was now deemed ripe to start the undermining of her 
superstitions, dream-book, and fortune-telling. It was carefully 
explained to her that progress and success in life were independent 
of black cats, broken mirrors, cross-eyed people, and other omens 
of ill luck, as the “Old Witch’s Dream Book” had it. The fabric 
of dreams, she was informed, depended more upon the digestion 
than upon the imps of evil who were in league against the happiness 
of human beings. She listened attentively, and for a time it 
seemed as if the wholesome influences brought to bear upon her 
were in the ascendant. PILFERERS 
177 
Suddenly, one morning, the candy-dealer of the neighborhood 
presented himself, dragging her after him. He had intended turn- 
ing her over to the police, he declared, but only yielded to her pleas 
to be taken to the office instead, because of the friendship he felt 
for the institution. His complaint was, that she had been “hold- 
ing up” his cash-box and his candy, for months at least; and it 
was finally in desperation at his losses, that he had been com- 
pelled to institute himself a detective and catch the thief. He had 
caught her but a half-hour ago after weeks of futile watching. 
“Some clever thief!” he ejaculated. 
The girl hung her head, sobbing quietly to herself. She at- 
tempted no defense this time. But after the dealer was finally 
persuaded to leave her to the justice of another authority than the 
police, and had gone away, she gave vent to her grief, and pleaded 
for pardon and mercy. She confessed that, while she had scrupu- 
lously avoided further stealing from the mails and from the 
children’s funds, “because it was all charity money, and my father 
would feel so bad,” she just could n’t help her desire to “pick up 
money.” 
“I knowT it was wrong, but I could n’t help it,” she pleaded. 
Tentatively, the Reformatory was held before her. She was 
frightened and dismayed, and begged to be given another chance. 
“I’ll write a note saying that you can send me to the Reformatory 
the next time I steal,” she suggested; “just you give me one more 
trial.” 
The plea was accepted, and she wrote the following, which was 
put in the safe for future reference if necessary. 
“I, Elsie G , don’t want to go to that place where bad girls 
are kept; but if I steal again, then they can send me and I’ll 
have to go. Yours truly, Elgie Q „ 
Her thirteenth birthday came and went, with no complaint of 
pilfering to her score. She had, meanwhile, become a valued mem- 
ber of the sewing, embroidery, dramatic, and art classes, and 
was doing excellent work. Her temper tantrums, “illnesses,” and 
various difficulties showed marked improvement, so it was some- 
what of a shock when the office was unexpectedly called up by a 
department store, and informed that one of the girls of the Home 
was being detained for stealing. 
She was brought home, the wreck of the Elsie who had buoy- 
antly left, but an hour ago, to make some purchase for a super- 
visor. 178 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
“Could n’t help it — it came on me — and I took it,” was her 
explanation. She pleaded, however, with all the tears and elo- 
quence at her command that the note in the safe be disregarded. 
Another chance was, with apparent reluctance, given her, and 
she was closely watched for some time. When surveillance was 
about to be abandoned, it was discovered that she had suddenly 
developed a new habit of entering rooms when the occupants were 
out, and rifling purses. Where, formerly, any articles that at- 
tracted her were grist that came to her mill, now only money 
tempted her. She also plucked up courage, and very deliberately 
began to pick the pockets of coats left in some room, or on their 
wearers when they stopped to greet her. She began to make fre- 
quent and unsolicited visits to her uncles and aunts, receiving 
permission from her supervisor on one pretext or another; and 
always at the end of the visit, there came an indignant relative, 
furious and threatening. 
There were frequent conferences now held with her in the office; 
and, always bathed in tears, and shaking with sobs, she would im- 
plore pardon, and petition and plead for another chance. “I don’t 
want to do it — honest to God, — I don’t,” she would cry chok- 
ingly; “but something makes me — I can’t help it.” 
An appeal in her father’s name had the more lasting effect, but 
always, when some time had passed, and it seemed as if she were 
really on the road to a complete cure, there came a grievous fall 
from grace. Always, it was in some way different from her former 
procedure; and unfortunately she seemed to have a fount of orig- 
inality regarding her means of acquiring ill-gotten gains. 
For a time it seemed as if the Reformatory was, after all, the 
last and only resource left. In view of her undoubted ability to 
master any subject taught her, and a good general intellect, it 
seemed better to give her another and yet another chance before 
disposing of her definitely to an institution where she would be 
thrown in contact with older and more hardened sinners than her- 
self. Finally, as one trial after another had failed, a last desperate 
remedy suggested itself, after a talk given her on one of her pet 
superstitions. 
It was not without misgiving as to the probability of shock upon 
the already high-strung nervous system of the girl, that the last 
effort was made to save her from herself. 
She was sent to a room to fetch a book. As expected, she went 
directly to the bureau drawer first, after ascertaining that the 
room was unoccupied by calling out, “Anybody in?” found the 
purse she sought, and was extracting the bills from it, when a PILFERERS 
179 
figure enveloped in a white sheet moved slowly toward her, utter- 
ing in low but distinct tones, “Elsie, you swore in my name to 
steal no more. I am given no peace because of you — ” 
The purse and the bills dropped from her hands. She turned, 
horrified, and waiting to hear no more, fled shrieking from the 
room and flew to the office which had been left open for her refuge. 
Here she threw herself on the floor in a heap, and lay huddled up, 
moaning, white and trembling. Her eyes distraught, and her 
breath coming in gasps, she was so unstrung, that she even failed 
to recognize the figure which entered and quietly closed the door. 
“Why, Elsie, that you? What is the matter?” she was asked 
gently. 
She turned slowly, her face ghastly with the fear imprinted upon 
it. “Oh! oh! oh! ” she moaned. 
She was picked up, and her hair stroked; and again she was 
asked, in apparent surprise, “What has alarmed you, child? Tell 
me all about it!” 
She flung out her arms with a gesture of terror, and then slowly 
murmured, “Oh, it’s you! — thank God! — I am so frightened!” 
“Who did you think it was?” 
She shivered. “I — I could n’t see — I was afraid.” 
“Of whom?” 
Convulsive sobs followed. “I — I — just saw — my father!” 
she breathed between gasps. 
“Your father?” 
“Y-e-s! He — he — spoke to me.” 
“What did he say?” 
She shuddered. “I — I remember his voice — I knew him — I 
would know it any time. He said — he said, that I was a thief! 
That he was given no peace in Heaven — because I was stealing 
— and he was coming to me to — maybe kill me — ” she broke off 
with another wild shriek, shaking from head to foot, and sobbing 
wildly. 
After she had been somewhat calmed, the silence was broken. 
“It was a bad thing to promise something in your father’s name, 
and then break it, was n’t it?” 
“But — but — if I keep it now — honest, honest — honest! 
— will God let him have peace — will He — will He?” she ques- 
tioned breathlessly. 
“Remember that God forgives his children, and that your 
father loved you and will still love and forgive you, if you keep the 
promise you made in his name.” 180 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
“I will, I will!” she said earnestly, raising her hand as if to 
strengthen her promise. 
And she did! 
They were no physical or mental after-effects as the result of 
the shock she had received. She remained four years longer in the 
institution, and during that entire time, there was no theft on her 
record. She developed normally, becoming an attractive, slender 
girl, bright, and talented in music and dramatics. Her voice had 
been tested, and in an effort to bring out whatever possibilities it 
had, she was given vocal lessons. Time, however, brought the 
disappointing verdict that at best it was but an ordinary soprano 
voice, and a singer’s career was abandoned for the girl. Subse- 
quently, she used her training in voice-culture for the entertain- 
ment of her friends and herself, and also to teach the first rudiments 
of singing to the younger children at the Home. 
She excelled in handiwork, and it was at her laughing instiga- 
tion, that a “crazy quilt” was started by the members of the sew- 
ing class, to be awarded to the first girl who married. 
At no time was she a sex-problem, but in her last year at the 
Business College, she became greatly infatuated with a boy stu- 
dent of her owm age, and the two decided to elope and get married. 
Fortunately, she had developed a habit of coming to the office for 
refuge and guidance when tempted to wrongdoing, and in this 
particular instance, though she offered no information, her blushes 
and furtive glances were warning signals not to be disregarded. 
“How about a walk, little girl?” was suggested to her. 
She nodded mutely. For a long time, the walk was in utter 
silence. Suddenly she asked, “When a bride elopes, does she take 
her wedding-dress with her?” 
“The eloping bride does not stop for a wedding-dress — that’s 
why she elopes; she is in too much of a hurry.” 
“Then I don’t see the fun in getting married, without a wedding- 
dress and a veil,” she announced. 
“Neither do I.” 
“But what are you going to do if you love him with all your 
heart and soul?” she asked wistfully. 
“Show him to my friends, and have them arrange the wedding, 
with the silk dress, and the slippers, and the veil, and the cakes, 
and everything that goes with a wedding.” 
“You won’t be angry? And you want to see him?” she ques- 
tioned earnestly. 
“Why, of course! Anybody who loves my little girl, I am ready 
to love.” PILFERERS 
181 
“ If you should n’t happen to like him, you won’t chase him 
out?” she pleaded. 
“Positively not! The reception-room is yours to entertain him 
whenever you like.” 
She was wild with delight, and immediately poured out her 
confidences freely about her “love,” the proposed elopement that 
was not sufficiently attractive without a wedding-dress, and her 
plans for the future as a “married lady.” 
She entertained her “sweetheart” twice, the second visit wind- 
ing up with a quarrel, upon which she burst into the office, and 
announced, “I just told him to chase himself. He has less sense 
than our older boys here. I’m so glad that I did n’t run away and 
get married to such a boob. And without a wedding-dress, too!” 
Her romantic spirit now found peace till several years later. 
She turned her mind, now freed from love-entanglements, to her 
stenographic course, and was graduated with honors. 
The dream-book, cards, and most of her superstitions had been 
gradually discarded, and by the time she was ready to leave the 
institution, her abnormalities were of the past. 
Not till she was well past her nineteenth year, and had given 
good and sufficient proof of scrupulous honesty in the responsible 
position she had held with the same firm for several years, was she 
told the truth of the ghostly fraud that had been perpetrated upon 
her. 
She admitted at the time that, as she grew older, a doubt now 
and then about her father’s visitation had crossed her mind, but 
she expressed her gratitude for the patience and care that had 
helped her to win her fight. Never, she vowed, would she forget 
to regard honor and honesty as sacred. 
The Result 
Letters selected from correspondence with the girl, from 1915 to 1922: 
November 15,1915. 
My dearest Friend: 
It seems to me impossible that I should want to run to you for 
advice, and find, with a sudden big heartache, that you are miles, 
miles away from that dear spot on W St. I wish you would 
consent that I should come to B and take a position near you. 
Why could n’t I send mother my salary every week? I can’t do 
much with her anyway, as she insists upon having her own way, 
even though it is not at all good for her. 182 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
She is very sick, coughing most of the time, and the doctor wants 
her to go to a Sanatorium; but no, she insists she must go to her 
beloved shop and earn money for herself. Won’t you please write 
her a letter and persuade her to give up working, and go to the 
Sanatorium for a while? You know she always minded you when 
you told her something. 
Jack, Mollie and I, bring into the house $40 every week, and 
don’t you think that this is enough to keep us all going along, with- 
out her having to work in that dingy shop? Mollie likes to have a 
good time and go out with boys, and I often scold her for coming 
home so late at night. Please write her something too; it might 
help some. She has been keeping steady company with the same 
young man, since last summer, and I suspect that she likes him 
very much, though she refuses to tell me. 
Believe me, I’ll be glad when she gets married, as I always have 
to quarrel with her to give most of her salary into the house. I 
never thought it takes so much money to run a home. Is n’t it 
funny that I have to worry about the whole family now? 
Please answer soon. 
Always your devoted Elsie G . 
My dear, dear Friend: May 1916. 
Give us congratulations! 
Mollie is going to be married in two months, and I am so glad 
that I could jump for joy. I am only sorry that you never met 
the young man. He is a grocer, and keeps his shop in a good 
neighborhood, and I think he will make a good living for Mollie. 
Anyway, he likes her and she likes him, so I should worry about 
their future finances! I wish you knew him though and liked him 
— I’d feel a whole lot better about the whole thing then. 
Would it be possible for you to come to the wedding? Oh, how 
I’d like to see you and I have so much to tell you! 
I just got a three-dollar raise per week, and I am very glad, 
because living expenses are getting higher here, and Mollie is not 
going to bring anything more into the house. 
Jack is getting along very well in his engineering work, but 
Arthur is not making out well as a plumber yet. He seems to be 
half asleep all the time, and I am constantly scolding him to wake 
up. Mother is very much better now. At last she is staying at 
home and keeping house, and it does her good. Bertha is going to 
high school and is getting to be quite a young lady. 
My, how the years fly! 
With a barrel of love, 
Your own devoted Elsie G . PILFERERS 
183 
March 11, 1917. 
Dearest Friend: 
You were right as always, and I’m so glad I took your advice 
and spoke to mother first. She did not object even once to Harry, 
though I was terribly afraid she would. I told you that she has 
always been quarreling with his mother ever since I can remember, 
and is always calling her terrible names. It’s like a stone off my 
heart that she is n’t making trouble for me now. 
I am so glad you like Harry and remember him, and think he is 
the right man for me. Don’t I remember what you used to tell me 
about Mr. Right? Well, I am sure now that Harry is the right 
man — and I am so glad you approve of him. It makes me awfully 
happy. 
When would it be convenient for you to come to C ? We 
will arrange the wedding for that time. My friend likes you 
nearly as much as I do. I told him some, not all of the things you 
did for me. I feel terribly ashamed when I think of some things 
sometimes, and can’t bless my father and you enough. 
Do you remember the crazy quilt? By rights, it belongs to me 
as I am really the first of our girls to get married. It’s still on 
exhibit at the Home, and I just hate to ask them for it. Do you 
think it would be all right if I just mentioned the matter to our 
old sewing teacher, and asked her to sort of take it up with the 
right people? 
Yours with lots of love and devotion, 
Elsie G . 
October 4,1918. 
My dearest Friend: 
This is the first time I am permitted to sit up since it happened, 
and after much pleading, they finally consented to let me write a 
few words to you. 
I am the Mother of the Finest, Darlingest Baby Boy in the World 
— and I am so happy! 
He is named after my father, L G , may his dear soul 
rest in peace! 
Think how wonderful! — My own baby is just now sleeping 
on that crazy quilt I started so many years ago! 
Your very happy, happy 
Elsie G. B . 184 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
December 27, 1919. 
Dearest Friend: 
We are just over the Christmas rush, and we had a fine season. 
We are all well and happy, and the baby is a splendid boy. I wish 
you could see him. I am so proud of him; he is as bright as a 
bright silver dollar. I think he has my father’s brains, and I am 
praying he should have better luck though. 
Now, mother feels happier since both boys are back from 
France. She was always worrying about them, and never saw the 
postman coming, that she did n’t imagine all sorts of horrors. 
Uncle Sam certainly made a man out of Arthur, and Jack is going 
back to his old firm. Bertha is earning now $20 a week. My 
goodness, I had to work years before I got $15! But then times 
have changed and any kind of a typewriter starts with $10 or $12, 
to-day. I’m not jealous a bit — honest, I’m not! — but it does n’t 
seem right, does it? Things are awfully high here in C . Is it 
the same in B ? 
Mollie has two babies and her husband is doing very well. I'm 
beginning to think we are what is called a successful family, don’t 
you think so? 
Ever your own devoted 
Elsie. 
September 25, 1920. 
My dearest Friend: 
I just felt that I ’ll feel better if I write to you about it. 
Last night I was reading the paper, and came across, for at least 
the tenth time this month, the story of Mrs. K , the Society 
woman, whom the M Co. are suing for stealing. Her lawyers 
claim she should be excused because she is a kleptomaniac, and the 
trial is going on now. It just got hold of me so, you can’t imagine 
— she has disgraced her family and must be heartbroken — what 
is going to happen to her, I wonder? 
It made me think how thankful and grateful I ought to be to my 
dear father first, who because he could n’t take care of me him- 
self here, begged God to send you to me, and then to you, who 
saved me from God knows what. If that woman with all her ad- 
vantages, is where she is now, good God! what would have become 
of me? 
May God bless my dear father’s soul and you! 
Your devoted 
Elsie. PILFERERS 
185 
March 2,1921. 
My dear Friend: 
You will be glad to hear that Bertha is engaged — and to one 
of your boys, J H . I am trying to arrange that they 
should spend their honeymoon somewhere in the East, so that they 
could come to see you. I, too, hope to arrange a trip for myself 
soon — and you can just guess where I am going to come. 
All’s well with the boys, mother, and Co. 
Your 
Elsie. 
Extract from letter, dated February 15, 1922: 
My little girl is just three weeks old. 
Can you imagine me as the mother of a family? Is n’t it all 
too wonderful? Sometimes I can’t realize that I am the same 
Elsie G . But one thing is sure. I’ll never stop praying to 
God that He should be good to me and give me the sense and 
wisdom to bring up my children to be good, honest and happy. CASE B 
PHILIP L , “RAFFLES, Jr.” 
Entered March 4, 1917. Age 13 years 
1. Delinquency 
(а) Pickpocket. 
(б) Member of a gang of thieves. 
(c) Bunking out for days or a week at a time. 
(d) “ Running wild,” and terrorizing the neighborhood with 
petty thefts, breaking windows, and other juvenile mis- 
deeds. 
(e) Persistent truancy. 
2. The School 
(a) Truant. When supposed to be at school, would be in his 
haunts, executing some mischief. 
(b) Very troublesome; disobedient and impertinent. 
(c) When threatened with expulsion, laughed in the princi- 
pal’s face, and coolly remarked, “I just double dare you 
to do it.” 
(d) Stole from the teachers and the pupils. 
(e) Influenced several of his classmates to “hook school” with 
him. 
(/) Several years’ retardation. 
3. Home 
(a) Defiant to parents. Unmanageable and scornful of any 
attempted restraint. 
(b) Stole at every possible opportunity. 
(c) Stayed at home only when hungry, worn out with exces- 
sive wanderings, or in need of clothing. 
(d) Gave vent to violent temper, and constantly abused the 
other children. Used vile language. 
(e) Recognized no authority, and was without supervision of 
any kind. 
4. Society 
(a) Associated with the most troublesome boys of the neigh- 
borhood from earliest childhood, and, later, influenced 
younger boys to join his gang. 
The Peoblem 
186 PILFERERS 
187 
(6) Organized and led frequent depredations against the store- 
keepers in the neighborhood, causing much trouble and 
damage. 
(c) A general nuisance. 
(d) Favorite haunt was the wharf, where he would steal fruit 
being unloaded from ships, and pick the pockets of sailors, 
whom he would direct to saloons. 
(e) Especially fond of picking the pockets of drunkards. 
(/) Several times in the Juvenile Court, on charge of picking 
pockets in crowded street-cars. 
(g) Sold newspapers without a license, and used the papers as 
a means to help him in picking pockets. 
(h) Had been committed for six months to a semi-reformatory 
school. 
(i) Juvenile Court Docket Entry. 
10-8-14. Minor without proper care. Probation officer 
reports that boy has a good mother but a drunken 
father. 
Postponed till December 8. 2-9-15. Benevolent Society 
will look after him. Case dismissed. 
(j) Benevolent Society Record. March, 1915, to 1917. 
“Boy exceedingly troublesome. Is truant from school. 
Steals and bunks out for days. Has been found asleep in 
a wagon with a drunken man.” 
Committed to a disciplinary school, but no improvement 
after his release. 
Dr. P , Probation Officer, suggests reformatory. 
March, 1917, admitted to the Orphanage. 
The Analysis 
1. Physical 
(а) Very poor development. Small in physique, having the 
appearance of a nine-year-old boy. 
(б) Intelligent face, features small and shrewd, eyes dark blue, 
very bright and keen-looking. 
(c) Eight pounds underweight for his height, complexion pale 
and sallow, and very badly neglected teeth. 
(d) No constitutional defect. 
(e) Enlarged tonsils and adenoids. 188 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
2. Mental 
(a) Examination — Psychiatrist’s Report: 
Intelligence: Two years above chronological age. 
Character: Poor hereditary basis. (Father a drunk- 
ard.) Boy’s behavior indicates poor character organi- 
zation, and a neurotic temperament. 
Health: Underheight and underweight. Needs build- 
ing up. 
Impression: A boy in need of good disciplinary training, 
preferably in an institution. 
(b) Personality Traits: 
Inclined to be neat about his person. Tidy habits. 
No sex-tendencies, but anxious to make a favorable 
impression with the girls. 
Likes to be petted and admired. Craves affection, and 
would give his all to one of whom he is fond. 
Very liberal and generous disposition. 
Would admit a wrongdoing and assume entire responsi- 
bility for it, to shield a friend. 
Would lie readily and confess a fault indifferently. 
Pleasure-loving. Very fond of sweets. 
3. Social 
(a) Heredity: 
Father: a carpenter by trade, who made good wages 
when working, but, owing to his habitual drunkenness, 
was frequently out of work, and nearly always penniless. 
He was nervous, irritable, and gave the following reasons 
for drinking: 
First, his wife did not love him, and he had to hide his 
sorrows in drink. 
Second, his employers did not appreciate him sufficiently, 
and he was compelled to drink to forget his disappointment. 
Third, his sons were becoming criminals, and he had to 
find a solace in drinking. 
Fourth, the world displeased him greatly, and he was 
compelled to drink to prevent himself from going insane 
thinking of the wrongs done to innocent people. 
He squandered a dollar as soon as he earned it, and ab- 
solutely felt no responsibility toward his family. When 
not drunk, he was affectionate and gentle to the family, 
and made extravagant promises to reform. He would 
suggest to his wife, at such times, to call at his shop for PILFERERS 
189 
his money before he could receive it. When she did so, 
he would go home and beat her brutally. 
He neglected the children during their early childhood, 
and cruelly abused them till they were old and strong 
enough to defy him. He was rather afraid of his oldest 
son when drunk, and ashamed of him when sober. He 
claimed that he could not understand the boy’s incorrigi- 
bility, as none in his family had ever been “bad”; and he 
always regretted that he was too intoxicated to appear in 
court when either of his sons was apprehended for theft 
or other misconduct. 
He sadly admitted that it was “too bad” he was born 
to be a drunkard, but every man had to be what fate 
decreed for him; and while he should have preferred not 
to drink, still, how could he be expected to fight with an 
adverse fate? He was quite willing that his family should 
be maintained by the Charities, saying rather naively, 
“But they have to be supported somehow.” 
The man had one sister who was normal; she was mar- 
ried and had a family of several children, all apparently 
normal. There were some distant relatives in other cities, 
but they were unable or unwilling to assist him. As far 
as could be learned, they were normal, respected people 
in their respective communities. 
Mother: small in stature, delicate in appearance; was 
a quiet, unassuming, and retiring little creature. 
Her character was very pliable and had been moulded 
to the will of her husband, who completely dominated her. 
He used “to like to take a drink” before their marriage, 
but he had promised her that, when she became his wife, 
he would give up drinking. She never was quite able to 
comprehend how it happened that he had not kept his 
promise to her, and wondered passively whether she was 
not in some way to blame. Devoted to him and the 
children, she suffered cruelly at his hands. 
Once, acting upon the advice of friendly neighbors who 
sympathized with her, she left her home after a particu- 
larly severe beating administered by her husband, but 
could not stay away from the children, and “was sorry 
for him ”; so she returned too soon for her absence to make 
any appreciable difference to her husband. 
Though her boys were fond of her, she had no influence 
over them, and they refused to accord any respect to her 190 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
wishes or grant her any authority to command their ac- 
tions. She was exceedingly unhappy and miserable, and 
unwisely made confidants of her neighbors, who, while 
they pitied her, yet mercilessly discussed her and her un- 
fortunate affairs. 
She tried to keep her tiny home clean and comfortable, 
and worked very hard to make both ends meet on her 
scanty income. Her boys’ delinquencies caused her pain 
and sorrow, and she was quite anxious to cooperate for 
their welfare. 
Her one known relative, a sister, lived in another city, 
and was of no assistance to her. 
Siblings: Sister, average mentality, fair appearance; 
had been working in a factory since early girlhood, and 
had given part of her salary to her mother, regularly. 
The girl was passive, easily pleased, and apparently 
was satisfied with conditions as they existed in her home, 
as she made no effort either to change or improve them. 
She had had few educational opportunities, was not am- 
bitious for any such advantages, and made little progress 
at her work. 
She took a minor interest in the opposite sex, but made 
poor, ineffectual little attempts to preen up a bit and look 
pretty. 
Like the mother, she lamented the failings of her 
brothers, but was unable to exert any effort for their bene- 
fit or improvement. Her father’s weakness she accepted 
as meekly as her mother did, and was apparently inured 
to the brutal, unfatherly conduct accorded her by that 
parent. 
Brother, two years younger, delinquent and incorrigible; 
was admitted to the Orphanage after various commitments 
to disciplinary school and reformatory. (Under “Pilfer- 
ers,” Case C, his history is fully recorded.) 
Youngest brother, fairly bright and intelligent. Too 
young for any definite analysis; appears normal. 
(6) Developmental: 
He had been a very small and sickly baby, prematurely 
born. His father’s ill-treatment of his mother during 
pregnancy may have hastened his birth. He had colic, 
convulsions, infantile disorders, and was not expected to 
survive. After three months, he was bottle-fed. 
His early childhood was a series of contagious diseases, PILFERERS 
191 
which, his mother said, “he picked up one after the other.” 
The father’s drunkenness was undoubtedly responsible for 
the delicacy of the child, who in his mother’s arms was 
frequently carried to various saloons in search of the 
father, or to different neighbors’ homes, where the mother 
poured out her grief. She admitted that she seldom had 
the means to care for the child, who, in consequence, was 
neglected and oftentimes starved. His sister, five years 
older than he, assumed charge of him when his mother 
attempted to supplement the family income with her 
earnings at tailoring, during his infancy. 
As soon as he was able to crawl, he took to the streets, 
and shortly made the acquaintance of older boys who 
taught him to pick pockets and utilized him for that 
purpose. His small size and nimble fingers were soon 
recognized as specially desirable adjuncts to the gang, and 
he was promoted to a certain leadership, in which he 
gloried. He influenced his younger brother and the other 
boys in the neighborhood to learn his ways and become 
members of his gang. 
Through his father, he became acquainted with a num- 
ber of “drunks,” who were an easy and rich harvest to 
him and his gang. Led by him, the boys would be waiting 
at the corner of the saloon for the staggering drunkard, 
with the remnants of his pay, as their legitimate prey. It 
was considered a delightful lark to handle several drunk- 
ards at one time. As often as not, his father was the 
victim. 
Sent to school at the age of five, he quickly decided that 
he preferred the streets, and neither his mother’s en- 
treaties nor the threats of the school attendance officers 
had any effect upon him. The times he did attend school 
he utilized for pocket-picking from the teachers and pupils. 
At one time, in the principal’s office, awaiting attention for 
misconduct, he very neatly found and carried off her 
purse, almost under her eyes. 
As he grew older, he joined another gang which con- 
tained older and more hardened young reprobates, and 
shortly abandoned his former companions for the benefits 
to be derived from the more experienced associates. 
Under their tutelage, he learned to pick locks with as much 
skill as he could pick pockets, and he preferred their com- 
pany to the others. 192 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
He would now disappear from home for days at a time; 
and when his mother’s anxiety was aroused, she would ap- 
peal to the younger boy, who knew how to hunt him up 
and bring him home. Later, he did the same for his 
brother, who followed his footsteps, and even outdid him 
at times. 
It was the later gang that initiated him into the ad- 
vantages of “wharf life”; and here he flourished, till his 
boldness ultimately brought him in contact with the law. 
He outwitted the probation officers who had him in 
charge, and while he improved at the disciplinary school 
at which he was placed, on his discharge from the institu- 
tion he returned to his former associates and environment 
with a vengeance. 
Had not his last chance been given him at the Orphan- 
age, he would have been sent to the Reformatory till his 
majority. 
(c) Habits and Interests: 
Careful about personal appearance. Quick in move- 
ment, alert in action, and dexterous in obtaining results. 
No interest in sports. Would rather fix a doll for a girl 
than fly a kite. Indifferent to animals. 
Although considerable ill-gotten gains had been squan- 
dered by him, he had no sense of money-value. 
Ready to give up his last cent, and then quite as ready 
to pick a pocket or a lock. 
Very handy with tools and machinery. Showed great 
interest in the fireman’s work, and later, helped to look 
after fires in buildings. 
Very anxious to do anything to avoid attending school. 
Spoke privately with the employees in the house, and re- 
quested them to seek his assistance, so that he might be 
permitted to stay out of school. 
Became great friends with the cook, in hope of becoming 
her kitchen assistant. 
(d) Home Conditions: 
Though the mother had tried in her timid, futile way to 
safeguard the home for the family, her husband’s drunken 
brawls completely minimized her efforts as far as the two 
boys were concerned. The youngsters had neither the 
necessary, wholesome food for their active, growing bodies, 
nor any influence strong enough to keep them from the 
streets, where they spent most of their time. PILFERERS 
193 
The fact that the mother made a pitiful effort to keep 
the home neat and clean meant nothing to the boys, who 
would as soon sleep in or under wagons as in their beds. 
They picked up the manners and language of the street 
gamins, their obscene vocabulary being further reinforced 
during their father’s drunken spells. 
There was some affection existing between the mother 
and her oldest son, but either the attachment was not 
strong enough, or no effort was made to test its strength, 
for the salvation of the boy. In his early childhood, he 
feared his father, who brutally beat him in drunken fury; 
but as he grew older, he espoused his mother’s cause, and 
kept many blows from descending on the poor woman. 
The father feared him, in turn, and would keep away from 
the house when the boy was there. 
The boy resented the neighbors’ knowledge of the 
family’s affairs, and would not brook their interference. 
He would order them from the home, and then seek to get 
even, by some theft from the individual who had dared to 
moralize and sympathize. 
(e) Mental Interests: 
How to manufacture a key that should fit every pos- 
sible lock. 
How to employ electricity to open doors and windows 
noiselessly. 
The Treatment 
The first few days of his stay at the Home were uneventful and 
peaceful. He was obedient, well-mannered, and apparently 
anxious to please. But his first Sunday at the institution was a 
memorable occasion for all within the portals of the place, whether 
as resident or as visitor. Silently, unobtrusively, and skillfully, 
he went from the pocket of the director in the office to that of 
the humble visitor in the children’s hall, and democratically and 
impartially extracted from each whatever contribution his nimble 
fingers could “touch.” Then he made a clean getaway with a 
substantial sum as the result of his prowess. 
The monitor who had been appointed his Big Brother, feeling 
that his absorption in a ball-game held at the Home grounds that 
afternoon had been responsible for the other’s defalcation, ear- 
nestly and thoroughly searched every nook and cranny favored by 
the city’s youthful reprobates. After several days of fruitless 
effort, he pounced upon him after nightfall, in a forsaken lot near 194 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
his home, surrounded by his gang of ragamuffins, who were making 
merry with sandwiches, ice-cream cones, and bottles of pop, and 
enjoying an account of his escapades. 
“Cheese it!” he cried to his comrades, who scampered away, 
like rats to their holes; and then, facing the older boy, who was 
seriously regarding him, he announced, “I was coming to sleep 
there to-night anyway; I ain’t got no more money.” And he 
willingly accompanied his mentor. 
He was brought into the office, much the worse for the wear and 
tear of his wanderings, but otherwise unrepentant and unashamed; 
rather prepared to boast of his exploits. 
“Do you think it right to pick a man’s pocket? How should 
you like to have your pocket picked by somebody?” he was asked. 
He looked up quizzically, his eyes gleaming and his mouth 
puckered in amusement. “I just dare anyone to pick my pocket 
— let me jus’ catch ’im.” 
“What would you do?” 
“Huh?” he queried. “Jus’ won’t let him. I ain’t no duck to 
have my pockets picked. I’m too quick.” With that he turned 
his pockets inside out, and said with a doleful grin, “Ain’t got 
nuthin’ in ’em anyway now.” 
“But you have n’t answered the first question. Do you think 
it right to pick a man’s pocket?” 
He looked thoughtful and evidently perplexed. “Well,” he 
said after a pause, “the man ain’t goin’ to give you the mon’, so 
what’s you goin’ to do about it? ” 
“How about earning it?” 
He screwed up his small face in mockery and laughed outright. 
“Say,” he questioned, “what do you earn a week?” 
Rather a rude question, but he was answered to his satisfaction, 
for he shrugged his shoulders triumphantly and waved his hand 
in derision. “Gee,” he said, in cool, scornful tones, “I can make 
more ’an that in a day. I got a talent in my hands, I tell you,” — 
he flung out his hands and regarded them lovingly, — “they can 
make more money for me than you know. Bet cher life, they’re 
all right.” 
“Who told you about the talent? Who said your hands were 
talented?” 
“That guy in the school said they’re so quick and — I guess I 
forgot that word — s’pose he meant smart, and that they’re 
sintinctly talented that way.” 
Suddenly he leaned across the desk. “’Scuse me,” he said; and 
the next moment, he held up triumphantly the watch that his light PILFERERS 
195 
fingers had “touched,” even before his intentions were realized. 
“You see,” he said, laughing merrily, “how I do it? One! two! 
three! — and it’s gone! Ain’t it some talent? Here, take your 
watch! I don’t want ter keep it — jus’ took it to show you.” 
“For what else have you a talent? Anything you’d like to be 
when you grow up?” 
He scratched his head thoughtfully. “Well,” he ruminated, “I 
guess I got a talent for locks, too. I can make a key for any lock 
made. Want ter see me? You jus’ show me a lock, and I ’ll show 
you how I open it,” he boasted. 
“But what do you want to be when you grow up?” 
“Guess I’ll blow up safes with dynamite, and make lots of 
money and have bully times.” 
“Suppose you’re caught and put in prison, what then?” 
His eyes narrowed and he tossed his head. “But I’m a slick 
one, I am, honest! I ain’t no fool — Wait till I grow up, then they 
can’t catch me.” 
“If you’re slick, how is it they caught you now?” 
“Aw, gee, them blokes can run down the little fellars easy. 
When I’m big, I bet you the cops can’t get me.” 
“All right,” he was told; and then came the question, which, 
unknown to him, held his fate. “Say, how would you like to be 
partners and stay here till you grow up? ” 
His astonishment was plainly manifested in his face. “You 
want ter be my pardner?” he queried, as if not believing his senses. 
“Your partner, son,” was the emphatic reply. 
“Sure thing,” he cried gleefully, and extended a dirty little paw; 
“shake,” he said. 
“Now it’s all arranged,” he was informed very quietly. “You 
stay here till you grow up, and come to your partner every time 
you want to pick a pocket or a lock, and talk it over.” 
There was rather a rueful expression on his face at that. Evi- 
dently instinct warned him of a trap, and for a moment he re- 
pented; but he was a game sport. 
“Sure, you got to do that with pardners,” he said, bravely 
enough. 
A solemn compact was then entered into, by which he bound 
himself to come to his “pardner” when ready to do any “job,” 
and not to run away without due warning. In return, he was to be 
given a good home, plenty of “eats,” and be taught in the manual- 
training classes whatever he liked. 
“In couple of weeks, bet you I’ll know how to make a key for 
all the locks in the world,” was his parting remark, as he left the 
office to be cleaned up and fed. 196 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
The next morning, bright and early, he was in the office. “Say, 
pardner,” said he, “you got lots of junk in that basement. I know 
a place where the geezer will pay you lots of money for that.” 
The “junk” referred to consisted of various supplies left by the 
plumbers who had been working in the basement the previous 
day. 
“All right, son,” he was informed, “if the junk belongs to your 
partner, you may sell it for what you can get from the dealer. 
Let's go down and see.” 
Standing before the “junk,” he was told that, inasmuch as the 
materials lying there belonged to the plumbers, his “pardner” 
did not think it quite right to dispose of them before notifying the 
owners. 
“But they won’t give it ter you. Wait, you see!” he warned. 
Meanwhile, awaiting the arrival of the plumbers, it was sug- 
gested to him to accompany his “pardner” to school. His eyes 
mirrored his indignation and dismay. It was obvious that he 
repented of the bargain into which he had permitted himself to be 
drawn, but loyalty to one’s “pardner” was paramount. “I never 
had a pardner like you,” he observed, as he gravely permitted him- 
self to be persuaded to take the unbeaten track to school; “you’re 
funny. What’s you want ter go to school for? Don’t cher know 
enough?” 
During that sober, conventional walk to the school that morn- 
ing, it was painstakingly explained to him that education assists 
a man in his profession; if he intended to be a pickpocket when 
he grew up, why, a knowledge how to count the money he would 
pick from pockets would undoubtedly rebound to his advantage. 
Further, people would not be able to charge him double the amount 
of a thing because he did not understand figures. 
“That’s so,” he said, thoughtfully; “them darn geezers first 
want to see your junk and then pony up a jit [nickel] for what’s 
worth a buck [a dollar], if you don’t watch out what they hand you 
out. Plenty times they cheated me.” 
“But they never would have done so, if they knew that you 
could count,” he was told. 
“That’s so,” he said again; “but say, pardner, I don’t have to 
stay in the poke [school] all day?” 
“Of course not,” as he gazed up keenly, suspicion and combat 
in his eyes. “The only thing is, that you’re some smart guy, be- 
lieve me, and is there any reason why you can’t win the school 
prize as well as another fellow who is n’t so smart?” 
“Sure thing I can,” he said heartily; “got to dig [study].” PILFERERS 
197 
By dint of careful reasoning, that it would be a remarkable 
thing for him to show all those who did n’t believe that he could, 
if he wanted, carry off honors in school, as readily as he carried off 
the contents of pockets, and that learning would enable him to 
get even “with them skinners,” he reluctantly consented to give 
the matter a “try out.” 
He was placed in the ungraded class, under the charge of a very 
able and well-trained teacher, and his Big Brother was instructed 
to call for him and accompany him home. “Watch out for that 
junk!” was his good-bye to his “pardner.” 
That day in school was a sad one for his conceit. “Say,” he 
confided regretfully, “them little guys know more ’an me.” 
“Going to let them get ahead of you, eh?” 
“Nix on the job,” he fired back; “I’ll show ’em.” 
He left for a game of ball in the playground, but returned almost 
immediately. “What did I tell you?” he queried angrily. “Them 
plumbers don’t want to give their junk away.” 
“Let them keep their old junk then. You just show those fel- 
lows in school you can win the prize away from them, and you 
and your partner will go downtown and have some good time.” 
“All right, pard, I’m it!” He saluted brightly, smiled, and 
went back to the game interrupted by the tempting “junk.” 
Hardly was the game over, when the manual-training shops 
awaited him. Here he felt quite at home and was busy and con- 
tented. He showed a marked predilection for printing, which was 
immediately utilized for his benefit. 
For several weeks he was not left a moment to himself, though 
he was kept unaware that the constant supervision was intentional. 
He, at first thought, regarded his Big Brother, who was his shadow, 
as a necessary institutional evil; and later, became fond of the 
fine, wholesome boy who was his friend and comrade. Two or 
three times a day, he would glide into the office with suggestions 
of various “jobs” to be done. Always a lengthy argument would 
follow about the inadvisability of “hooking” school or a class 
because of a “job that was n’t worth while at all.” 
“But I’ll lose my talent in my fingers if I stop for a long time,” 
he protested. 
“Nonsense! Give your fingers a rest and they’ll grow stronger 
and bigger to do whatever you want them,” he was told. 
Temptations however assailed him so strongly that several 
times he managed to elude vigilance and run away for a day or 
two. Then he would return, himself, come very quietly and shame- 
facedly into the office, and seek pardon most humbly. “ You know, 198 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
pardner,” he would say apologetically, “it’s not right to do a job 
without you — but you’re a funny kind of a pardner, anyway.” 
Long private conferences and walks would ensue, during which 
a moral sense of right and justice would be brought home clearly 
to him. His affection for his mother was noticed, and that excel- 
lent quality was used as an additional means to work upon his 
character. His mother’s hard lot in life was fully presented to 
him. It aroused his sympathy, and he expressed himself as will- 
ing to do anything to lighten her burdens. When it was forcibly 
presented to him that having a pickpocket for a son would be even 
a greater tragedy to her than having a drunkard for a husband, 
he blinked in amazement and blurted out, “Why, I won’t ever 
beat her like him. You don’t get drunk when you are a pick- 
pocket.” 
As the most convincing proof of his mother’s future agony, in 
case he became an adult pickpocket, the mother was requested to 
come to the office, and in his presence the matter was brought up. 
The poor woman burst into tears, and hoped that death would be 
good to her and take her away from the world before she witnessed 
any such unfortunate ending of her oldest son. 
“Well,” said the boy magnanimously, wiping the tears from her 
eyes and patting her heaving shoulders, “don’t carry on like that. 
If you want to die if I pick pockets, well, all right then, don’t die, 
and honest to God! I’m going to try not to do it.” Then he 
shrugged his small shoulders in surprise. “Funny!” he ejacu- 
lated, “that she did n’t get fits before. She knew I was doing it 
all the time, and she did n’t want to die before. Guess she’s tired 
of them beatings.” 
He responded very favorably to the normal, wholesome influence 
of home thrown about him. Good food, early hours and healthful 
recreation had excellent results upon his physique. He gained 
in weight and seemed stronger. He was allowed to spend much 
of his spare time with the fireman and other employees in the 
building, of whom he was fond. He frequently visited the kitchen 
and assisted the cook in peeling potatoes, paring vegetables and 
sharpening her kitchen knives. At one time, the cook missed 
an old-fashioned gold brooch and suspicion was directed to him. 
Taken into the office and questioned regarding the matter, he 
freely admitted his guilt. 
“When I took it,” he explained, “I meant to take it to the old 
geezer on E St., who met me yesterday in the street and said 
it was a shame such a smart boy like me should be doing nothing 
for a long time. You know he would melt the gold and nobody PILFERERS 
199 
would know something about it; but — I felt that it was n’t right 
— something made me think that I ought to tell you first — and 
I could n’t make up my mind, so I hid the pin, till my heart would 
stop bothering me.” 
He himself returned the pin to the cook with apologies. 
He also liked to be sent on errands, and would at first return 
with his pockets laden with ill-gotten goods; but subsequently, 
he vouchsafed the information that he would turn back to the 
stores and disgorge his pockets, “with them loons [the shop- 
keepers] knowing nothing about it.” 
In school he won the monthly prize given by the principal to 
the best student of the ungraded class, and of course was feted 
downtown and taken to a theatre. He enjoyed the treat im- 
mensely and remarked, “Say, it’s bully to be a swell guy.” In 
three years he reached the Sixth Grade, and as he had manifested 
great interest in the printing plant, and had actually been one of 
the leading printers on the monthly publication of the Home, it 
was decided to permit him to take up printing, with the view of 
turning his avocation into a future trade for him. 
He was offered a mechanical training in a technical school, and 
joyously wanted the opportunity, till he was informed that he 
would have to be graduated from the public school, in which he 
still had two years’ work before him. He hesitated and avowed 
his aversion to continue schooling. “What’s the use?” he asked; 
“I’ll never be a teacher anyhow; and besides, I don’t want to be 
a teacher and bother my head with lots of stupid kids. I’d rather 
anyhow be a printer and make money doing good jobs.” As these 
jobs were decidedly to be preferred to his former “jobs,” he was 
encouraged at the vocation he had selected; and on his sixteenth 
birthday, he announced, “Now I’m ready to start in the world 
for myself like Benjamin Franklin.” With the latter as an ex- 
ample and guide, there were no further doubts entertained about 
his future. 
He had not taken kindly to games and sports, but had mani- 
fested a rather tame interest in the Scouts, which, after a while, 
became stronger; and after a year had passed without any out- 
break on his part, he was permitted to join the Scout Troop. 
Returning from a hike one day, he complained that he felt unwell, 
and came down with influenza, which was then ravaging the city. 
During his illness, he was given every possible care and attention, 
for which he felt both gratitude and amazement. “Say, partner” 
(it had become partner instead of “pardner”), “you know, I’ve 
been thinking an awful lot while I lay here. Everybody has been 200 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
so good to me and been doing and making things for me, and I 
giving them so much trouble and bother, I guess it pays to be good; 
I don’t suppose anybody would care whether a pickpocket lived 
or tossed the bucket. I guess no pickpocket for me ever.” 
Some time before, his younger brother had been admitted to the 
Home, and was now duplicating the elder’s former exploits. He 
was genuinely grieved and concerned about the boy’s delin- 
quencies, and would frequently argue and plead with his brother 
to behave himself. Often, he took the law into his own hands, and 
administered a beating to the culprit, who would calmly assert, 
“Aw, chee, I’m not badder ’n you were.” This never failed to 
enrage him, and he would expostulate long and volubly. He would 
then come into the office, sad and weary, and would remark hope- 
fully, “Well, you see he is very young and has no sense. When he 
gets older, he would n’t be so foolish.” He was the Big Brother 
assigned to the boy; and it may be said for him that he performed 
his duty most conscientiously and faithfully. 
It was the printing instructor who announced that the boy was 
able to work as a full-fledged printer, and it was he who assisted 
him to procure his first job as a printer’s assistant. He earned a 
small salary for several months, and was retained at the Home till 
his earning capacity would permit him to return to his own home 
and assist in the support of his mother. Before he had been em- 
ployed a year, he was earning $15 a week. 
“Good-bye, partner, thank you!” he said to the Superintendent 
when the latter parted from him. 
The Result 
When he left the Orphanage, he had $200 that he had saved from 
his salaries, and he informed his mother that “now good times are 
coming for you.” He sought and found a small apartment in a 
better neighborhood, undertaking to pay the rental himself; 
purchased some new furniture, which was sorely needed; and in- 
formed his father that now things would be changed and, if he 
wanted to remain at home, he must simply give up drinking. 
The father, frightened and greatly intimidated by the deter- 
mined action of his oldest son, promised. Fortunately for him, 
as well as for the members of his family, prohibition coming into 
effect, he was perhaps better able to keep the promise he had been 
forced to give. Also, the son took it upon himself to see that the 
father was employed at his trade of carpentering, with the happy 
result that the mother was able, for the first time in her life, to 
realize her hope of a home. PILFERERS 
201 
In March, 1922, a letter received by the “pardner” from the 
boy, stated that “things were just swell.” In view of the fact that 
he was now employed in a printing-shop, the boy was in receipt of 
a higher salary, and asked his friend whether he did n’t approve 
of his contemplated plan to keep his father to the straight and 
narrow path, by offering to purchase a home for the parents. 
“You see,” he writes, “my old man now sees that he made a big 
mistake all his life and wants to be a man now. If he’ll know that 
I stop paying for the house the moment he breaks his word, I 
guess that will keep him right, don’t you think so?” 
He has been living at home, giving his salary to his mother, and 
trying his utmost to create and maintain a home for the benefit 
of the entire family. CASE C 
OTTO L , “A STRAGGLER” 
(Brother of Philip L ) 
Entered December 15, 1917. Age 11 years 
The Peoblem 
1. Delinquency 
(a) Stealing at every possible opportunity. 
(b) Member of a gang of evil-doers and pickpockets, and com- 
pletely under its influence and control. 
(c) Stealing from market-stalls and fruit-stands, and selling 
what he could. 
(d) Offering assistance to hucksters, for the purpose of steal- 
ing from them. 
(e) Incorrigible liar. 
(f) Bunking out for weeks at a time. 
(g) Smoking cigarettes and the butts of cigars found in the 
streets. 
(h) Using vile and obscene language. 
2. The School 
(а) Constant truancy. 
(б) Defiant to school attendance officers and teachers. 
(c) Evil influence on other children. 
(d) Inattentive, disorderly, and disobedient. 
(e) Several years’ retardation. 
3. Home 
(а) Audacious and unmanageable. 
(б) Objectionable language to mother and younger brother. 
(c) Stealing from parents, and keeping change when sent on 
errand by mother, or a neighbor. 
(d) No feeling of responsibility, desire for affection, or interest 
in home displayed. 
4. Society 
(а) Completely under the dominion of his gang, he obeyed its 
dictates implicitly. 
(б) No leadership ability; blindly followed the commands of 
the stronger will influencing him at the time. 
202 PILFERERS 
203 
(c) Antagonistic to neighbors, upon whose cash-boxes he set 
the gang, while he hid and watched depredations. 
(d) Would frequently act as “stool-pigeon” for his friends. 
(e) Would help his brother in attacks upon his father and 
other “drunks.” 
(/) In Juvenile Court three times from 1916 to 1917. 
10- Charged with being habitual and incorrigible 
truant. Committed to the P School (semi-reforma- 
tory). 
11- Minor without proper care. Had tramped for 
weeks and run away to Philadelphia. Committed to the 
Children’s Bureau. 
11-29-17. Minor without proper care. The boy had 
been committed to the Children’s Bureau. He stole 
money and ran away from the institution in which he was 
placed. He was then given to his parents, from whom 
he also stole and ran away. Mother asks commitment. 
Sent to the Orphanage. 
The Analysis 
1. Physical 
(а) Fine physical specimen. Several inches taller than older 
brother and fifteen pounds more in weight. 
(б) Light brown hair, very fair complexion, bright blue eyes, 
and freckled face. Small features. 
(c) Well-developed, sturdy, and strong hands with a power- 
ful grip. 
(d) Good vision. No tonsils or adenoids. 
2. Mental 
(a) Examination — Psychiatrist’s Report, November, 1917: 
Intelligence: Essentially normal. I. C. .94. 
Character: Poor hereditary basis. (Father drunkard.) 
Health: Essentially normal. 
Impression: Poor environment undoubtedly responsible 
for boy’s poor behavior. Would recommend that he 
be placed in a good private home in the suburbs and 
supervised as much as possible. 
(b) Personality Traits: 
Cheerful, pleasant, and easy-going. 
Will tell a lie — eyes wide-open, clear, and frank, as- 
sisting him in his declaration that he is being wrongly 
accused. 204 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
Untidy in person and strenuously objects to enforced 
ablutions. 
Readily makes promises, and as readily breaks them. 
Easily influenced by anyone who cares to take the 
trouble to lead him. 
Very obliging disposition, and always prepared to 
answer any call upon his services. 
Fond of good times and likes “plenty of eats.” 
3. Social 
(a) Heredity: Same as Case B. 
(&) Developmental: 
He had been a large baby at birth, weight ten pounds, 
in marked contradistinction to his older brother, who had 
been a puny weakling. The mother said that he had been 
no trouble at all — “he just raised himself.” He had been 
weaned early, but “ate and drank everything, even beer,” 
according to the information given by his eldest sister, 
who, in the main, had been entrusted with his care during 
infancy. 
He never “caught sicknesses” like his brother, and even 
failed to be affected by the latter’s contagious ailments, 
though he had been intentionally put into the same bed 
by the mother, who believed that, since a child had to have 
the “children’s diseases,” it would be best for the two 
boys to have them at the same time and be done with 
them. 
Like his brother, he took to the streets as soon as he could 
crawl, and very early became a disciple of the various 
“gangs” and loafers that infested the neighborhood. 
It was his brother who initiated him in wrongdoing, 
but, unlike the latter, he had no leadership ability. He 
was the willing and easy tool of any juvenile reprobate, 
younger or older than he, who chose to make use of him, 
and at no time took the initiative in any contemplated 
mischief. 
Unlike his brother, he had no affection for his mother, 
who showed more partiality to him, by reason of his attrac- 
tive appearance, in which she took great pride. He ap- 
peared to have more influence with the father than any of 
the other members of the family, and the paternal parent 
showed his special liking to the boy by taking him to his PILFERERS 
205 
favorite saloon and there regaling him with his favorite 
drinks. 
At the age of eight, he was exceedingly troublesome 
and difficult at home; and a year later, in 1915, his mother 
found it necessary to report him to the Children’s Bureau 
as incorrigible. He was put under probation, but con- 
tinued to steal and remain away from home for nights 
at a time. 
In October, 1916, he was committed to a disciplinary 
school, where he remained for nearly a year. On his return 
home, he resumed all his former activities and associations 
with avidity, his wrongdoings becoming so numerous and 
glaring, that he was brought before the Juvenile Court 
for the third time, at the age of eleven. 
He was given a chance in the Orphanage, where his 
brother was at that time showing marked improvement. 
(c) Habits and Interests: 
Constantly pleading to go on errands, appropriating any 
money given him, and bunking out. 
Always ready with a plausible lie in explanation of any 
wrongdoing or misdemeanor. 
Has a mania for tramping. 
Would seek divers ways and means of avoiding attend- 
ance at school, the favorite method being to ask “to leave 
the room,” which, being granted, would mean a leave- 
taking for several days. 
Liked to look for deliveries made by the baker and fruit- 
vender, and steal from the wagon, while the men were 
busy. Would offer to watch the horse and wagon while 
the delivery was being made; which offer, being accepted, 
would result in much stolen booty, later sold throughout 
the neighborhood at a fraction of its cost to the legitimate 
owner. 
None of his brother’s interest in mechanical things. 
Mopping the floors attracted him, nothing else. 
No sex-tendencies. 
Cruel to animals. 
(d) Home Conditions: 
Same as in Case B. 
(e) Mental Interests: 
None. 206 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
The Treatment 
It was indeed a very interesting and human procession that 
wound its way through the crowded streets, closely following and 
exhorting him, in its own choice vernacular, not to yield to any 
wiles that might be exerted upon him, but to remain faithful and 
loyal to the “gang.” 
Escorted by the dismayed young social worker, who vainly 
employed moral suasion to disperse his allies, he walked proudly 
to the Orphanage, pledging his allegiance to his friends, and giving 
scant heed to the anxious pleas of the worker and the threats 
uttered weakly and uselessly by his mother. The unhappy crea- 
ture had petitioned the Judge to send him to the Orphanage, to 
be with his brother, instead of to the Reformatory, as His Honor 
had contemplated, in view of his record and latest exploits; and 
for several days she had assisted the social worker in the search 
for him throughout the city. 
When, at last, he had been unearthed among his friends, the 
mother and the worker had much ado to get the consent of those 
worthies to permit him to accompany them to his new home. It 
was only the threat of arrest by a good-natured policeman, who 
providentially hove in sight, and was appealed to by the dis- 
tracted worker, that prevailed upon the “gang” to permit him to 
depart. As it was, he was joined from various nooks and corners 
by divers comrades, till he had quite a following dogging his foot- 
steps and watching an opportunity to effect a rescue in his behalf. 
The worker holding tightly to his arm and leading the pro- 
cession, and his mother struggling in the rear to scatter the young 
rascals by calling them such “fearful” names as loafers, bums, 
and tramps, and advising them to “git away or ye’ll go to jail,” 
formed a spectacle as unique as it was interesting. As the line of 
yoimg rapscallions neared the Orphanage, there was a sudden 
quick rush around the “hero” of the occasion, by the members of 
the “gang,” and he would probably have left his frantic mother 
and the equally frantic worker to bear each other company right 
there and then, had not the irascible old doctor of the neighbor- 
hood appeared upon the scene. 
That gentleman, living next door to the institution, was at once 
the avowed friend and enemy of all boys in general, and those who 
both loved and mocked him across his fence, and from his tree- 
tops, in particular. He sized up the situation in his own way, grew 
red and angry, raised his stout cane, and pommeled indiscrimi- 
nately the youngsters within its range, to the tune of “Now, you 
young villains, will you behave yourselves!” PILFERERS 
207 
“Hey, Dippy, cheese it!” yelled a voice, the good doctor de- 
clared, from somewhere over his head; and in a twinkling, “Dippy” 
and his followers were flying in all directions, while the distressed 
young worker was expressing her gratitude to the “man sent by 
God,” as the mother insisted. 
With one hand brandishing his cane and the other holding to 
the ear of the youth who but for him would now have been a free 
agent, the doctor came puffing and panting into the office, and an- 
nounced, “If this young rascal thinks I am going to tolerate a bad 
boy around here, he is very much mistaken. Just let me catch 
him in my yard.” Then in an undertone, “Fine little chap, that! 
Hope he turns out all right. That gang of ragamuffins would have 
got him, had n’t I chanced along. Glad he’s getting a chance — 
wish those other little devils could, too!” And the doctor, suddenly 
recollecting the call to which he had been hastening, departed, 
after admonishing the lad not to think of picking any of the apples 
from his trees without receiving permission first. 
“Chee, yer got apples?” was the only retort made by the young- 
ster, his eyes shining in anticipation of imaginary feasts. 
His mother, now bursting into violent sobs, besought him to be 
a good boy, not to run away, to have mercy upon her broken 
heart, and so forth, to which he responded with a sharp, curt, 
“Aw, shut yer trap!” 
The young worker, shocked at such unfilial conduct, impetuously 
cried out in remonstrance, and lectured him on the error of his 
ways; to which he replied indifferently, “Say, yer mind yer own 
durned business.” 
“Well, young man, if that’s the way you speak to people, it 
does n’t seem that we’re going to be friends,” he was informed, in 
very cool, deliberate tones. 
He spun round like a top. “Yer wanta be friends with me?” 
he questioned. 
“Why not?” 
He disdained to make an answer, but asked a question himself. 
“Are yer the boss here?” 
“Why do you ask?” 
“’Cause I wanta know the boss.” 
“What for?” 
“’Cause I wanta know ’im,” he insisted. 
“And when you do know him, what then?” 
“I wanta see if I’ll like him.” 
“Suppose you don’t like him; what will you do then?” 
“Dunno,” he shrugged his shoulders carelessly; “I’ll ask 
Dippy — he’s smart.” 208 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
“What will you do if you do like the boss?” 
“Aw right, let ’im be friends with me an’ Dippy.” 
“Well, look! Now do you like the boss?” 
He looked with a keen, appraising glance, which seemed to size 
up and judge everything and everybody in the office, and then 
countered with another question. 
“Say, do yer lick boys that ’re bad?” 
Before a reply could be framed, his mother suddenly broke 
silence, and burst out incoherently, “That’s it! That’s it! All 
he is afraid of is a licking. Just give him a good licking, please, 
and — ” 
“Say, why don’t yer dry up? Shut yer trap, I ’ready tol’ yer,” 
her son interrupted, with a dark frown. 
“Seems that your mother is right, young man. Perhaps a good 
licking might teach you to be respectful to your mother,” he was 
told, in a severe voice. 
“ Got ’nuff lickings ’ready,” he replied sulking. 
“Not enough, not enough,” put in his mother. 
“Aw, say,” — He checked the invectives upon his lips and 
looked rather frightened. Then, in a meeker tone, he addressed 
the “boss”: “But I didn’t do nuthin’ to yer.” His voice was 
decidedly conciliatory. 
He was still afraid of a licking, despite the many to which he 
artlessly confessed. 
“Do you think it’s nothing to have to listen to you saying 
nasty things to your mother and this young lady?” he was asked. 
He looked from one to the other; he was evidently puzzled. 
“ ’Twas n’t ter yer. How’d it hurt yer? ” he queried in his amaze- 
ment. 
“A man is not a gentleman who listens to a fellow insulting 
ladies and does not give him a licking for that.” 
“Aw, but they ’suited me; they mixed in my business,” he 
pleaded in extenuation. 
“Your mother has a right to mix in your business, and the 
young lady did not insult you when she told you how badly you 
were behaving to your mother,” he was informed, to his apparent 
discomfiture. Obviously, he was afraid that a licking would be 
administered to him to avenge the ladies, and he was greatly 
distressed at the thought. 
He hung his head and attempted to avert the punishment he 
deemed to be hovering over him, by extravagant promises for 
future good behavior and fervent oaths never to “speak mean to 
no ladies no more.” PILFERERS 
209 
Requested to ask his mother’s and the worker’s pardon for the 
discourtesy he had shown them, he obeyed with an alacrity that 
boded ill for the permanence of his vows. He was manifestly too 
eager to do as requested, and avoid punishment, for any moral 
influence to accrue to him from the incident. 
“Say,” he apologized to the young worker, “I’m dreadful 
sorry I tol’ yer to mind yer own business; yer don’t need ter, if 
yer don’t wanta.” Then, turning to his mother with a scowl, 
“I’m not gonna say bad things ter yer any more if yer stop jab- 
bering and limme alone.” Then, wheeling quickly about, “Yer 
not gonna give me a licking now? ” 
His mother shook her head in disapproval. “If he gets off so 
easy, he’ll be something awful,” was her warning. 
He turned hastily to her. “Aw—he began, and stopped, 
hanging his head. 
He made his adieus to his parent with a sorry grace, and was 
taken upstairs for a cleaning up, protesting and avowing his de- 
termination to run away, “so it’s no use fixin’ me up.” His 
brother, evidently ashamed of his behavior and very much an- 
noyed, came into the office, crestfallen and embarrassed, very 
anxious to say something, but not knowing just what would be 
appropriate for the occasion. 
Being encouraged, he said apologetically, “I guess I’m afraid 
he’s worser’n I ever was. He’s some tough guy, believe me!” 
He coughed uncomfortably and managed to blurt out at last, 
“Want me to give ’im a licking?” 
The offer was accepted with apparent gratitude and thanks, 
but it was carefully explained to the “Big Brother,” who, in real- 
ity, was several inches shorter, and frail in comparison to the 
sturdy youngster, that different ways and means would have to 
be found in dealing with his brother. 
“All right,” he said, with a deep sigh, “I’ll talk to him, but I’m 
afraid it’s not going to do good; he’s too tough.” 
The older boy took his responsibility as Big Brother in fact, and 
also by appointment, with grave earnestness. It was he who 
lectured and watched over the boy, and, when discouraged, would 
come into the office dragging the youngster after him, and lodge 
his complaint. 
“I talk to him and I talk to him,” he bitterly lamented on one 
occasion, “and I might just as well talk to the dog, who would 
have more sense and listen to me, I’m sure. He ran away four 
times this week to his friends — ” 
“Aw, they’re your friends too,” interrupted the boy. 210 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
“Keep still,” returned the other, with an angry shake of the 
head; “I got nothin’ to do with them no more.” Then he con- 
tinued: “And I found Dippy telling him to rob that store, so I 
punched his nose and made him come home.” 
He had kept his threat to “run away,” and had been “on the 
run” for the first month of his stay in the institution. Again and 
again, upon his return, which was always forced, never voluntary, 
he would reiterate his promise to be “a good boy and not run 
’way no more,” and would, with tears and entreaties, seek to 
ward off the threatened punishment of a licking, which he greatly 
feared. 
In school he had been started in the First Grade, as, despite 
his really good intellect and the time spent in the disciplinary 
school, he was hardly able to read and write. It was with great 
difficulty on the part of the teacher, who took infinite pains with 
him, and by promises of the “good times” that he liked, at the 
Home, that ultimately he learned to go straight to school, without 
suddenly side-stepping on the way, and disappearing, till sought 
for and found by his brother. 
He was not interested in the manual-training classes or in any 
of the other activities that engrossed the boys. Games and sports 
offered no inducement to him. He did evince a certain desire to 
become a Scout; and when asked for the reason, said that it would 
give him a chance to go “tramping.” Pressed to tell why he loved 
to “tramp,” he told how easy it was to go to the “farmer ladies,” 
and get money and goodies from them. “All yer have to tell ’em 
is that yer’re a poor boy with a stepmother who beats yer, and yer 
father drinks, and yer had to run away from home; and yer have 
some good time, believe me!” 
He was promised “good times” without the necessity of tramp- 
ing for them, if his conduct came up to the standard. He gradually 
permitted himself to respect and obey those in authority, but re- 
fused to recognize the right of any person to be respected who, 
according to his estimate, occupied an inferior position, or who, 
according to his theory, did not dress in accordance with the part. 
Once he was brought into the office by the incensed matron, 
who complained that he had employed disrespectful language 
when requested by her to leave the dining-room, which he had 
insisted upon turning into a play-room for several of his friends 
and himself. 
“Why should I respect her?” he asked in shocked self-defense. 
“She’s only a maid.” 
It took time and patience to impress upon him the importance PILFERERS 
211 
of a more democratic spirit. Finally, tired of the argument but 
still not convinced, he reverted to the cause of the dispute, and 
said, still remonstrating, “ If she ain’t a maid, she has no business 
to wear a plain dress like a maid, anyhow.” 
There was in him always the desire to find and submit to a 
master; but should the master relax vigilance and permit someone 
else to gain ascendancy over his mind, then he would, as readily 
as not, cease to recognize him as a master. While his mind was 
very fertile with schemes and plans for mischief, he himself never 
took the initiative in their execution; always there was some 
stronger will directing and influencing his actions. 
Finding that his brother, despite his willingness and earnest- 
ness, was unable to sway him directly, another boy, one of the 
trusted and proved monitors, was put in immediate charge of him. 
This boy was with him always, and in time succeeded in gaining 
his confidence and respect. To him he once confided: “Honest, 
I did n’t want to steal the perfume from the drug-store, but some- 
thing came to me and said to me, ‘ Go on and don’t be a big fool, 
and take it! ’ so I could n’t help myself and, before I knew it, the 
drug-store man was not looking, and the bottle got into my pocket.” 
He was very fond of tramping to the nearest city, a distance of 
fifty miles, and when worn out with walking, would get a ride in 
a wagon, an automobile, or even a train, by means of a piteous, 
well-concocted story of the sufferings and beatings he had at home, 
and the necessity for his running away to the other city, where his 
own mother’s sister would love and care for him. Always he was 
rewarded with sympathy and pity and the more substantial offer- 
ings of money which he desired. Upon his return from such a trip, 
he said, “People are big fools; they believe what you tell ’em.” 
After his wanderings, he would be kept in bed as a punishment, 
for several days at a time, and that seemed to him the hardest 
possible lot in life. He would plead to be pardoned, and pray “to 
be killed” if ever he should indulge in a runaway escapade again. 
Depriving him of the treats he loved also had the effect of 
reaching his vulnerable part; and being compelled to abstain from 
his favorite “eats” nearly broke his heart. As he was slowly 
weaned away from his former gang, which had been no idle or 
petty force to deal with during his early days at the Orphanage, 
he became more tractable and less antagonistic to his elders and 
supervisors. The fact that several of the older members of his 
gang had been apprehended by the police, and were serving terms 
for their wrongdoings, was presented to him in all its drab 
and forbidding possibilities. Contrasts were pointed out to him in 212 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
the happy, promising lives of the boys in the Home, his brother’s 
included. 
As Scouting seemed the chief interest his mind could conceive, 
every effort was made to arouse his desire to become a Scout. At 
first all endeavors were fruitless; but when the Scouts returned 
from a hike, with enthusiastic descriptions of their adventures and 
pleasures, and impatiently awaited the arrival of the next one, he 
strolled into the office, and requested most ardently to be permitted 
to “be a Scout, too.” 
He was put on six months’ probation, as his brother had been. 
If at the end of that time, he showed positive improvement, he 
should be permitted to join the Junior Scouts. 
He did try desperately. Not once did he leave the building 
without permission or flagrantly break any rules. He did purloin 
the teacher’s purse from her desk, but on the way home felt that 
he had done wrong, and turned back and himself delivered the 
purse to the teacher, to her consternation and utter amazement. 
He had improved in school, meanwhile, and was promoted to a 
higher grade, where he was progressing satisfactorily. 
As the time of his probation was almost ended, he was sent on 
an errand as a test. Before leaving, he had looked intently at the 
five-dollar bill in his hand, and said, “It can’t tell me to do bad 
things no more. I’m not going to steal it.” 
That was in the late afternoon. At midnight he had not re- 
turned and his sorely disappointed mentor was about to retire 
and abandon his watch, when the timid summons of the night-bell, 
being answered, brought to view a weary, foot-sore culprit, cov- 
ered with dust and dirt, perspiring from every pore, and breath- 
ing heavily as if utterly spent. 
From the torn bosom of his blouse, he produced a two-dollar 
bill, and stammered, “It wanted me to spend that, too; but honest 
I said, ‘No, no,’ to it — ‘I want to be a Scout — let me alone!’” 
It appeared that he had been tempted beyond his strength. 
He had, according to his confession, “hitched on to a truck” and 
then jumped on a train and landed in some country district, where, 
hungry and tired, he appealed to the first housewife he could 
find, for food and shelter. The good woman had fed him and pro- 
vided a bed for him, but when he “got up in the middle of the 
night and something told me to swipe the kids’ bank on the shelf 
where I seen her put it, and I wanted to be a Scout so bad, so I 
jumped through the window and — honest! — paid my carfare 
with the fiver, and come home — and please, please — let me be 
a Scout — I won’t be bad again — honest!” PILFERERS 
213 
He was forgiven, but his probation period was lengthened. He 
also sought ways and means of earning three dollars, so that he 
might repay the money he had spent, and succeeded in influencing 
his former foe, the doctor, to permit him to answer telephone calls, 
sweep the yard, mop floors, and shovel snow, for a certain amount 
in payment for his services. He very proudly brought the money 
to the office when he had earned it. 
He was duly enrolled as a Junior Scout, and for a long period 
gave no further trouble, either at the Home or in school. 
Suddenly, out of a clear sky, when his reformation seemed cer- 
tain, and his difficulties were regarded as satisfactorily and per- 
manently adjusted, it was reported that he was missing. 
Several of the monitors remembered seeing a strange and un- 
couth youth in conversation with him the previous afternoon, on 
his way home from school, but had attached no importance to that, 
thinking that the boy was a schoolmate of his. His brother, taken 
into consultation and given a description of the unknown com- 
panion, immediately cried out in dismay, “Why, that’s Dippy! 
He’ll sure get him into trouble now.” 
Investigation revealed that “Dippy,” who was eighteen years 
old and had been an inmate of the Reformatory for the past six 
months, had managed to outwit his supervisor and escape from 
the institution the day previous. Officers were making a careful 
search for him throughout the city. 
Late that night, information was brought that “Dippy” had 
been apprehended and returned to his institution, and that a 
younger boy, who was accompanying him, had, at a few words 
from “Dippy,” flown like an arrow from his side, and before the 
officer could take any action, had disappeared completely from 
view. “Dippy” refused to give the slightest information con- 
cerning the boy. 
Ten days passed before any news was received of the youngster, 
for whom an exhaustive hunt had been made. “Dippy,” when 
seen and appealed to, had closed his strong jaws tightly and re- 
fused even to admit that he knew the name of the boy who had 
been with him at the time of his apprehension. 
Unexpectedly came a wire bringing the following message from 
the runaway: 
“Please come and take me home. They are keeping me here at 
Jail.” 
It was from a country district, about sixty miles from the 
city. 
A hasty visit was made to the Jail, and the unpleasant discovery 214 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
followed, that his excellent conduct for more than a year had suf- 
fered a most unfortunate and serious relapse. 
It was learned that he had boarded a train leaving the city, clad 
in his Scout uniform and absolutely penniless. When the con- 
ductor came for his fare, he cried bitterly and told a sad story of 
a dying mother who wanted to see him, and whom he was trying 
to get to before she died. He aroused the sympathy of the pas- 
sengers and the conductor, and the money was raised among them 
for his fare. Then he was landed in the country town that he said 
he wanted to go to. 
Here he applied to a farmer for a job, telling a pitiful tale of 
the cruelty and suffering he had had to bear from a wicked step- 
mother, till he was compelled to run away from home; and as the 
farmer was both anxious to secure help and to assist the “poor 
boy” at the same time, he employed him at eight dollars a week 
and his full keep. As the boy was large and well developed, the 
farmer readily believed he was of the age — fifteen years — that 
he claimed. 
For the following three days, both the farmer and his wife 
thought that, by some miracle, they had been sent a gem; but 
when, on arising on the morning of the fourth day, they discovered 
that twenty-three dollars and the “gem” were missing, they 
abruptly changed their minds. 
While they were hunting for him, the boy jumped on the train, 
and was taken to the next county, where he again found an un- 
suspecting, generous employer, whom also he victimized, and then 
proceeded to repeat his interesting experiences in the next town 
to which he had tramped. 
Unfortunately for him, however, this time he landed in the 
house of the sheriff of the town, and through the sympathy he 
aroused by a most harrowing tale that he told to the sheriff’s wife, 
was admitted to the home. 
That evening at supper, the sheriff asked his young guest re- 
garding his previous whereabouts, and was regaled with the infor- 
mation that the boy had been an inmate of an institution where he 
had been beaten and starved till he could stand it no longer, and 
was compelled to run away. As he was very anxious to work and 
make his own living, he would be most thankful for any kind of 
work, no matter how hard and difficult. 
But the sheriff had been eying the rather new scout uniform 
and the fine, sturdy body which it clad. “You don’t look starved, 
sonny, and that’s a mighty fine suit you got on,” he said. PILFERERS 
215 
Nothing daunted, the boy told a story of his father dying and 
leaving him some money with which he had been purchasing food 
and clothes, unknown to the brutal institution; and to prove the 
truth of his statements, produced a roll of bills, which he said was 
the remnant left him of his father’s fortune. 
The bills aroused the sheriff’s suspicions and he watched the 
boy intently. When all was still at night, the sheriff, hearing a 
slight noise in the boy’s room, lay awake listening. Soon he heard 
a soft footstep at his door, which was craftily opened, and the boy 
entered, going directly to the sheriff’s clothes on the chair. The 
boy’s lodgings were immediately transferred to the county jail, 
and the next day, the sheriff, learning of the boy’s latest escapades 
and real address, sent the wire. 
It was a truly repentant boy, with a shamed, hang-dog air, who 
was brought into the small, dingy office of the county jail and 
compelled to face the friend to whom he had begged the sheriff to 
send his message, craving assistance in his plight. 
His sobs were so violent that his body shook with them. “It’s 
all on account of Dippy,” he cried. “I did n’t want to be bad no 
more. But he flew the coop, and he came to see me and he said he 
knew how we could do a job and make lots of money and go away 
for good. And at first something told me not to do it and then 
something said I better do it, and Dippy told me I got to do it, or 
he would go and tell lots of bad things he knows about me — so 
I could n’t help it and I ran away with him. We were going to do 
the job when the cops caught us — and Dippy whistled to me to 
run away — so I run away.” 
“WThy did n’t you run home then?” he was asked. 
“Because I was afraid — and — something told me to run away 
to W and then something told me to take things from the 
farmer and — and — I’m sorry — and I ’ll never be bad no more, 
I swear by God!” 
He continued his pleas and promises on the way home. “Please 
— please give me another chance — please!” he urged continually. 
While it was a mooted question whether or not to give him the 
chance he begged, he settled the matter for himself by again 
yielding to the “something that told me to take it,” and purloining 
from the good doctor who had befriended him a much-prized 
volume, and then attempting to convert it into cash in a pawn- 
shop. The doctor’s name on the fly-leaf was the cause of his sub- 
sequent betrayal. 
In view of these circumstances, it was deemed advisable to com- 216 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
mit him to a disciplinary institution for about a year, and at the 
end of that time, transfer him, either to the Orphanage again, or 
to a properly supervised private home. 
The fact that he had been able to withstand temptation for a 
long period indubitably attested to the possibility that wholesome 
environment and proper discipline might in time enable him to 
cope with temptations successfully and permanently. 
The Result 
On February 27, 1922, in reply to a letter addressed to the 
Superintendent of the disciplinary school to which the boy had 
been sent, requesting information regarding his conduct at the 
present time, the following report was given concerning him: 
“Replying to yours of the 24th inst., would give you the follow- 
ing information in reference to the boy you are interested in: 
“He has worked out very well, and is now paroled and working 
at , at silver-plating, and is getting along very nicely.” CHAPTER V 
CHARACTERIALLY DEFECTIVE 
Case A, Peter E “The Autocrat” 
Case B, Pauline E (Sister of Peter E ) 
“Maggie ” or “Mrs. Jiggs” 
Case C, Anna and Mary J (Sisters) 
“Struck by Lightning” CASE A 
PETER E , “THE AUTOCRAT’’ 
Entered January ij, 1915. Age 18 years 
The Problem 
1. Delinquency 
(a) At age of seven, organized and led a band of tough young- 
sters who terrorized the neighborhood. 
(b) For three years lived in the streets, engaged in fights, 
gambled, and picked pockets. 
(c) Had a violent and ungovernable temper, and when in a 
rage threw the first thing nearest his hand at the one who 
had enraged him. 
(d) Was an incorrigible liar. 
(e) At age of ten, he became bolder, and his petty thefts 
turned into thievery, for which he was finally taken to the 
Juvenile Court by outraged neighbors who had suffered 
from his depredations. 
2. School 
(а) Constant truant. 
(б) Would not concentrate on work; and when reprimanded 
by teacher, would retort with vile words and missiles. 
(c) Retarded three years. 
3. Home 
(a) Could not be controlled by parents. 
(b) Used obscene language and beat the younger children. 
(c) Petty thefts. 
4. Society 
(a) Was hot-headed and a scrapper. 
(b) Was anti-social, and determined to have his own way at all 
hazards, fabricating to save his own back. 
(c) Bullied all younger and weaker children. 
The Analysis 
1. Physical 
(a) Height and weight normal. 
(b) Well nourished; health essentially normal. Normal phys- 
ical development. Proud, erect carriage. 
(c) Perfect specimen of boyhood; handsome; large, dark, and 
intelligent eyes, having a frank and clear gaze. 
219 220 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
2. Mental 
(а) Examination — Psychiatrist’s Report: 
Intelligence: Two years above normal. I. C. 1.15. 
Character: Poor hereditary basis. Neurotic. Violent 
temper. Good mental ability, but no control. 
Health: Normal. 
Impression: Boy is a victim of environment. Wander- 
ing from one institution to another distinctly injuri- 
ous. Is a border-line case, and in need of intelligent, 
careful handling. 
Social information was inadequate to make further sug- 
gestions possible. 
(б) Personality Traits: 
Clever, keen intellect and good general ability. 
Irritable; cruel when crossed in any whim or fancy, and 
very obstinate. 
Vicious at times. 
Exceedingly vain. Audacious and overbearing. 
3. Social 
(a) Heredity: 
Father: with no education or training for any occupa- 
tion or trade, is shiftless, quarrelsome and adjudged 
neurotic. Has made no attempt to provide for family, 
which, since his marriage, has been either assisted or sup- 
ported entirely by the local benevolent organization, for 
nearly twenty years. Has no idea of moral right and ex- 
hibits a vile and nasty temper when thwarted, using 
obscene language freely in presence of the children. 
He is irreligious; will not listen to counsel or advice and 
has no friends. He is practically a pauper, and has never 
made a consistent effort to attain a self-respecting and 
self-supporting position. 
Is notoriously brutal and cruel to his wife and children, 
and is greatly despised and hated by his neighbors, people 
who, in the main, are decent and hard-working. Threw a 
social worker bodily out of the house. 
Is constantly complaining of poor health, which upon 
examination has been disproved. 
Does not hesitate to fabricate and lie when it so suits 
his purposes. 
Mother: is a weak, sickly woman, who has a tubercular 
history. Tuberculosis has been in her family for at least 
a generation. One of her two brothers recently died of CHARACTERIALLY DEFECTIVE 
221 
the disease, and the other is an advanced case and prac- 
tically dying. She herself constantly complains of various 
illnesses, and was twice confined at the Consmnptives, Sana- 
torium, once for the space of a year and the other time for 
five months. She is regarded as an incipient tubercular case. 
During her stay at the hospital, she manifested little 
or no interest in the children. Morally she is a weakling, 
and completely dominated by her husband. 
In her youth, she must have been physically attractive. 
Though faded, worn, and appearing at least fifteen years 
older than her age, some of her features still retain comeli- 
ness. 
She has always been faithful and devoted to her husband. 
Between the years 1896 and 1913, she has borne eight 
living children and has had three miscarriages. 
Siblings: Eldest brother, had unhappy childhood, and 
though living much in the streets, had no definitely known 
career of juvenile misdeeds. Before the age of sixteen, 
however, he developed a strong spirit of Wanderlust, and 
after repeated long wanderings and returns, he finally 
completely disappeared. His present whereabouts, if he 
is living, are unknown. 
Second brother’s childhood and boyhood were a duplicate 
of the older brother’s; but while he too developed Wander- 
lust, he did not succumb to it as the first one had done. 
He was very fortunately attracted by the Navy in- 
stead, which he joined very young, falsifying his age. 
He had a Juvenile Court record. 
Third brother, was mentally defective and died quite 
young at the State Industrial School for Feeble-Minded. 
Younger sister, is hysterical, tubercular, and extraordi- 
narily selfish. 
Her chief interests are the movies and boys. (She is 
“Case B,” fully described in this chapter.) 
Youngest brother, taken into the institution at the age of 
eight. Is mentally normal. Physically tubercular. 
Younger sister, also put into the institution at a very 
early age. Normal physically and mentally. 
Youngest sister, baby, is apparently normal. 
(&) Developmental: 
Was normal 8-pound baby. History uneventful. 
Displayed an unmanageable temper while hardly more 
than an infant. 222 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
Refused to attend school, and at the age of seven was 
an habitual truant and would sell papers. He was con- 
tinually bunking out with a coterie of small street gamins, 
and would defy and resist any influence attempted by the 
probation officers who were interested in the case. 
When thievery finally brought him to the Juvenile 
Court, the Judge, being informed of his home environment, 
committed him to an institution for dependent children. 
Here, for the first time in his life under restraint and 
discipline, he became so rebellious and violent, that the 
Superintendent reported him extremely troublesome, an 
evil influence to the other children, and craved to be re- 
lieved of the youngster. He advised a mental examination. 
The Probation Officer had him examined at the Psychi- 
atric Clinic and claimed that the boy was found to be 
bright, but showing signs of abnormality. He was then 
assigned to several institutions, one after the other, as 
each institution asked to be relieved of the small mis- 
creant soon after his arrival. 
Then Dr. C , the psychiatrist, who had examined 
him and was interested in him, felt that he should be given 
another opportunity to make good at home, and requested 
that he be placed in the care of his parents, with proper 
supervision. Dr. C was greatly impressed by the 
brightness and cleverness displayed by the boy in his talks 
with him. 
At home again, the boy reveled in his former associa- 
tions and conditions, and finally became so unbearable, 
that Dr. C no longer objected, and he was sent to the 
P School, a disciplinary institution. Here he was 
very troublesome, kept running away, and would stay out 
for days at a stretch. When brought back, usually by the 
officers attached to the School, he would be extremely 
filthy and audaciously obstinate and rebellious. 
Finally, his patience exhausted, the Superintendent 
petitioned that the boy be sent to the Reformatory. 
But before the Children’s Bureau could act upon the 
petition, the boy, on another wandering spell, visited the 
Orphanage, — without anybody’s permission, of course, 
— to see some of his old pals who, he knew, were being 
cared for at that institution. Whether the reports he re- 
ceived pleased him, or whether he was impressed by some 
of the pleasures and privileges his former friends were en- CHARACTERIALLY DEFECTIVE 
223 
joying (which latter was probably the case), he decided 
that for the future he would favor the institution with his 
company. 
So, escorted by several of his old body-guard, who, 
however, remained discreetly standing at a respectful dis- 
tance, he advanced boldly into the sanctuary of the Su- 
perintendent and made due and firm announcement of 
his intentions. They were plainly, but determinedly 
stated. He admitted that he had absconded from the 
P School. He did not like it, he was not going to 
like it, and he was going to stop here — so there! 
He was just giving due notice that he wanted bed and 
board to be prepared for him at once. “Let me see your 
watch,” he commanded; and after looking at it, stated 
coolly, “ I am going to that d place for my things. I ’ll 
see them go to h—1 first, before I’ll go to their Reforma- 
tory. Good night! I’ll be back in an hour with my 
things.” 
Very tactfully was he taken in hand, and not until after 
much argument, was he convinced that the matter could 
not be so summarily decided. He finally graciously con- 
sented to permit an older head to think for him this time, 
and even agreed to abide by the promises he made, in 
return for a solemn pact, that his request should be duly 
presented to the Children’s Bureau at its next meeting. 
On the strength of this agreement, he returned to the 
School of his own free will, and actually gave less trouble 
for the short time he now remained there. 
The Children’s Bureau, which had been completing 
final arrangements for his admission to the Reformatory, 
with many misgivings granted the request that he be given 
a chance in the Orphanage. 
Very proudly and triumphantly was his entry made! 
(c) Habits and Interests: 
No enuresis. No bad sex-habits noted. Had been ac- 
customed to pick up the butts of cigarettes from the streets 
and smoke them. 
Was extremely untidy about his person, and revolted 
at the suggestion of soap and water. 
Was very much absorbed in self and recognized no right 
above his own. 
Very fond of good food, and a hearty eater. Slept well. 224 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
Fond of books on adventure, and would himself con- 
coct blood-curdling tales. 
Liked to dominate, and always had other boys doing his 
bidding. 
(d) Home Conditions: 
His home environment had encouraged in him habits 
of cruelty to those younger and weaker than himself, and 
he had no scruples in gaining his desires at any cost. 
His rebellion and expulsion from his succession of 
homes had served only to embitter and enrage him the 
more. None of the good and wholesome influences of the 
institutions in which he had stayed a short time had at 
all reached him. 
At e&ch institution, he had sought to duplicate the life 
in his father’s house in so far as he was able. 
Had never had religious instruction, and did not see any 
further use for a house of worship than the opportunities 
offered for pilfering charity boxes. 
(e) Mental Interests: 
Beyond devising methods and schemes for new tricks 
of dare-deviltry and cunning, he had none. 
The Treatment 
His admission into the institution was greeted by his former 
cronies, several of whom were working out their salvation, with 
neither elation nor regret. Such indifference attested to his un- 
popularity, as the usual procedure, when a former acquaintance 
was admitted, was to hold a sort of a reception, at which the new- 
comer would be presented formally to all the inmates, followed by 
“eats” purchased with voluntary contributions of pennies. 
He was received not only with coldness, but with actual belliger- 
ency by the other boys, who had not been favored with a previous 
acquaintance with him. His reputation had evidently preceded 
him, and the monitors who controlled the Children’s Congress 
stood aloof from him, awaiting developments, before taking any 
decisive stand. “Thinks he’s goin’ to bawl us out again! Nothin’ 
doin’!” announced his former comrade-at-arms, who was among 
the most influential of the monitors, with a determined shake of 
the head which boded ill to the newcomer’s “bawling” propensities. 
The first fortnight of his stay was attended with many happy 
surprises. He was smiling, obliging, and so gentle that one could 
not help feeling provoked that so genial a youngster should have CHARACTERIALLY DEFECTIVE 
225 
acquired so dark a reputation. But it was apparently only the 
calm before the storm, which broke loose with unexpected sudden- 
ness, when, in a fit of rage over a command given by a teacher, he 
threw the ink-well, unfortunately well filled at the time, directly 
at the teacher’s head, with unerring aim. Upon being reprimanded 
for this offense, he threw off the mask of submission, and became 
morose, cranky, and violent by turns. 
He appeared highly strung almost to the point of hysteria, and 
hurled defiance to every order. At this particular time, he ap- 
peared to take a malicious satisfaction in tantalizing his super- 
visors and teachers by every species of mischief his keen brain 
could concoct; and when confronted with his misdeeds, would 
put on an air of bravado that greatly aggravated the torments of 
his victims. His ingenuity in detecting their weakest point and 
then probing it with the sharpness of invectives tended to give 
the greatest smart, was truly remarkable in one so young. His 
volleys of fiendish vituperations had been his most powerful 
weapons in cowing and terrorizing his associates, and he enthu- 
siastically started to reemploy them. 
He was taken into the sanctuary again, and behind closed doors 
taken severely to task, and made to understand that no one feared 
his tantrums, or was bound to countenance a continued spell of 
his objectionable conduct. Knowing his fears of the Reformatory, 
which had been magnified by the constant threats made to send 
him there, that point was strongly emphasized as a reason for his 
early reformation. 
After a long silence, he looked up sullenly. “ What ’ll ye give 
me if I’m good?” he questioned. 
The unexpected and strange query produced a train of thought. 
Upon investigation, the information was elicited that, since earliest 
childhood, he had been bribed to be good, first by his mother, then 
by the tormented neighbors, and finally by the ill-treated teachers 
and unhappy supervisors of the institutions. It had become habit- 
ual for him to receive toll from all children younger or weaker than 
himself, who gladly paid the tribute exacted to escape his machina- 
tions. With unconscious contempt, he described in detail how 
the president of one of the institutions, that had been favored with 
his presence, had become interested in him and decided that he 
would be the one to reform him. He paid the boy a weekly stipend 
for being good; but not having stipulated that the “being good” 
was not to be confined to the Home only, the school reports were 
such that the president protested. The boy then demanded an 
increased rate for being good at school also; and the outraged 226 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
president not only refused to pay the extra bribe, but losing his 
patience entirely, went to the school, and on hearing the outrages 
perpetrated by the boy, relieved his exasperation and wounded 
feelings by giving the youngster a good thrashing right in the pres- 
ence of all the children. 
“Gee, but I got even after that,” he boasted, with a triumphant 
grin, which more than anything else told how the poor, soft- 
hearted president had been brow-beaten and worsted in his luck- 
less attempt to deal with this specimen of juvenile delinquency. 
Now, however, being given firmly to comprehend that in the 
future he would be compelled to behave himself without bribery 
of any kind, he found such an astonishing thing so difficult of 
comprehension, that he looked his amazement and was speechless. 
When the matter was again repeated to him, with increased firm- 
ness, he faced the bribeless situation courageously, and appeared 
willing to agree to the terms dictated to him. Then he was put 
in charge of a specially patient supervisor, and the vocational 
classes kept him constantly employed, so that not a moment was 
he permitted in which to brew mischief. 
In school, his difficulties were many, owing to his unsocial atti- 
tude and the dissatisfaction he felt in being put into a lower grade 
than he felt he legitimately belonged to. He also lacked concen- 
tration, and while manifesting ability to a marked degree, was too 
lazy to apply himself properly to his studies. Every opportunity 
he could get, he also “hooked” school. 
From a talk with the principal of the school, a lady who was a 
keen observer of human nature and a splendid child psychologist, 
it was learned that the boy had a special ability for composition. 
This offered a powerful weapon for the fight. His ability in 
writing was commended and encouraged; he was put upon the 
editorial staff of the Home paper, published and printed by the 
children of the Home; his possible prospects as a great writer 
were dilated upon, and ambition was aroused in him to become a 
journalist. His vanity was colossal, and as the thought grew 
stronger and stronger in his mind how great a man he would be- 
come, and what wonderful delight he would enjoy because he had 
such remarkable ability, the means upon which to work his sal- 
vation presented themselves in his weakness. 
Once convinced that his only chance of being regarded favorably 
by the world, when he grew up, would be if he had a good educa- 
tion and properly demonstrated it by his talents, of which, it was 
tacitly agreed, he had a goodly endowment, his attitude concern- 
ing himself somewhat changed. Where formerly he had been CHARACTERIALLY DEFECTIVE 
227 
laboring under the impression that the world was greatly indebted 
to him for forbearance and goodness, and did not pay its debt to 
him sufficiently to suit him, he now realized that the world would 
give him nothing unless he tried to please it. It was borne in upon 
him in no uncertain terms that the only alternative now open to 
him was the Reformatory. In his life he had met many of the 
relicts of reformatories, and they, weighed beside successful and 
money-making journalists, simply “had no show.” 
He started by applying himself to his studies. His work was 
excellent; he was constantly praised and commended, and he 
“showed off,” by trying to be at the head of his class. At the 
Home, his violent temper, still uncurbed, made it impossible to put 
him at the head of a small group as monitor, despite some ability 
for leadership; but he took the leading parts in plays, games, and 
Boy-Scout activities, for which he received unstinted praise. He 
still continued to be very ugly when crossed, but was left alone and 
permitted to sulk as long as he desired. Gradually his tantrums be- 
came less in number and less violent, as his ambition grew stronger. 
Of his sins, selfishness and lack of moral right and justice now 
stood out preeminently, refusing to yield to the force of precept 
and example. 
His altercation with a former friend, who was now a shining 
light in the institution, over a sum of money that the latter had 
found at school and very properly brought to the principal’s 
office, was so prolonged and furious that it finally reached the 
Superintendent. The finder of the money claimed that he was not 
an idiot and a fool for not keeping money he had found, and was 
not going to be called all kinds of bad names; the other insisted 
that no one who was not an idiot and a fool would give up money 
he had found. “There’s no marks on the money,” he reasoned; 
“it don’t scream out to whom it belongs. How do we know the 
principal would n’t keep it or, maybe, 1 divvy ’ it up with the 
teachers? Them’s no angels, believe me.” 
When he had become calm after the manifestations of furious 
resentment that he could not suppress, as he listened to the com- 
mendation given to the other for honesty, he was advised to watch 
the disposition of the money carefully, and then come in for a 
further discussion. When he heard the principal announcing the 
next morning in assembly that the sum of money had been found 
and would be given the loser on proper identification, he avoided 
the other boy. When, ultimately, the money was returned to its 
rightful owner, he sulked, had a recurrence of some of his ugly 
moods, and finally gave voice to the last impression provoked in 228 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
him by the object lesson: “Well, anyway, anybody who’s so care- 
less as to lose money deserves not to get it back.” 
A little later, another violent argument had to be settled in the 
office. At this time, he had so outraged the principles held and 
maintained by the other boys, that he was in actual danger of 
physical injury at their hands. The alumni of the institution had 
loyally responded to the request that they subscribe to the Chari- 
ties. The monitors at a meeting expressed a hope that they too 
should be able to do likewise when self-supporting. To this 
worthy desire, the boy took instant exception. “Let them take 
care of their old Charities themselves,” he stated. 
“Don’t you think you ought to show your gratitude for what 
you are now getting?” someone asked him. 
“Why?” he questioned. “Shouldn’t they be glad that I am 
not doing the things I used to? What will the rich people do with 
all their money, if they don’t give homes to poor children who 
have n’t homes?” 
When he was given to understand that rich people could find 
many more pleasures for their money than founding orphanages 
for children, he seemed absorbed in thought for a while, and then 
announced, “Well, when I’m rich I’ll give money if they’ll put 
my name on a building.” And then he added, unabashed and 
fearless, to the Superintendent: “I told them you have to be good 
to us and do all sorts of things for us, because you ’re paid for doing 
it; ain’t that right?” 
A younger sister of his, at that time six years old, was admitted 
to the Orphanage because of the extreme neglect of her parents, 
shortly after his arrival. This child, apparently normal in every 
respect, had been influenced by her environment to such an extent 
that the tiny girls in her dormitory complained about the language 
she used and the temper she displayed when cross. She very soon, 
however, abandoned her undesirable traits entirely, and became 
rather an exponent of peace as the following incident will attest. 
The child was recovering from a severe attack of measles and 
was quite happy and cheerful during her convalescence. It was 
the custom of the Superintendent to visit the patients in the hos- 
pital daily, and the nurse on the case noticed that, simultaneously 
with this visit, every glass, bottle, spoon — everything standing 
or not lying under cover in the ward — mysteriously disappeared. 
She also noticed little Beatrice making surreptitious trips to and 
from the closet, and appearing restless and ill at ease. This con- 
tinued until the visit was over; then the child would seem relieved, 
and shortly afterward all the articles that had so strangely dis- CHARACTERIALLY DEFECTIVE 
229 
appeared would be restored to their places. Greatly mystified and 
interested in the peculiar proceeding, the nurse watched closely and 
observed little Beatrice laboriously collecting and hiding the re- 
ceptacles and, later, returning them. 
Her curiosity was aroused and she finally questioned the child. 
“I like him and I like you too,” tearfully explained little Beatrice, 
“and I thought maybe you would begin to fight like my mamma 
and papa, and begin to throw things; so I just hid them all so as 
you can’t throw them on him when you fight.” 
This child was most lovable and affectionate, but would be 
teased and tormented by her brother till, almost in hysterics, she 
would fly to someone for refuge. Had he been permitted, he would 
have abused her till she was the creature of his will, as he evidently 
desired to make her. During her illness, he never once inquired 
concerning her; nor did he make any attempt to see her when she 
was out of isolation, and convalescing. Chided for such indiffer- 
ence to his sister, he looked greatly injured and remarked, “What’s 
the good of a sister anyhow? She can’t do nothing for me.” 
It was his ego always, and everything else was subordinate 
to it. 
His work at school began to show excellent results. In two 
years he completed four grades, and began to entertain the idea 
of attending college. When he was graduated from the public 
school with honors, his conduct and manners were greatly im- 
proved. His graduation was made an occasion for a gala day by 
the probation officers and social workers who for years had known 
and struggled with him. They almost refused to credit their 
senses when the principal gave honorable mention to their “pet” 
problem. At the age of fifteen, he entered the City College, and 
continued to maintain a high degree of scholarship. At the Home, 
too, he was making an effort to become one of the privileged moni- 
tors, and be permitted to join the ranks of the better boys. 
The adage, “Birds of a feather flock together,” is nowhere so 
truly exemplified as in an institution, where, with unerring in- 
stinct, each small human, unaided and unabetted, finds his own 
kind, and jealously guards and protects himself from encroachment 
of an alien breed. So it happened that, while the boy was admitted 
to the various activities of the older and better boys at the request 
of authority, he by ho means was admitted to their intimacies and 
secrets. This hurt the boy’s vanity, and he was all the more de- 
termined to attain that which seemed impossible for him to reach. 
To put an end to this ostracism, he was compelled, almost in spite 
of himself, to use control over the very features of his make-up, 230 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
which antagonized the boys. Perhaps this enforced endeavor was 
as much a saving grace for his redemption as anything else. 
He had been put upon the staff of the Home paper when he first 
displayed ability at composition; now he was one of the editors 
and business managers, and not only did he write really brilliant 
articles, but he also handled honestly money received for sub- 
scriptions. He gradually became more tractable, less impertinent, 
and more amenable to reason. 
It was the custom to put the most reliable boys in charge of 
a new small “problem,” to act as a “Big Brother.” The time 
actually came when he was making a conscientious effort to cor- 
rect the manners and morals of the little tacker consigned to him. 
At that time, he was also admitted to the inner circle of the elect. 
College life had a most salutary effect upon him. He became 
less antagonistic, grew more amiable, and even made desirable 
friends among the students. At the completion of his junior year, 
at the age of seventeen years, his father, learning that he was 
working after school hours and earning some little money for his 
personal use, came with the petition that the boy be returned to 
him. As the boy was approaching the age at which it was deemed 
desirable to continue further care in a wholesome private home, 
arrangements had been completed for him to leave the institution 
and stay with some estimable people while completing his college 
career. The father, however, pleaded his extreme poverty, and 
the plight of his wife, who had just returned from the Consump- 
tives’ Sanitorium and was in need of assistance, which he was sure 
that the boy, who was now “a good boy,” as he expressed it, would 
be able to give her. Further, as the Charities had, in the interim, 
purchased for him a small grocery store which was yielding him a 
livelihood, he felt that his son was in duty bound to help him with 
the store instead of working elsewhere. 
The parents had seldom visited the children in the Home, and 
at the rare intervals when they did, they had brought discontent 
and unhappiness to them with their unwarranted abuse and absurd 
demands. It now hardly seemed wise to return the youth to the 
unhappy environment of his boyhood; but when, after an inter- 
view with his mother, he added his entreaties to his father’s, 
urging his mother’s great need and his duty to her, consent was 
given, but with many misgivings. 
The boy was permitted to return to his parents’ home, on a 
solemn promise that his work at college should continue without 
interference. CHARACTERIALLY DEFECTIVE 
231 
The Result 
The temperaments of father and son were violently opposed to 
each other and the misgivings were only too well founded. A 
week had hardly passed when the boy came raging into the office, 
having his expostulating father in tow, and asserting that he was 
“going to stand no nonsense.” 
It appeared that some drunken unfortunate had fallen right in 
front of the grocery store, and the father felt that it was a matter 
of justice and propriety to go through his pockets, before, as he 
naively put it, “some loafer would be sure to steal something”; 
which the boy strenuously refused to subscribe to, and they would 
have come to blows, but for the timely interference of the mother. 
The boy’s conduct was commended, and the father warned to 
permit the boy to follow the dictates of his conscience. A patched- 
up peace ensued, which lasted several months, till the father, 
claiming that now his wife and son were sufficient to care for the 
grocery store, found a position as garbage-collector. 
The boy stormed against this, but submitted, and worked 
harder to keep up with his school-work. In a few weeks, he was 
again in the office, this time with a happy and triumphant grin 
upon his face, and announced that the “grafter” would now have 
to be good and attend to his business. 
The “grafter” was his father. The man, while on his rounds of 
garbage-collecting, had been inspired by a very happy scheme. 
That was no more and no less than not to collect the garbage of 
any householder who was not intelligent enough to pay him 
specially for the privilege. He received many tips from long- 
suffering citizens, who paid their toll gladly; but there were also 
some very courageous individuals who resented such extortion, 
and these came with their complaints and proofs before the Dis- 
trict Superintendent, who was in charge of the garbage-removal 
from that ward. This gentleman promised redress and con- 
fronted the garbage-collector with his delinquencies. The latter, 
not at all daunted, made a ready confession and promised to divide 
his “tips” with the official in the future. This plan worked well 
for a while, till outraged residents came before powerful authorities 
and lodged their complaints, with the result that the District 
Superintendent was fired, as well as the “tipped” collector. 
It was recognized that the boy’s future would be seriously 
hampered in his home; but before efforts could be tactfully made 
for a proper adjustment of the difficulty, the chaos was settled 
definitely by the principals concerned. 232 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
A week after the garbage incident, the father left, to “find an- 
other job.” The mother was attending to the grocery, and the 
baby sister, left to herself, found a box of matches to play with. 
The inevitable happened; and when the boy, attracted by the 
little girl’s screams, ran in, to find her bed in flames and her dress 
on fire, and had the presence of mind to apply some of the methods 
he had learned as a Scout to good advantage, he very justifiably 
expected to be hailed and cheered as a hero. Especially so, as his 
quick-witted action had saved the baby from a terrible fate. 
The father, however, saw good and sufficient reasons to find 
fault with him. “Why,” he argued, “did not the boy prevent the 
fire in the first place? And since the fire had already started, why 
had he not had the good sense to save the baby and let the house 
burn up completely, so that he could receive assistance from the 
Benevolent Society? When would he again have such an excellent 
opportunity for sympathy?” 
This proved the last straw on the camel’s back, and the boy 
wiped the dust of his father’s home from his feet, “forever,” he 
vowed. He was kept in the institution till private accommoda- 
tions could be found for him. He also discovered another position, 
where he could work after school-hours and earn his modest ex- 
penses. The family was advised to molest him no further. 
At present he is working his own way through law school and 
his ambition has changed somewhat. He still hopes to amaze the 
world with the magnitude and power of his talents, but not as a 
journalist; rather as a lawyer. He hopes to be the great criminal 
lawyer of the future. 
He is sensitive regarding his father, sorry for his mother, and 
interested in his brothers and sisters, for whom he intends to do 
wonderful things when he is a great lawyer. His temper is impet- 
uous and rash, but “it’s not going to get me into more trouble,” 
he says. CASE B 
PAULINE E 
“MAGGIE” OR “MRS. JIGGS” 
(Sister of Peter E ) 
Entered February 10, 1915. Age 11 years 
The Problem 
1. Delinquency 
(a) Petty pilfering. 
(b) Unsocial; violent temper tantrums. 
(c) Deceptive, crafty, and tyrannical. 
(d) Obstinate; sullen; revengeful. 
(e) Extremely cruel to younger and weaker children. 
2. The School 
(a) Constant truancy for an extended period. 
(b) Troublesome and unmanageable. 
(c) Given to violent displays of temper when corrected or 
reproved by teacher. 
(d) Defiant and reckless. 
3. Home 
(а) Engaging in violent disputes and quarrels with parents. 
(б) Disobedient and uncontrollable. 
(c) Determined to have her own way at any hazard. 
(d) Stealing whenever possible. 
(e) Cruel to the younger children. 
4. Society 
(а) Associated with the street gang, and was involved in all 
juvenile delinquency in the neighborhood. 
(б) Impertinent and very troublesome to the neighbors, from 
whom she would either borrow money on false pretenses, 
or steal it at any favorable opportunity. 
(c) When crossed in her whims or desires, would “get even” 
by shouting vile names at her antagonists, and, with the 
assistance of other youngsters, would throw stones at their 
windows. 
1. Physical 
(a) Extremely thin and haggard in appearance. Eyes dull 
and lifeless. 
The Analysis 
233 234 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
(b) Round-shouldered, narrow-chested; spindle arms and 
legs. 
(c) Diseased tonsils and adenoids. Many badly carious 
teeth. 
(d) Frequent coughs and colds. Tubercular tendencies. 
(e) Nervous night-terrors. Occasional enuresis. 
(/) Badly scratched and bruised hands. Constant chewing 
upon fingers and nails had horribly disfigured both. 
2. Mental 
(a) Examination: Dr. T , in his report on the case, 
stated: “The girl is suffering from hyperesthesia, mel- 
ancholia, and extreme nervousness, superinduced by 
unhappy environment. Case for institutional manage- 
ment/’ 
(b) Personality Traits: 
Habitually frowning or scowling. Lines of discontent 
and bitterness already formed upon the young face. 
Very poor eater; expressing a preference only for sour 
pickles and limes, also sweets. 
Sullen, unfriendly, and suspicious. Antagonized other 
girls and prejudiced them against her, by unjust accusa- 
tions and complaints. 
Extremely untidy about person. Very slovenly in her 
habits. 
Neither affectionate, nor craving affection. 
Impolite, disloyal, and given to backbiting. 
3. Social 
(a) Heredity: 
Same as Case A. 
(&) Developmental: 
The mother claimed that she had been a normal, healthy 
baby, and “as pretty as a picture/’ She had had the 
minor ills of early childhood, but never was affected by the 
contagious diseases, which frequently attacked her broth- 
ers and sisters. The mother, whose favorite child she had 
always been, boasted that “she was too smart to take any- 
thing like that.” 
Though she was given some slight consideration not 
accorded the other children, she gravitated at an early age 
to the streets, and rapidly learned the lessons there taught 
quite systematically to the neglected child. CHARACTERIALLY DEFECTIVE 
235 
Constant quarreling, hatred, unhappiness, and extreme 
poverty, were all in the curriculum of the girl’s tragic en- 
vironment, till her admittance into the institution. 
(c) Habits and Interests: 
Would sit for hours tearing a schoolbook to pieces, in 
apparent thoughtlessness, and chewing her pencil. 
Fond of prinking in the mirror, and never too tired at 
night to put her thin, scraggly locks in curl-papers. 
Liked bright colors, and though very careless about 
cleanliness, was always anxious to secure the most be- 
ribboned and beruffled dress. 
Easily aroused to fury, which knew no bounds in its 
vituperative and obscene language. Always in a state of 
preparedness for a quarrel or a fist fight with the supervisor, 
or any boy or girl who dared to disagree with her or con- 
tradict her. So quarrelsome and turbulent was her spirit, 
that she was speedily nicknamed “Maggie” and “Mrs. 
Jiggs” by the children, who were then the fascinated ad- 
mirers of the artist who daily ran a series of pictures ex- 
ploiting the unhappy domestic life of the henpecked Mr. 
Jiggs and his termagant wife. 
When angry, had a favorite method of “revenging” 
herself, by refusing food, and triumphantly avowing that 
she intended to die through starvation, so that “the whole 
institution” might be hung for killing her. Quite fre- 
quently she would go on a hunger strike for a day or two, 
till matters were more or less amicably settled, to her 
satisfaction. 
Associated with the boy or girl “problems” exclusively. 
As the “problem” improved, so would her friendship and 
interest lessen. Very fond of taunting and tantalizing her 
former friends almost out of all patience. 
Very cruel to animals other than cats, for which she 
displayed an inordinate fondness. She would take a mali- 
cious pleasure in devising some form of torture for the 
torment of some of the pets in the house, and then would 
deliberately fondle, feed, and hug to her bosom a stray 
kitten she had picked up in the streets. She gave the latter 
what affection her nature possessed, and, unless detected, 
would carry off the kitten to bed with her. 
Her only interests in life seemed centred in the kitten 
and in the movies, of which she seemed never to tire. 236 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
(d) Home Conditions: 
Same as Case A. 
(e) Mental Interests: 
None. 
The Treatment 
In a shabby, threadbare coat, several sizes too small for her, 
without any head-covering, great holes gaping in her stockings, and 
her shoes practically without soles, she was brought into the office 
through the storm and sleet of a severe winter’s day. Her hands 
were red with the cold, the knuckles showing large and white 
when tight pressure of the skin threw them in relief; but the face, 
though nipped by the frost, was sallow and wan. A violent 
cough racked her frail, thin body. 
“ Is n’t it amazing that on a day like this, coughing as she does, 
she should be out on the streets, encouraging a street fight be- 
tween two bad boys?” remarked the social worker who had come 
with her. 
The child scowled darkly. “Aw, you just let up fussing about 
that cough. It’s mine — not yourn; and anyway — it’s none of 
your business,” she retorted; then paused to catch her breath, as a 
fit of coughing assailed her. After its rigors had somewhat abated, 
she took a deep breath, said indifferently, “That’s nothin’ — 
I’ve had lots worser’n that,” and continued to frown. 
She sullenly compressed her lips in silence, and refused to make 
any further comment or answer any question, till the worker left. 
Then, with a grimace at the closed door, she growled, “She thinks 
she’s my boss — not on her life! I’m my own boss. Nobody can 
boss me.” 
Then, with ears which undoubtedly heard not what was being 
said to her, she lackadaisically “listened” to the talk given to her, 
and vouchsafing no reply, permitted herself to be led away, still 
scowling heavily. 
It was deemed advisable to start to improve her physical con- 
dition first. She was at once put on a special diet; rest periods and 
outdoor sleeping quarters were arranged for her; to all of which she 
strenuously objected. “Aw, who wants to drink milk like a baby? 
Say, what kind of a guy do you take me for anyway?” she scorn- 
fully queried. “An’ eat them eggs? — say, do you want me to 
become a chicken? — Nothin’ doin’,” she gave as her emphatic 
decision in the matter; followed by, “ Whatcha think I am, makin’ 
me go to bed in the day?” Then she belligerently questioned the 
nurse who had her rest periods in charge: “ Think you can freeze 
me out?'—Nixie on your life!” After which she promptly in- 
formed her supervisor that, unless she were speedily returned to CHARACTERIALLY DEFECTIVE 
237 
her home, she was going to get up in the middle of the night and 
set the house on fire, “to get even with everybody.” 
Violently protesting against the injustice done her, she was 
taken into the office, where she promptly proceeded to have an 
attack of hysteria. After her chaotic mind had been somewhat 
calmed, a long talk ensued. It was tactfully pointed out to her 
that all the arrangements to which she objected had been made 
with her welfare in view, and that, if she were obedient and in- 
terested in her own development, she would soon become a healthy 
normal girl. She was further advised to compare herself with the 
other girls in the Home, and notice how much frailer, weaker, and 
retarded, physically and mentally, she was than they. 
She shook her head indifferently. “I should worry!” she ejacu- 
lated carelessly. “I don’t care if I do die, so there!” 
Details of a world in which children of her age were happy, 
healthy, and having such good times that they did not want to die, 
were carefully presented to her, and she was further informed that 
such a world should be hers in the future, if she so desired. At 
first, she listened listlessly enough, but gradually, as a sentence or 
two penetrated her consciousness almost in spite of herself, her 
curiosity was aroused and she became more attentive. Finally 
she agreed, “Aw right! Guess I wanna try it”; but it was said 
half-heartedly. 
However, in spite of this expressed desire, it was a difficult 
problem to adjust her to her new world. She craved pickles, 
lemons, candy, and ice-cream at unseasonable hours of the day 
and night, whenever the mood struck her for those “dainties”; 
and in attempting to satisfy her appetite, was guilty of deception, 
trickery, pilfering from the supervisors, and even from the children 
at times. 
She hated and insulted the physician, who continued to insist 
upon a simple and wholesome diet for her, excluding most of her 
preferences from the prescribed list. Once she burst into a torrent 
of abuse at him; and when he attempted to reprimand her for her 
conduct, promptly informed him, quite frankly, that it was her 
intention to poison him. There were daily tussles with her elders, 
whose patience she sorely tried, and frequent altercations with the 
children, whose enmity she aroused with her tantrums. 
One morning, speechless with rage, she flew into the office, 
pulling, pushing, and dragging several younger and smaller laugh- 
ing children after her. 
“She’s angry because we call her ‘Maggie,’” smilingly volun- 
teered one of the youngsters. 238 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
Evidently not satisfied that the information was receiving due 
recognition, another curly-headed little fellow dimpled and 
laughed, and submitted further: “You know who Maggie is, 
don’t you? She’s Mr. Jiggs’s wife, and she’s always fighting with 
her husband.” 
The girl finally caught her breath at this juncture. “Don’t you 
dare to call me names,” she shrieked. 
The incident was especially propitious far a much-needed lesson. 
It had become a favorite attitude with her to stay outside of the 
games or plays the children were enjoying, a heavy scowl upon 
her face, ready with jibes and taunts for those who had failed to 
achieve their goal, or did not, in her opinion, play to advantage. 
She would take a malicious delight in influencing girls to refuse to 
perform the various small duties assigned to them, triumphantly 
pointing to herself as an example to be emulated. The fact that 
her physical condition was the cause of the special privileges 
granted to her, was by her construed to mean that she was a proud 
and prominent figure, to be accorded due deference and favor. 
Hence it was that the derisive sobriquet of “Maggie,” applied 
to her, in contempt of her pretensions, by the very children whom 
she delighted in bullying unmercifully, had a more efficacious 
effect than the many reproofs and advice that had been freely 
given her. She resented being nicknamed so offensively, and in- 
sisted that “those kids quit making fun of me.” 
It was pointed out to her that the only person able to stop the 
objectionable name from being applied to her was herself. Just 
as soon as she ceased to deserve the name, so soon would the chil- 
dren cease to apply it to her. In great bitterness of heart, she ac- 
cepted the decision, and it was noted subsequently that her spasms 
of uncontrollable temper were becoming somewhat more subdued. 
In proportion were her tormentors reproved and discouraged. 
One small rascal, who presented her with a toy rolling-pin and 
scribbled instructions how to employ the same when flying into 
a fit of temper, was reprimanded in her presence, and he apolo- 
gized to her, when it was discovered that for more than a fortnight 
there had been no violent outbursts of temper. Gradually the 
length of time between her spells of fury increased. 
Numerous talks were now held with her in the office, in the 
effort to rouse in her a friendly and cooperative spirit. She would 
sit there, scowling darkly, non-communicative and apathetic. For 
her brother Peter, who was progressing rather favorably, she had 
neither love nor sympathy, and for the younger brother and sister, 
who had, in the interim, also become inmates of the Home, she CHARACTERIALLY DEFECTIVE 
239 
had nothing more than indifference. The only playmate she 
favored was a kitten she had picked lip in the street, to which she 
was extremely devoted. Unless she was watched, it was the kitten 
who enjoyed the milk, broths, and tempting dishes prepared for 
her. Asked once why she did not offer the food to her small 
sister or brother, instead of the kitten, she made answer, “But I 
love my cat and I don’t like the kids.” 
“Do you like anything better than your cat?” she was then 
asked. 
“Guess so,” she said indifferently, after a few moments’ pause. 
“What is it?” 
“Pickles, lemons, candy, watermelon,” — She started to enum- 
erate, but was interrupted and the question amended: 
“What would you like to have when you grow up?” 
“Money,” she responded laconically. 
“Why?” 
She looked amazed at the question, and answered, as if com- 
pelled to humor a stupid inquisitor, “Well, ’cause I want to buy 
lots of pickles and lemons with candy-sticks in them, and every- 
thing else I want.” 
Yet she was by no means feeble-minded. She had evinced, at 
certain times, an intellect normal for her age; and it was hoped 
that, with increasing health and strength, a curriculum for the 
employment of her dormant mental faculties might be introduced 
with benefit. Meanwhile, an effort was made to keep her fingers 
busy with the embroidery needle, to which she took rather kindly. 
One of the monitors coached her in the First-Grade work, and 
as her health improved, she was informed that soon she should be 
able to be like the other girls and attend school. At this news, she 
became almost speechless with indignation. Finally, when she 
found her voice, she stormed and inveighed against school-attend- 
ance, making the most extravagant promises to be “good,” if only 
she were permitted to continue the life she had been leading. 
Her protestations to the contrary notwithstanding, she was duly 
enrolled in school, and entered as a pupil in the Second Grade. 
For several weeks she was daily propelled to school by a trust- 
worthy monitor, though she continued her expostulations and 
objections, till gradually, by dint of promised rewards which ap- 
pealed to her, she slowly began to apply herself to her school- 
work. 
As she had progressed in her embroidery-work to such an extent 
that she was able to embroider flowers and leaves acceptably, a 
garment for her own use was presented to her, and she worked 240 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
pretty and neat designs upon it, skillfully. Then, her ambition 
increasing, she manifested an interest in the Dressmaking class, 
and being encouraged by the teacher, herself expressed a desire 
to become a member. She was very adaptable in this class, and 
soon was fired by the hope of being able to make for herself a 
duplicate of the very gaudy and furbelowed frock she admired in 
a merchant’s window. 
She now joined in the children’s recreations, with much less 
reluctance and more animation than she had hitherto manifested, 
and at times even appeared cheerful and contented. Regular 
school-attendance, combined with systematic work and play at 
home, kept her fully occupied during the day, and, shortly, her 
night-terrors gave place to healthful, normal slumbers. 
Through the cooperation of principal and teachers, her school- 
work improved to such an extent that, within two years, she was 
able to advance most rapidly, being promoted to the Sixth Grade 
shortly after passing her thirteenth birthday. Her conduct as 
well as her health was keeping pace with her mental progress, 
when, out of her clear sky of promise, came a menacing cloud in 
the shape of her mother — just discharged from the sanatorium 
for tuberculous patients. 
Between mother and daughter there had always been a strong 
bond of some sort of affection, and they met with rapturous ex- 
pressions of love and devotion on both sides. Speedily, however, 
the former discovered that the girl was essential to her happiness, 
and petitioned for her discharge from the institution. 
Futile efforts were made to convince the mother of the inad- 
visability of her daughter’s return to her home of discord and un- 
wholesomeness. The mother contended that, as her disease had 
been “cured” and the girl was her “right hand,” she should not 
be expected to deprive herself of the comfort and happiness only 
her favorite daughter was able to give her. 
During the latter part of the girl’s stay in the institution, her 
father had frequently petitioned her to come home and keep house 
for him; but always the girl had turned a deaf ear to his requests, 
and expressed herself as quite well satisfied to stay where she was. 
Now, however, she expressed her willingness to return to her 
mother, and with great regret was allowed to do so, after a promise 
made by the three that the mode of life the girl had become ac- 
customed to at the Home, should be continued. CHARACTERIALLY DEFECTIVE 
241 
The Result 
Returning from one of his infrequent visits home, the brother 
reported that the home conditions were “simply awful,” and that 
his mother was sick again and the girl unable to attend school 
because of ill health. The mother received an urgent message to 
call at the office, and she came, with a flood of tears and bitter 
complaints against the girl’s behavior to her parents. She stated 
that for two weeks the girl had refused to utter a word, and did 
nothing but stare out of the window. 
Investigation showed that, while it had taken two years for the 
girl to make some slight progress, in the little more than two 
months that she had been at her home, her decline in health and 
spirit had been much more rapid. Finding that her silence was 
not voluntary, as at first assumed, but was the symptom of some 
disease that affected her voice, which she could only raise to a 
sibilant whisper, medical authorities were at once consulted. 
The following report was submitted: 
Pauline E . Age 13 years. Examined 6-2-17. 
“Patient referred to Clinic from T.B. Dispensary because she ap- 
parently had lost her voice; seemed unable to talk above a whisper. 
Examination showed no physical basis. 
“Family History: Father living, age 40, not normal mentally. 
Mother living, has T.B. Five brothers. One has T.B. One 
died of T.B. at R , age 19. Two sisters, living and well. One 
brother very irritable, acts very ugly when he is displeased. 
“Personal History: Birth and early development normal so far 
as known. Night-terrors since the age of ten. Patient imagines 
she sees ghosts. Patient has always been very capricious about her 
food. Cares only for sweets. School at the age of eight; now in 
the Sixth Grade. Patient claims that she skipped the Fourth 
Grade, and since then her work has seemed difficult. She says 
that she likes school and that she studies very hard. She would 
like to finish Grammar School and then go to Business College; 
but she feels unable to do so, because the work “is now much too 
hard.” Patient was evidently much spoiled by her mother, and 
was very uncooperative during examination in the dispensary. 
Frequently refuses to answer questions, and simply scowls and 
looks out of the window. 
“Impression was that the girl was spoiled and inclined to drama- 
tize her sensations, in order to attract interest. Talks at great 
length in whispers.” 
Diagnosis: Psychiatric Clinic — Functional Aphonia. 242 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
Diagnosis: General Medicine — Albuminuria. 
While she was undergoing treatment for her physical ills, she 
developed the additional burden of a pulmonary complaint, and 
was shortly admitted to the Consumptives’ Sanatorium, as a pre- 
ventative measure. 
Here she was a most difficult problem to handle, as she objected 
to the physicians and the food they prescribed for her, and insisted 
on being permitted to return home, as there was nothing at all 
the matter with her, and she was being kept there “for spite.” 
As her health improved, and with it her voice, she was ready for 
discharge early in 1919. It was not deemed advisable to return 
her to her home, and she was sent to a working girls’ club, from 
which, however, she ran away after two weeks’ stay, and returned 
to her parents’ home, where she was subjected to infection from 
her mother, and compelled to do work for which she was unfit. 
Several months later, her brother, who had at that time left 
the Home, called suddenly at a late hour at night, and begged that 
assistance be given him to prevent his sister from leaving the city 
early the next morning, with a woman of whom nothing was known 
by the family. 
It was learned that the father, who had originally shielded his 
daughter, and encouraged her to leave with the strange woman for 
a town in West Virginia, had at the eleventh hour repented, and 
had advised his son to prevent the departure. 
The day had hardly dawned, when the brother, accompanied by 
an officer of the law and the Superintendent, went to the dock, and 
found the woman impatiently pacing to and fro, awaiting the ar- 
rival of the boat which was to take her and her prey from the city. 
In a dark corner, huddled up in a pitiful heap of humanity, on a 
worn suitcase, lay the girl in a restless sleep. When awakened, she 
rubbed her eyes, and upon recognizing the people before her, 
reviled them bitterly for their interference. She insisted that she 
was going with her “ best friend,” who had given her gifts of dresses, 
boxes of candy, and more pickles and ice-cream than she could eat. 
Not until the character of the woman was very carefully ex- 
plained to her, and the reasons for her surprising generosity bru- 
tally presented to her, did she permit a doubt to enter her mind 
regarding the other’s probity. 
“But she was awful good to me, and she promised to keep me 
like her daughter and give me good times, and let me do whatever 
I wanted,” she insisted. “Didn’t you?” she appealed to the 
woman. 
The latter, with her eyes fixed upon the police officer, answered CHARACTERIALLY DEFECTIVE 
243 
hastily, “’Twas all a mistake. I don’t want you at all,” and 
hastily made for the gangplank which was being lowered for 
passengers. 
Later, it was discovered from her records in the Police Depart- 
ment that she was a notorious procuress. 
As the girl had at no time displayed any undue sex-tendencies, 
her acquaintance with a woman of ill-repute was considered rather 
strange, till investigation brought the information that it was the 
father who had made the woman’s acquaintance, and had intro- 
duced her to his young daughter. He claimed that he had not 
known the woman’s antecedents. 
Strong efforts were then made to remove the girl from her home, 
which were unavailing, as she insisted on remaining with the mother, 
who was ill and unhappy, and begged that she be not deprived of 
the solace of her daughter’s company. The poor creature was un- 
aware of the fate that had menaced the girl, nor did she know 
aught of the contemplated trip that had been abandoned. 
An attempt wras then made to persuade the girl to come to the 
office at least once weekly, “to talk things over,” which proved 
more successful. She rather liked the experience of sailing in upon 
the older girls on Sunday afternoon, clad in one of the colorful, 
much ornamented dresses for which she barely escaped paying a 
terrible price, and boasting of her conquests at the public dances 
she attended with girl friends. In the office, however, she was 
more modest and less vainglorious, and would deplore the unhappy 
conditions at her home. 
Finally, after many arguments pro and con, she consented to 
accept a course in a business school, which was offered her through 
the Alumni Association of the Home; and relief was felt when she 
took to her studies with apparent willingness and earnestness. 
Shortly afterward, she came into the office one afternoon, on 
her way home from school, and exhibited, with much satisfaction 
and pride, a valuable ring. 
“I am engaged to get married,” was her startling announcement. 
It developed that she had met a young sailor at one of her 
dances, and after a week’s acquaintance, they had decided to get 
married, and he had presented her with the ring in proof of their 
betrothal. 
She was at the time not entirely free from tubercular suspicion 
and not quite sixteen years of age. Her news was very disquieting, 
but it was essential to apply the most tactful treatment in frustrat- 
ing her plans. 
“That’s fine,” she was informed; “but are you treating us 
right not to introduce the young man?” 244 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
“Promise me you’re going to like him?” she exacted first. 
“Of course! And we’ll all help you arrange the wedding if you 
wish,” was the pleasing reply given her. 
She was elated. That evening she returned with the sailor, but 
little could be gathered from the befuddled words that poured 
from his lips: he was drunk. 
Very tactfully it was suggested to her to wait a year or two be- 
fore getting married. 
She flared up at once, in indignation. “Do you think I want 
to be an old maid?” she asked angrily. 
It was pacifically pointed out to her that she could not possibly 
be an old maid for a great many years to come, and that the sailor 
would undoubtedly be quite willing to wait a year longer, and give 
her health a chance to improve. 
But the mischief had been done. She was too furious to listen 
to any more. “You can’t make me stop getting married when I 
want to,” she declared. “ I was going to let you make the wedding, 
but now I’ll do it all myself.” And she rose, and dragging the 
stupefied sailor after her, left in unforgiving wrath. 
This unexpected denouement did not prevent further measures 
being taken to ensure the future welfare of the girl. While the 
authorities were requested to investigate the past life of the sailor, 
who was a complete stranger in the city, the police suddenly sup- 
plied all the facts and information needed, by arresting the gener- 
ous would-be groom. 
The proposed match was, of course, at an end, with the return 
of the “betrothal ring” to its legitimate owner; but the girl 
grieved at the change in her plans, and again lost her voice. 
She was then sent to a hospital for treatment. The following 
was the information received: 
Report of H Hospital Social Worker: 
4-17-21. 
“Patient cured of loss of voice, in H Hospital, by applica- 
tion of electric current which made her scream.” 
Report of Benevolent Society: 
“In 1921, the girl was living at home and working at tailoring. 
However, she was said to be unhappy, because there was still 
friction in the home.” CASE C 
ANNA AND MARY J (SISTERS), “STRUCK 
BY LIGHTNING” 
Entered December 81, 1918. Ages 10 and 12 years respectively 
1. Delinquencies 
(a) Displaying marked sexual tendencies. 
(b) Extremely fond of stealing “jitney rides,” and, when 
caught by the driver, would attempt to placate him by 
offering kisses and other favors. 
(c) Petty pilfering from the corner grocer and from the candy 
store. 
(d) Frequent truancy. 
(e) Staying out in the streets till late at night. 
(/) Troublesome to the neighbors, and using obscene language. 
2. The School 
(а) Several years’ retardation. 
(б) Grasping eagerly at any pretext for staying away. “Ill- 
ness” a frequent excuse for repeated truancy. 
(c) Dishonest and disobedient. 
(d) Lazy; indifferent to studies, and defiant to the teacher. 
(e) Attempted to teach their obscene habits to smaller girls. 
3. Home 
(a) Impertinent to parents. 
(&) Preferred the streets to the home. 
4. Society 
(а) Very annoying to the neighbors by reason of the objec- 
tionable habits taught the younger children of the street. 
(б) Would be constantly in the company of older boys, who 
would publicly take liberties with them. 
(c) Liked to scribble objectionable words and remarks on 
neighboring doorsteps and walls, to the annoyance of the 
neighborhood. 
(d) Greeted every reproof with a flow of gross obscenity. 
(e) Sought every opportunity to run on an errand for friend 
or foe; but would not return with the purchase or the 
change. When the victimized sender made impatient 
inquiries, they were either not to be found, or had some 
sad story to relate about the loss of the money. 
The Problem 
245 246 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
(/) To torment the neighbors who protested, they would 
frequently lead a “gang” of colored boys, from another 
street, into the hall-way of their home, and entice little 
girls to join them. 
The Analysis 
1. Physical 
(a) Older girl: 
Splendid physique. Prematurely developed. 
Well-shaped head, jet-black hair, and fine olive skin. 
Long, narrow dark eyes, with arched brows and long 
lashes. 
Full red lips. Badly carious teeth, and diseased tonsils 
and adenoids. 
Nails on both hands cracked and broken from constant 
biting. 
Ingrowing toe-nails. 
(b) Younger girl: 
Well-grown, rounded little body, built on more slender 
lines than her sister. 
Black-haired and olive-skinned, with fine dark eyes and 
delicate features. 
None of her sister’s defects in nails and tonsils, but her 
teeth so badly diseased that she might be termed 
practically toothless. The contours of the mouth were 
already beginning to be affected by the missing teeth. 
2. Mental 
(а) Examination — Psychiatrist’s Reports: 
Older Girl: 
Intelligence: Normal mental capacity. I. C. 1.00. 
Character: Essentially normal so far as data are given. 
Health: Essentially normal. 
Impression: Data inadequate for intelligent analysis. 
Child appears to be doing well. 
Younger Girl: 
Intelligence: Essentially normal. 
Character: Too few data to determine. Appears normal. 
Health: Essentially normal. 
Impression: Deferred. 
(б) Personality Traits: 
One duplicated the traits of the other. Both were very 
untidy in their habits, slovenly in their dress, and very 
careless about their personal appearance, even though 
they knew they were pretty. CHARACTERIALLY DEFECTIVE 
247 
They slouched lazily forward in their walk, and seemed 
to propel their bodies with difficulty. Both were inactive, 
inclined to be indolent and listless, and would sit staring 
out of a window for hours at a time. 
Both were fond of good food, sweetmeats in particular, 
and were extremely hearty eaters. 
Pleasure-loving and greatly allured by the moving 
pictures. 
Preferred to associate with boys. 
Disdainful of dolls and other toys usually fancied by 
girls, playing in preference with marbles and tops. 
Younger speaking with a lisp, so pronounced that her 
speech was almost unintelligible. 
Both were very prone to laughter, whether or not ap- 
propriate, or suited to the occasion. 
3. Social 
(a) Heredity: 
Father: of low-type mentality, had no trade, and worked 
at infrequent intervals at odd jobs. He was a ne’er-do- 
well before his marriage, and his matrimonial responsi- 
bilities served only to increase his debts and vices. 
In 1899, at that time quite young in years, and having 
only his wife and one baby to maintain, he applied to the 
Charities for assistance to support his family. For the 
next seven years, every constituent agency in the Charities 
of the city worked with the family in some capacity. 
He refused to work, gambled with what money he could 
lay his hands on, drank, quarreled, and was extremely 
abusive to his wife and the children. In 1908, he was 
arrested for ill-treating his wife, and at that time the 
neighbors advised that the children be removed from the 
home, as they were neglected, starved, and often beaten 
by the man in his drunken fury. The case was finally 
referred to the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to 
Children, which organization succeeded in bringing the 
matter to Court before His Honor, Judge W . 
The father was ordered to go to work, and the case 
postponed for six months. Later, the case was referred 
to the Children’s Bureau. The man complained of feel- 
ing ill, and an examination revealed that he was suffering 
from tuberculosis, and that he was also afflicted with 
syphilis of the brain. 248 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
Within the next few years, he was arrested three times, 
once for beating his wife and children, the second time 
for assaulting one of his daughters, and the third time for 
non-support. 
He manifested no interest in any member of his family, 
existed on the contributions allotted by the Charities, 
and indulged his vices whenever he found a favorable 
opportunity. 
His only known relatives, two brothers in another city, 
were apparently normal, and refused to render any as- 
sistance, either to him or to his family. They claimed that 
they had become disgusted with him years ago, and had 
completely disowned him, as he was a disgrace to their 
family, which, they stated, was native American, self- 
respecting and honorable. 
Mother: deemed feeble-minded, was coarse, quarrel- 
some, and fond of drinking to excess. 
In appearance she was prematurely aged, having lost 
every vestige of the beauty that was undeniably hers in 
early youth. Her skin was hideously wrinkled and her 
mouth completely toothless, though she could not have 
been more than thirty-five years old at the time. Her 
nose, almost touching her chin, grotesquely brought to 
mind the generally accepted conception of a witch. The 
conical cap and the broomstick seemed lacking as neces- 
sary paraphernalia to her ragged accoutrements. She 
presented a most incongruous picture when she fondled 
her beautiful children. 
She shamelessly neglected her poor home, was either 
unwilling or unable to supervise and care for her children, 
who were six in number and unusually well formed in body 
and attractive of face, and lightly accepted whatever the 
fates brought her. 
She permitted her girls to roam the streets, while she 
sat contentedly chatting in her doorway, ensconced on 
a soap-box. At no time did she make any known effort 
for her own or her children’s relief or assistance, and 
violently resisted every attempt to take them from her. 
She refused to permit her older girls to be taken from their 
home, even after each of them had given birth to an ille- 
gitimate child, at the age of thirteen. 
Always slovenly, bedraggled, and quarrelsome, she 
was indeed a pitiful object to behold. CHARACTERIALLY DEFECTIVE 
249 
Of good extraction, she seemed the one blot in a family 
which numbered many honorable and esteemed mem- 
bers in business and professional classes. She was the 
recipient of a small income from these relatives, which 
she and her husband expended on the appetites that had 
greatly helped to destroy completely their feeble intellects. 
Siblings: Oldest brother, was brought into court several 
times, for begging in the streets, vagrancy, and truancy. 
After many warnings, he was finally committed to a child- 
caring institution, as a minor without proper care. 
On the plea of his mother, he was discharged to her, a 
year later, and shortly afterward was brought into the 
Juvenile Court on complaint of the neighbors. His 
scholarship and deportment at school were reported as 
being very poor, and he boasted that he was a member 
of a “gang.” His institutional record had been quite 
favorable, but in his old environment he had quickly 
backslid to his former ways. 
At this juncture, an uncle of his mother, a justice of the 
peace, became interested in the boy, and offered to care 
for him in his own home, in another city. His Honor 
granted the request, and gave the custody of the boy to 
his grand-uncle. The latter watched over the boy’s in- 
terests, and finding that he was of average intelligence, 
permitted him to learn the trade he desired, which was 
that of machinist. 
The youth did well at his chosen occupation, and at the 
age of twenty-two returned to his native city, and en- 
deavored to enlighten and assist his parents. Unable to 
be of any service to them, he returned to live with the 
grand-uncle, for whom he entertained marked devotion 
and affection. 
Later, he married a fine, intelligent girl, and the two 
subsequently applied for the release of the younger sisters 
from the Orphanage to their custody. As they manifested 
keen interest in the welfare of the children, and both 
young people were honest and sincere, their request was 
granted. 
There is every indication that the grand-uncle’s interest 
and work with the boy have produced most excellent 
results. 
Oldest sister, grew up in the streets, without care and 
without schooling. She was extremely attractive. At the 250 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
age of ten she was brought into the Juvenile Court for 
some misdeed and was sent to the Home for the Friend- 
less. A year later she was discharged to the mother, who 
had not ceased, during the entire time of the girl’s stay 
at the institution, to beg for her release. 
Shortly after, the mother brought the complaint to the 
Children’s Bureau, that the girl was refractory, stayed 
out all hours at night, and associated with companions 
of undesirable character. She refused, however, to return 
the girl to the institution. 
Several months later, the child, barely past her thir- 
teenth year, gave birth to an illegitimate baby. The un- 
fortunate young creature accused a youth with whom she 
had been associating, who was too young to pay the 
penalty for his indiscretion. Subsequently, the baby was 
given away for adoption, — despite the objections of its 
grandmother, who insisted on retaining it in her home, — 
and its mother pursued her former way. 
Second sister, had been committed to two different in- 
stitutions before she had attained her tenth year. It is 
not known at what age she was discharged to her parents, 
nor why; but at twelve years of age, she had succeeded 
in getting into difficulties with her teachers. Her attend- 
ance, scholarship, and deportment were considered un- 
usually poor, and the school-attendance officer had been 
requested to investigate her home surroundings. 
He reported that he had learned from the neighbors 
that the girl had undesirable associates, both white and 
colored, that she stayed out late at nights, and that her 
morals were questionable. The teacher substantiated 
these reports with proofs that the girl had not attended 
school more than two days out of every week, that she had 
passed vulgar and obscene notes to the boys in the class- 
room, and that she was insolent and uncontrollable. The 
mother stoutly denied the truth of any of these reports. 
Numerous efforts were now made by the Children’s 
Bureau to have the girl committed to an institution; but 
every time the mother interfered, and succeeded in 
frustrating the attempt. 
In her thirteenth year, the girl became a mother. Upon 
her discharge from the hospital, she lived with her baby 
at her mother’s home. The woman reported that the girl 
had been married to the father of her baby; but upon CHARACTERIALLY DEFECTIVE 
251 
investigation, this was found to be untrue. It was learned 
that the young man whom the girl accused had been 
prosecuted, and was compelled to pay three dollars a week 
toward the support of the baby. 
The girl continued her associations with the young 
man, and, scarcely two years later, became a mother 
again. Two months after this birth, the young man was 
persuaded to marry the girl. 
He is an operative in a factory, earning a meagre 
salary, and possessing an intellect that is not up to the 
average. His family connections are poor and humble, 
and are inclined to be antagonistic to the forced marriage. 
Youngest sister, was not quite eight years old at the time 
her two sisters were admitted into the Orphanage. She 
was a very attractive child, good mentality, and was re- 
tiring and gentle in her manners. 
She had stood timidly in the background of her sisters’ 
adventures, and had made no attempt to become asso- 
ciated with them in their exploits. Shortly after their 
entrance into the Orphanage, it was deemed advisable to 
change her environment, and she too was admitted to the 
institution. 
It was found that she was a tractable, easy-going child, 
with no undesirable tendencies. She progressed normally 
in the Home, had no difficulties at school, and needed 
nothing more than a wholesome, happy environment for 
her best development. 
In the winter of 1921, she was transferred from the 
Orphanage to the home of her brother and sister-in-law, 
at their request, and has been reported as being very happy 
in her new home. 
She made splendid progress in her school-work, and is 
regarded as a normal, promising case of childhood. 
(6) Developmental: 
Both girls had been normal babies at birth, and had 
been strong and healthy during infancy and early child- 
hood, in spite of lack of care and attention. 
Each had the usual children’s diseases mildly, and 
though they never had the regular hours and wholesome 
food so necessary for the proper physical development of 
childhood, they still were sturdy and apparently healthy 
specimens. 
Their unhappy home environment, supplemented by the 252 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
influences of the streets where they had spent the greater 
part of their short lives, undoubtedly paved the way for 
the juvenile delinquencies they committed. Confronted 
by the examples set by the older sisters in the home, and 
noticing similar patterns in the streets, the children de- 
veloped in accordance with the immoral influences sur- 
rounding them. 
The force of school morale was powerless to affect the 
abyss of degradation that engulfed them. No other 
wholesome interest touched their warped lives. 
(c) Habits and Interests: 
Older one constantly chewing nails and biting fingers; 
the younger, sucking the lower lip. 
Extremely fond of candy and cake. Devoted to ice- 
cream cones. 
No interest in books, games, or girls’ sports. 
Fond of watching the boys at work or at play. 
(d) Home Conditions: 
Practically since its establishment, the home was poorly 
furnished, poorly kept, and at no time was a fit place for 
children to live in. 
At the time the oldest girl became a mother, the home 
was reported to be in the most miserable condition pos- 
sible. The parents constantly quarreled, and frequently 
both were drunk. The children had absolutely no super- 
vision or care from either of the parents. 
The father made no effort to work and support his 
family, and the poverty at all times was crushing and 
deadening to the girls, who never had adequate food or 
clothing. Sympathetic neighbors frequently gave them 
shoes, that they might be enabled to attend school. 
(e) Mental Interests: 
None. 
The Treatment 
They sat in the office, silent, sullen, and rebellious. Their eyes 
were downcast, their heads bent, and as yet they had not gotten 
over the shock of the sudden and unexpected bathing and combing 
that had greeted them almost upon their entrance to the institution. 
Their poor little bodies had been found to be in such a condition 
of neglect and uncleanliness, that it had been necessary to give 
them more than ordinary attention. Now they felt oppressed and 
uncomfortable in their unaccustomed attire of fresh, clean clothes CHARACTERIALLY DEFECTIVE 
253 
and brand-new stockings and shoes, and moved uneasily in their 
chairs, while they nervously fingered their strange apparel. 
Adding to their evident confusion was the fact that their super- 
visor was complaining on this, their first day in the institution, 
that they had taken fifty cents from her purse, that they had 
already defied her authority, and had told the other girls “bad 
things.” 
“Do you hear and understand the complaints made against 
you?” they were asked. 
The older one tossed her head; the little one, said, “Yes’m.” 
“Why did you take the lady’s money?” 
“’Cause we wanna run away from here,” explained the older 
one. 
“Sure, we don’t like it here,” added the other. 
“Why?” 
Both hesitated and looked questioningly at each other. “ ’Cause 
we want to go way from here,” finally answered the older, who 
acted as leader and spokesman. “Yes’m,” affirmed the little one. 
“But why should the lady lose her money if you choose to run 
away from here?” 
“’Cause she got more money ’an my momma, in her pocket- 
book — I seen it. And we ain’t got no money home,” the older 
asserted in justification. 
“We were gonna give momma the money,” the smaller one 
said, in further palliation of the offense. 
“Do you often give your mother the money you steal?” 
“Not all the time,” — very briefly, with a defiant shake of the 
head. 
“Got to have a little bit for us,” the other explained more fully, 
“Does your mother ask you where you get the money?” was the 
next question put to them. 
The older one answered with another query. “What for should 
she ask us?” 
The smaller one was again more explanatory. “She’s only too 
tickled to get money, ’cause she ain’t never got none,” she oblig- 
ingly stated. 
“Do you know that it is wrong to take money or other things 
that don’t belong to you?” 
Both blushed and silently hung their heads. The question was 
repeated. 
“Guess so,” the older said finally. 
“Yes’m,” from the other. 
“Why did you do that then?” 254 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
“’Cause we ain’t got no money by ourselves,” was the reply, 
to which the younger nodded in silent agreement. 
“Do you know that the things you were telling the girls here 
were wrong and not nice things to tell anybody?” 
The older one nodded her head affirmatively; the younger 
agreed with a naive, “’Cause we know them are bad things.” 
“Then why should you tell them to the girls?” 
The older shrugged her shoulders and obstinately tightened her 
lips, but the younger piped out, “Please, mister, we do that all the 
time.” 
“Why?” 
“I dunno,” she replied; “maybe ’cause we do.” 
“You understand that it is not right to do so?” 
“Yes’m,” she replied cheerfully; “s’pose so.” 
The older one was now addressed. “Do you understand that 
when you do something that is wrong, knowing that it is wrong, 
you are likely to be punished severely?” 
The child tossed her head in indifference. “If I’m smart, I 
don’t have to get in no trouble,” she stated with conviction. 
“An’ don’t have to worry,” added the younger. 
“Who told you that?” 
“My momma,” replied the older one. 
“An’ my sisters Katie and Susie say that, too,” the other 
hastened to put in, as adding weight to their argument. 
“What did your mother tell you to do here in the Home?” 
The younger opened her mouth to make some reply, but was 
silenced at a look from the other. 
“Very well; if you would prefer that your mother should be 
sent for, to tell the things she told you to do here herself, we ’ll do 
that,” they were coolly informed. 
A look of alarm passed between them. “Guess you better tell 
’im,” whispered the smaller one to her sister. 
“You tell,” ordered the older, in a loud whisper. 
The other obeyed, and began timidly: “My momma said that 
we must n’t be good here, den we’ll be sent back home.” 
“An’ we want to go home,” announced the older. 
“Yes’m, we do,” affirmed the other. 
They were, at this juncture, given to understand that wrong- 
doing would be attended with different results from those antici- 
pated by their mother, and were advised to heed and obey their 
supervisor, if they desired to enjoy the privileges and freedom of 
the other children. At the same time, an account was tactfully 
given them of the good times and rewards in store for them, CHARACTERIALLY DEFECTIVE 
255 
should they adapt themselves to the environment of the institution, 
and a glowing tale of the future happy life before them was pre- 
sented. 
Slowly the sullenness and bitterness left the pretty, young faces, 
and they even smiled at the suggestion that the dancing teacher 
might be delighted with two such attractive pupils. 
“Ah, I like to dance,” brightly exclaimed the younger; “you 
know I always dance in the street with my sister when the dago 
man comes around with his organ.” 
The older nodded in the affirmative. “We always helped him 
get lots of pennies,” she added. 
“An’ we never took his pennies, honest, we didn’t, ’cause he 
was a good dago and let us play with the monkey,” the smaller 
one chatted reminiscently. 
The older, who was in possession of the purloined half-dollar, 
returned it willingly, with apologies, in which her sister joined; 
and both in a decidedly better frame of mind than they had en- 
tered, stood at the office door, about to take their leave with their 
appeased supervisor. 
Suddenly the older voiced the thought in her mind. “We want 
to give our other clothes to momma. Kin we?” 
As the ragged articles in question could be termed “clothes” 
only by the utmost stretch of the imagination, and there were no 
members in their home to be clothed by them, the question was 
rather an interesting one. 
“Why do you want to send them home?” they were asked. 
“’Cause you got an awful lot of things anyway,” replied the 
older. 
“We want to give them to poor children,” added the smaller. 
The request, for the sake of charity, was granted. Later, it 
was discovered that it was the mother’s vision of the ragman’s 
pittance that had influenced the request. 
Their supervisor was privately requested to keep them under 
close surveillance for a while, and make every effort to prevent 
them from using obscene language to the children. 
A message was then sent to the mother, requesting her presence 
in the office. She came eagerly, expecting to receive her children 
from a disarmed and disgusted institution official; but, instead, 
was calmly informed that her advice and counsels to her children 
were known, and that she would be brought into court for con- 
tributing to juvenile delinquency, unless she corrected her instruc- 
tions to the children. At first she denied having advised them to 
be insubordinate and disobedient; then flew into a violent temper, 256 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
raging, screaming, and demanding that they be returned to her, 
and offering to “slap them” for “giving her away ” — and further 
vowing all sorts of vengeance upon their heads. 
She was at once a grotesque and pathetic object. Finally, when 
the realization came to her that neither vituperations nor lamen- 
tations would justify her conduct, and bring her sympathy, she 
calmed down somewhat. When she had recovered sufficient con- 
trol to be reasoned with, she was informed that the decision of 
the judge had been to send the girls to the Reformatory; but that 
intercessions in their behalf had prevailed upon His Honor to give 
them a chance in the Orphanage. Confronted with the certainty 
of His Honor’s disapproval of her interference with the children 
in the institution, she lost her audacity completely, and abjectly 
agreed to permit the girls to have what was undoubtedly for them, 
at the time, the opportunity of their lives. 
The little girls were subsequently brought into the office on 
complaints of pilfering, and writing and saying “bad things.” 
They were spoken to as plainly as was consistent with their youth 
and varied experiences, and very patiently handled. It took 
several months’ tireless and tactful teaching and argument to 
convince them that their continued boasts to the older girls, that, 
“My sisters are younger ’an you, and they got babies already,” 
were not quite the triumphant achievements they fancied. 
Both were started in the First Grade at school; though they 
objected and attempted to play “hookey” at any and every pos- 
sible occasion, they ultimately surrendered to the inevitable, and 
at first begrudgingly, then willingly, became interested in their 
school-work. The dancing class helped considerably. Both en- 
joyed dancing, and both were immensely flattered by the favorable 
comments evoked by their skill and grace in the dance. 
Gradually, by dint of encouragement and rewards, they began 
to improve in scholarship and deportment. They were promoted 
to a higher grade, to their intense pride and satisfaction, and per- 
mitted themselves to become interested in the Domestic Science 
and Sewing classes. As the impertinent and obscene remarks and 
petty pilfering, which were the earmarks of their former environ- 
ment, were obliterated in favor of more wholesome lessons and 
activities, they learned to live and play normally and happily. 
The older girl had her tonsils and adenoids removed, and in time 
succeeded in overcoming her difficulty of yielding to the bad habit 
of biting her nails and fingers. Both received needed dental treat- 
ment, which benefited them at the time and was of inestimable 
value to them for the future. The younger, in particular, was CHARACTERIALLY DEFECTIVE 
257 
given the advantages of modern dentistry, and was probably saved 
from her mother’s toothless fate in the prime of life. 
Their morbid and unwholesome interest in boys was diverted 
into more normal channels, through the medium of work and play, 
which was arranged to absorb their time completely. After their 
minds had been sufficiently influenced by the happy, childlike life 
about them, so that their former ideas and fancies were rendered 
obscure and wrong by comparison and constant contact, they were 
released from all espionage, and mingled freely with the other 
children. It was observed with great satisfaction that they seemed 
to have completely forgotten about the “bad things” they had 
such a penchant for saying and writing. 
As they adapted themselves to the regular, wholesome life of 
the Orphanage, they improved in their various classes at the Home 
and in school, and became charming, lovable children. At the end 
of a year there was nothing problematic about them. 
Then the mother decided that it was about time that the girls 
were returned to her home. She felt that she needed assistance in 
caring for her daughters’ babies, as well as willing ears into which 
to pour her various troubles and disagreements concerning these 
same daughters. Her request at the office for the return of the 
girls being refused, she took matters into her own hands, and ad- 
vised the children to run away from the Home. 
This time she reckoned with different children from those she 
had known. The girls, to her amazement, stoutly refused to heed 
her suggestions or desires. Losing control of herself completely 
in her outraged feelings, she fell upon them, berated them soundly 
with threats and curses, and beat them, until they were rescued 
from her hands, and she was forced into the office. It was with 
great difficulty that she was finally induced to control herself 
sufficiently to speak intelligibly. 
“Them kids got to come home with me,” she insisted. 
“I don’t want to go. I like to stay here; please don’t take me 
away,” pleaded the older. 
“Me too,” wept the younger. 
At which pleas, the mother became hysterical again, and threat- 
ened to bring a policeman to arrest the wicked Superintendent who 
had stolen her children’s affections from her. At this, the two girls 
burst out into wails of fear and entreaty, and each clinging to a 
hand of the Superintendent, as if in protection, implored their 
mother to be merciful and not put him into prison. 
The mother absolutely refused to grant any clemency, and after 
a while, when the storm in her mind had somewhat abated, she 
left, still in high dudgeon. 258 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
Whether or not she besought the aid of a policeman, she did 
beseech the assistance of the court in regaining her children, by 
taking out a writ of habeas corpus. The girls were of course 
brought to court, though they pleaded that they be permitted to 
remain at the Home, and to write a letter to the Judge instead, 
praying that they should not be returned to their old home. 
His Honor, who was acquainted with the case, attempted to 
show the mother how her children had been benefited in the in- 
stitution; but she would have none of that. 
“They don’t love me any more,” she insisted. “They mind 
him; they don’t mind me, and they are my children and I want 
them.” 
His Honor further attempted to palliate the enormity of the 
wrongs that had been done her. 
“Don’t you realize that the influence of your home is bad for 
growing girls?” he asked. 
“They are good children now, and my home won’t hurt them,” 
she asserted. 
“Was it the best place for your two older daughters?” ques- 
tioned the Judge. 
“It sure was,” she replied. 
“Why then did each of them, when still a child, have such a 
sad experience?” asked His Honor. 
“That’s nothing,” she retorted, coolly tossing her head; “such 
a thing happens every day in the best families.” 
“That may be,” responded His Honor thoughtfully, “but it 
is decidedly unusual for lightning to strike the same house twice 
in the same place. So to prevent a repetition of lightning strokes, 
we’ll permit the children to remain where they are at present.” 
Though the mother was outraged at the decision, the children 
were delighted and thanked the Judge in their own way. The 
older, extending her hand, said, “I thank you very much, because 
I like it there,” and smiled happily. 
The younger timidly nodded her head, murmured, “I thank 
you, Mr. Judge,” and looked gravely at her mother. 
The latter, though enraged at the turn of events, still controlled 
herself and made no scene, as had at first been apprehended. When, 
several months later, her youngest child was also sent to the Home, 
she made no further objections, but begged that she be permitted 
to visit the children whenever she desired. 
This request was granted, with the understanding that at no 
time should she seek to influence them to any nefarious schemes or 
plans. She would come several times a week to see them, and hide- CHARACTERIALLY DEFECTIVE 
259 
ous though she was in appearance, the sight of the three beautiful 
children clustering about her presented a picture rarely beautiful 
and interesting. 
There was no further difficulty with either of the girls in the 
Home. They were absolutely normal children, and displayed no 
objectionable trait, sexual or otherwise. 
The Result 
From the Benevolent Society’s Records: 
“In the latter part of September, 1921, the brother and sister- 
in-law of the J children sent a request to the Children’s 
Bureau, that the three girls be released to them from the Orphan- 
age. Upon investigation, it was found that the home was in fairly 
good condition, the young man being an industrious and steady 
worker, and his wife, a young woman of intelligence, who appeared 
to be sincerely interested in the children. 
“The two older girls were sent to Dr. D for an examination, 
and the following report was submitted concerning them: 
“‘The girls were seen first in December, 1918. They have im- 
proved considerably since then. They are children of usual intel- 
ligence and appear to be well-balanced and of normal health. 
There appears to be no reason for feeling that the girls have any 
unusual sexual tendencies. It is only in the light of their family 
history that this appears to be emphasized. On going over the 
situation with the sister-in-law, I am impressed with her honesty 
and sincerity in helping the situation. She appears intelligent, 
and seems quite anxious to assist the children. Her home arrange- 
ments are such, that the oldest girl will have a room by herself 
within a few weeks. The income appears ample. I therefore 
advise, by all means, that the girls be allowed to go to the home 
of the brother and sister-in-law. (Signed) F. L. D.’ 
“Early in November, 1921, the three girls were placed in the 
home of their brother and sister-in-law. 
“They are very happy in their new home, attend school regu- 
larly, and matters seem very satisfactory.” CHAPTER VI 
PRECOCIOUS 
Case A, Harry K “Just Another Edison” 
Case B, Polly S “Miss Spitfire” 
Case C, Carrie F “The Scapegoat” CASE A 
HARRY K , “JUST ANOTHER EDISON’’ 
Entered February 23, 1916. Age 11 years 
The Problem 
1. Delinquency 
(o) Constant truancy. 
(b) Bunking out for days at a time. 
(c) Violent and uncontrollable temper. Would throw “things” 
at anybody who enraged him. 
(d) Frequent fighting in the streets. 
(e) Objectionable language. 
2. School 
(а) Truant since the age of five years, when he first entered 
school. 
(б) At the age of eleven, still in the First Grade. 
(c) Obstinate; sullen; always ready to fight either teachers or 
pupils. 
(d) Not the slightest interest in school-work. 
3. Home 
(o) Quarrelsome and defiant. 
(6) Beyond control of mother. 
(c) His own master, doing whatever he desired, and following 
blindly the mood of the moment. 
4. Society 
(a) Anti-social and antagonistic to anyone, old or young, dif- 
fering from him. 
(b) No boy friends. On intimate terms with chauffeurs, em- 
ployees of garages, machine-shops, and engine-rooms. 
Partial to the janitors of buildings. 
(c) No moral responsibility, and prepared violently to resent 
the least attempt to interfere with his conduct. 
(d) Court Record: Charged with obstinate and continued 
truancy. Minor without proper care. 
263 264 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
1. Physical 
(а) Small, dark, thin, and wiry. 
(б) Undernourished; ten pounds underweight. Diseased 
tonsils and adenoids. Carious teeth. 
(c) Enuresis. Afraid to sleep alone, or in the dark. 
(d) Very poor eater, fussy about food, and having definite 
likes and dislikes. If unable to get what was desired, pre- 
ferred going without the meal. 
2. Mental 
(a) Examination — (Psychiatric Clinic): 
When patient was brought to the dispensary, his history 
showed that he was extremely nervous. Backward 
in school (ungraded class). Various fears; quick- 
tempered (throws things at his teacher); obstinate 
and greatly spoiled by his mother. Always greatly 
interested in electricity. Has his own batteries at 
home; haunts automobile repair-shops and feels 
quite certain that he has a “patent” which will be 
worth money. 
Patient sleeps poorly, has frequent night-terrors and 
enuresis. Is afraid the house is haunted, and sees 
spirits on the street, sometimes in the daytime. 
Patient has never got on well at school; the boys tease 
him and call him a “nut.” He spends all his time 
drawing instead of doing his school-work. 
Diagnosis — Neurotic child; Binet-Simon 10 years. 
(b) Personality Traits: 
Untidy in person, and so careless in habits, that he re- 
sembled nothing as much as an animated scarecrow. His 
face was smeared with grease, dirt, and cinders, and his 
hands were always coated with a heavy layer of some 
black substance. 
Keen, intelligent, impulsive, and very daring. 
Entertained definite and decided opinions regarding his 
ability, and would brook no interference and invited no 
interest. 
Insisted upon being left to himself, to do as he pleased. 
Always carried his “invention” under his arm jealously, 
and discouraged any attempts or suggestions regarding its 
disposal. 
The Analysis PRECOCIOUS 
265 
His black eyes, gleaming in his grimy, thin face, gave 
him an uncanny, wild look, at variance with his childish 
features. 
When not employed, he would be biting fiercely at his 
dirt-caked nails. 
3. Social 
(a) Heredity: 
Father: good, honest man, but had no education and no 
special training for any trade. Was an unskilled work- 
man, working at anything he picked up, and was constantly 
struggling with poverty. 
Compelled to apply for assistance for his family to the 
local benevolent organization. He had always worked 
industriously and faithfully to support his family when he 
obtained work, but his earnings had always been insuffi- 
cient. 
The Charities established a small grocery store for the 
assistance of the famity; he took charge of the store when 
not employed, and helped in it morning and night when 
he had a job. 
He was subject to bronchial attacks, which were ne- 
glected. Finally, he suffered an attack of broncho-pneu- 
monia. He was taken to the hospital where he developed 
an abscess of the brain, which proved fatal. 
His brothers and sisters, all very poor and struggling, 
were scattered in various cities, and unable to render any 
assistance. The family had no other resources than the 
charitable organization interested. 
Mother: of good, average family of working people. Had 
rather attractive personality. No relatives or friends in 
the city. 
She had suffered much sorrow and deprivation in her 
life, and had become soured and embittered. At times 
she was greatly depressed. 
After her husband’s death she went out to work, leav- 
ing her daughter, a girl of twelve, in charge of the store 
and the children. 
Complained that she had never been able to make both 
ends meet, and described her poverty as the contributing 
factor to her children’s delinquencies. 
Appeared very fond of the children, and quite anxious 
to assist them in any way possible to her. 
Was unable to guide or direct their energies, or to exert 266 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
any influence over their instincts. She bitterly deplored 
her inability to control them. 
Her neighbors liked and trusted her, and she was sociable 
and cordial to them. 
Siblings: Oldest brother, normal boy with average in- 
tellect; liked a good time and was glad to leave school for 
the chance of going to work and making money. 
Had not been graduated from school, and had no desire 
for educational advantages and no particular bent for any 
trade or occupation. 
He worked in a book-bindery for a while and gave his 
mother half of his wages. Then he got tired of that, be- 
came very much discouraged, and regarded his responsi- 
bilities as hateful burdens. 
He was discontented with his home surroundings, which 
he claimed made him very unhappy, and finally went to 
New York to live with an aunt. 
He returned in a few weeks, complaining that he had 
been unable to secure a job. 
Unwillingly assisted his mother in the store. Picked up 
odd jobs now and then. 
Has no trade and no definite aim or purpose in life. 
Older sister, girl of frail constitution and very ordinary 
mentality. 
She has chronic heart-trouble and on one occasion spent 
five months at the hospital. 
Was retarded several years at school. Retardation 
probably caused by frequent long absences from school. 
Shortly after her father’s death, she took charge of the 
store and the children, while the mother went out to work. 
She left school at the age of fifteen, with graduation 
several years ahead of her. 
Is a gentle, willing child, but sadly lacking in spirit and 
initiative. 
Younger brother, a “problem” at the age of ten. 
He had poliomyelitis as a baby, and the disease left both 
legs crippled. Uses crutches and wears braces. 
Physician had advised that he be operated on to improve 
his deformities, but the boy absolutely refused to submit 
to an operation. 
Capitalized deformity for begging in the streets. 
Was a truant, exceedingly troublesome and disobedient. 
On one occasion was found drunk in a doorway. PRECOCIOUS 
267 
Sold newspapers, played with colored children (in a 
southern city), and displayed a fiery and unmanageable 
temper. 
Vicious tendencies and masturbation. 
Psychiatrist’s Report on boy: 
Examination shows boy of normal intelligence and poorly 
balanced disposition; quite mechanical, and with marked 
sexual precocity. Should be placed in an institution tem- 
porarily. Old paralysis does not interfere with normal 
activities. 
(6) Developmental: 
He was a normal, healthy baby. Had few illnesses as a 
child, but was always high-strung, nervous, and inclined 
to be irritable when contradicted. 
Had always slept with either his father or older brother, 
and always had a light burning. While still a very young 
child, he had cried himself into convulsions when he woke 
suddenly and found himself in the dark. He never read 
books, was never told stories, yet was constantly conjur- 
ing up ghosts and devils, and in mortal terror of them. 
Never made friends among the children; kept to him- 
self, and from the age of five, had fixed up a tiny corner 
in the bedroom, where he kept bits of wire, nails, broken 
tools, and anything and everything that came in his way, 
that was of metal. He jealously guarded this corner, and 
would fight fiendishly if any attempt were made to disturb 
his “treasures.” 
He never played with his brothers or sister; the usual 
boy’s toys and playthings meant nothing to him; he was 
happy and contented only when he was tinkering in the 
machine-shop next door to his home, and later, when he 
grew older, in the garages and engine-rooms in the neigh- 
borhood. 
He refused to attend school practically from the day he 
started, and, when seven years old, he was reported to the 
School-Attendance Department, as being troublesome, a 
truant, and beyond the control of his parents. He had 
been suspended from school for throwing his slate at a boy. 
He had also had a fight with an older and stronger boy than 
himself and had sustained injuries to his nose, which 
necessitated three different operations at intervals. 
His father, during his lifetime, was unable to have any 
influence over the boy and was greatly worried as to the 268 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
boy’s possible future. Six months before his death, he had 
the boy taken to the Psychiatric Clinic for a mental test, 
and was informed that the bo}r was, “intelligent, neurotic, 
and a victim of environment.” 
(c) Habits and Interests: 
Careless about person. Hates soap and water. Would 
rather wear tatters and rags than take the time to change 
clothes. 
Fights at the slightest provocation. Hasty, reckless, 
and determined to have his own way. 
Not the least desire for the usual pleasures enjoyed by 
healthy boys; does not care for the moving pictures or the 
theatres. 
Unconscious of sex. 
No interest or desire for any books, games, or pleasures 
usually demanded and enjoyed by children. 
Desired only to be left alone in his favorite haunts at 
the machine-shop, spending all his time upon a “patent” 
that would bring him “lots of money.” 
(<d) Home Conditions: 
Under the strain of poverty, the parents had become 
nervous, irritable, and quarrelsome. He felt the lack of 
respect existing between the two, and his reaction was 
disobedience, impatience, and defiance. 
The family had very little furniture and the home was 
unattractive and in very poor condition. He sought more 
congenial and, for him, enjoyable surroundings at the 
earliest possible age. 
The fact that the mother was too busy to give him per- 
sonal care or attention, either before or after his father’s 
death, threw him upon his own resources. 
Home influence and family affection had been non- 
existent in his life. 
(e) Mental Interests: 
Mechanical and electrical devices exclusively. 
The Teeatment 
As the last resource before the final one of the Reformatory, he 
was very unwillingly dragged into the Orphanage, one bright day, 
by the exhausted, perspiring social worker, to whom had been as- 
signed the extremely difficult task of convoying him to his new 
home. The unfortunate young woman had taken him duly from 
his own home before noon, and deeming the time particularly ap- PRECOCIOUS 
269 
propriate and timely, had endeavored mildly and gently to show 
him the error of his ways by tactful reproofs. To her intense 
amazement and horror, he stopped right in the street before her, 
stuck out his tongue at her, and, as if that were not sufficiently 
humiliating, put his hand to his nose, called her a vile name, and 
disappeared before her astounded eyes. 
Then began the wanderings of the young woman from street to 
street; and finally, when the day was well advanced, she enlisted 
the assistance of the mother and the two at last discovered him 
in a machine-shop, from which he was taken protesting and swear- 
ing. The unhappy young woman, anxious to perform her duty 
and take him to the Home, coaxed, pleaded, and bribed, and finally, 
after many extravagant promises, got his consent to accompany 
her. She took the precaution of silence and held tightly to his arm 
the entire way. 
His frown was heavy and black. “What’s yer think I am?” he 
queried belligerently, his black eyes roving over the many handy 
articles upon the desk. “ Yer got anoder guess coming, if yer think 
I’m goin’ to stay in yer old home — nixie doin’.” 
The ink-well was quickly removed from his vision which had 
been persistently focused upon it, and attention directed to the 
“interesting” filthy box he carried carefully in the crook of his 
arm. 
“Hi, what’s that? That’s my patent, that’s what it is — yer 
want ter see it?” 
An eager assent and interest most tactfully displayed, and his 
scowl changed to a bright look and he opened his precious “patent” 
and displayed what seemed to be a circle of twisted bits of wires, 
nails, and coils, which sprung into action and emitted sparks as he 
dexterously touched a tiny plug. 
“See that,” he said, triumphantly, “that’s no fool thing I tell 
yer. Yer don’t have to recharge batteries when I got my ‘patent’ 
— see?” 
With that he started to demonstrate the powers of his wonderful 
invention, and finding an attentive and interested listener, asked 
for a dead battery that he might show how it would work. Within 
the next half-hour, he not only recharged the battery, but fixed 
two electric bells that had rather providentially got out of order, 
and did something to the potato-peeler that made it buzz so merrily, 
that the cook was with difficulty prevented from hugging him to 
death in her rapture. 
With the proud light of the victor in his gleaming, black eyes, 
he turned to his treasured box again, “Say, that guy Edison’s got 270 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
nothin’ on me, I tell yer,” he coolly observed, tapping his box 
significantly; “when I grow up, I’ll show him a thing — just yer 
see! Yer won’t have ter burn coal to make steam. He thinks he 
knows it all — huh! — not much; wait till I show ’im!” 
While the weary social worker, glad to be relieved of her burden, 
adroitly absconded, Edison’s future rival held forth in fiery and 
picturesque language of the wonders he was going to invent and of 
the enormous amounts of money he was going to make which 
should be spent for batteries and engines and machines of vast 
proportions, for nearly an hour. Asked whether he was n’t hungry, 
he retorted contemptuously, “Aw, what’s the good of eatin’? 
Only fools eat three meals a day; I only eat when I’m hungry — 
and I have n’t got time to be hungry.” 
He condescended, however, to grant the special privilege of his 
company for the evening meal, after which he promptly gave the 
following information: “Say, yer don’t need to think that I’m 
going to stay here, because I won’t. Yer can’t make me stay 
either; I ain’t no charity case, and I don’t want none of yer 
charity, so I’m goin’ to clear out.” 
He immediately proceeded to make good his threat. That 
night he disappeared, was returned the next day, disappeared 
again, was returned, and so on, six times in two weeks. 
At his last escapade, he was again taken into the office, grim, 
defiant, and rebellious. A picture of Thomas Edison was produced 
and laid before him; he blinked and regarded it with animosity. 
“You think you’re going to be a greater man than he when you 
grow up? Do you think he would act like you in your place?” 
he was asked; and then followed a description of the early life and 
struggles of the great man. 
He listened intently and with absorbed interest. At the close, 
he said sullenly, “That’s just what I want to do, like him, make 
my own way. He was n’t in no institution and I ain’t goin’ to be 
— my mother has a grocery store and I don’t have to be in no 
institution.” 
After many arguments, a decision was finally reached to which 
he agreed. It was proposed that he give the institution a fair and 
square trial for a month (not thirty-one days; he expressly had it 
understood as thirty days), and if at the end of that time, he still 
felt that he did not want to stay in the institution, then he would 
be returned to his environment and no one would molest him 
further. 
He was scrupulously honest and had a strong moral sense, as 
evinced by his statement at the end of the interview. “I do just PRECOCIOUS 
271 
what I promise,” he stated, “and I’ll stay here for a whole month 
even if it makes me bughouse.” 
During the thirty days’ grace, he was permitted to fix up a 
“tool shop” for himself in a corner of the basement. Here he 
brought a most remarkable collection of batteries, broken pipes, 
strange coils, odd twisted wires and cords, a motley collection of 
“junk” as the children called the prized treasures, when at rare 
moments he graciously permitted them to have a peep into his 
“shop.” 
He was given all the electrical and mechanical jobs that had 
to be done in the house and in the nearby neighbors’ houses, and 
he proved himself extraordinarily proficient in fixing and mend- 
ing things. Often, in order to keep him supplied with “jobs,” it 
was necessary to remove fuses from fuse-boxes, take out plugs, cut 
wires, and perform such other destructiveness. Knowing his aver- 
sion to school, that matter was completely overlooked for the 
time, and he was permitted to spend the whole day doing his be- 
loved “jobs,” and really was so skillful that the plumber, the 
carpenter, and the electrician were unnecessary. 
He consented with rather poor grace to a physical examina- 
tion, and then strenuously objected to having his tonsils and 
adenoids “yanked out” as he expressed it, and his teeth given atten- 
tion. “That all was n’t in the bargain,” he grumbled; but though 
he objected and fought, he honorably held to the agreement. He 
very reluctantly consented to wear clean clothes and use plenty 
of soap and water. To the food given him four times a day, he 
grunted approval and remarked, “Them things don’t do yer no 
harm anyways.” He rather liked the games and amusements of 
the children, but was ashamed of his gracelessness and would not 
participate. He gave a boy a bloody nose because the youngster 
laughed and mocked at him when he tried to play ball. But a 
few days later, he played ball as well as any of the boys. It was 
skating time, and he had been kept busy fixing skates. Finally 
he mustered enough courage to borrow a pair and try skating. 
He returned rosy and glowing. “Gee,” he exclaimed, “that’s some 
fun, you bet.” 
Once during the day, he would come into the office for a general 
chat, or to express his general dissatisfaction with things or com- 
plain about some “rowdy,” to whom he had promised a beating 
for “getting fresh,” or trying to get into his “shop.” He was in- 
troduced to the theatres and said the only people worth seeing were 
those who did “tricks”; everything else, including the moving 
pictures, were for “sissies.” 272 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
The eve of the twenty-ninth day, he entered the office. “Say,” 
he greeted, “you’re a regalar guy and I like you. I guess I want 
to stay here.” After which dubious compliment, he took himself 
off without further remark. 
A friendship had been “hooked up.” 
The next day the question of school was very tactfully broached. 
He flared up at once. “What for?” he demanded. “Them teach- 
ers can’t learn me nothin’. Do they know how to fix things? 
Nope! Their fingers is like putty; what is the use of their learnin’? 
They can’t make no patents. I fixed all the things that broke in 
the school, — ask Miss W , — they could n’t do it. I don’t 
care if I don’t know that four and five make eight.” 
For answer, a beautifully illustrated book on electrical engineer- 
ing was craftily put into his hands. He took it indifferently, opened 
several pages, became instantly interested, and wildly enthusiastic 
about “them fine machines.” The cut of one appliance specially 
entranced him. “Gee, I wish I knew what all that printing says,” 
he remarked impatiently. 
That was the opportunity sought for! 
“Do you think that engineer could have written and told people 
about his wonderful machine, if he had never learned to read and 
write?” he was asked. 
The force in the query struck him. His eyes were wide with 
thought. A new vista seemed suddenly to have been opened 
before him. While he was pondering, the advantages of an educar- 
tion were carefully explained; he was requested to think what 
manner of a man the writer of the book would have been, if he, 
too, could not read or write, and thought that “five and Jour make 
eight.” Also, did not Edison, whom he intended to rival, have a 
good education, so that he could read, write, and direct people? 
“Well,” — he sighed deeply, and shook his head as if in sub- 
mission to a bitter fate, — “it’s no use; I see I have ter get an 
eddication. Here goes! Aw right! I start to school to-morrow.” 
He tramped out despondently, the book clutched in his hand. 
The next day he was admitted to school and put in the First 
Grade. His pride revolted at being a member of the “kid class”; 
but he had pledged his word to stick it out, and though his early 
school career was attended with some difficulty, he pluckily stuck 
to his task, and, in four years, made the eight grades of the gram- 
mar school. There were times when he had to withstand tempta- 
tions that tried his soul; once in particular, an early crony of his, 
an engineer on one of the railroads, told him he was wasting time 
in school and could, with his natural ability, easily become an PRECOCIOUS 
273 
electrical engineer; also that he was willing to assist him to such an 
opportunity. The boy came into the office and frankly stated his 
dilemma, saying that he did not feel that he should trust to his 
own judgment. 
As he became accustomed to the normal life in the Orphanage, 
his health improved, he became less nervous, and in time the 
enuresis with which he had been troubled totally disappeared. He 
joined the Boy Scouts, became a Monitor, and had the happy in- 
fluence of a wholesome environment to counteract the virus of his 
former happy-go-lucky life. 
His “patent” slumbered peacefully in his shop, till such time 
as he was a real electrical engineer and could perfect it to such a 
degree that Washington would grant him a patent on it. Mean- 
while, his kit of tools, which were real tools now (he was worth 
his weight in gold to the institution for the number of “jobs” he 
did as well as any professional), was his greatest delight, and he 
gradually became known as a “genius” to the neighborhood, 
which constantly demanded his services. He actually had a small 
income from the “jobs” he was doing for people, and was quite 
happy and prosperous. 
He had completely lost all his old terrors and fears, and was a 
normal, wholesome lad — an asset to the institution. 
He was quite unhappy when he learned that his friend, the 
Superintendent, was leaving for another city. He begged to be 
permitted to accompany him, and when it was explained that that 
would be impossible, he declared with his old violence, that he 
was going to make it his business to make it possible. “ You’ll see, 
I’ll be in B before you’re there very long,” he threatened. 
The Result 
For about a year, the boy continued with his high-school 
studies, doing his odd “jobs” at the Home, and bombarding his 
friend with letters, begging that he be permitted to come to B . 
In August, 1921, the following report was received: 
“Home conditions were reinvestigated for his possible discharge 
from the Orphanage. Mother had sold store, as business was no 
longer profitable. She was quite willing to have boy return home. 
The Children’s Bureau thinks, however, that he should not be 
permitted to return home, as he might give up school and go to 
work. The boy is very anxious to go to B , to be with his 
friend, and take advantage of the excellent schools of Technology 
offered in B . 
“Sept. 6, 1921. — At Children’s Bureau meeting, Mr. C 274 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
reported that the boy insists on going to B , and that sufficient 
funds were secured from a few interested friends for him. Com- 
munications regarding the matter to be held with B 
Psychiatrist’s report on boy, now sixteen years old, on Novem- 
ber 9, 1921: 
Intelligence: Satisfactory. I. C. 1.15. Mental capacity 18 
years. 
Character: Apparently good basis and good organization. 
Health: Good. 
Impression: Boy’s interest in entering the Mechanics’ Arts 
School in B appears to be a normal one and should be en- 
couraged. 
On a stormy night in late November, 1921, somewhere near mid- 
night, a light, timid knock sounded upon the door of the Super- 
intendent’s apartments at the B Orphanage. 
When the door opened, there stood a rain-soaked, bedraggled, 
and weary figure, carrying the well-remembered “patent” in the 
familiar crook of the arm, a great, heavy tool-chest in the other 
hand, which also clutched a stout rope bound about a sort of 
telescopic case, hanging like a caudal appendage behind the boy 
and his paraphernalia. 
“Well,” he remarked with a triumphant grin, “I’m here. I 
told you I would come, did n’t I?” 
Well, he was here, — bag, baggage, and “patent,” — and he 
was quite happy, in spite of long wanderings with a heavy load on 
a bitter, wild night. 
“It was no use; I just meant business,” he declared; “I told 
them that they would be in my way and not let me make any 
progress in my work. When I’m an electrical engineer, I’ll go 
back and give them all a lift; now I got to get a lift myself. When 
do you want me to start at the Tech?” 
Well, he started his “Tech,” works happily three hours each 
day at the well-equipped machine-shop at the school, and digs 
away another three hours, not so happily, at “book learning,” 
which, if not as beloved, is still industriously conned. 
Here, too, he has fixed up a shop with his tools, such prized pos- 
sessions as a lathe, drill-press, electric emery-wheel, and screw- 
drivers, monkey-wrenches, and what not; takes special delight in 
the carpentry class, and himself teaches a class of six boys whom 
he picked for aptness and intelligence, besides doing “jobs” for 
the institution. 
Should he ever desire to write books in reference to the various PRECOCIOUS 
275 
“patents” he is still going to secure at Washington, without a 
doubt he will have the necessary education to do so. As for the 
“patents” — he is still absorbingly interested in everything elec- 
trical and mechanical, and still uses every dollar he earns doing a 
“job” to increase his priceless stock of tools, and still hopes to 
rival the great Edison. 
In consultation with Dr. H , the psychiatric authority, the 
following report was given in January, 1922: 
Summary, — 
Physical: Fair development and nutrition. Fairly good strength. 
Friendly expression. Question of eyesight. 
Mental: Good general ability, but exceedingly irregular. (Per- 
haps influenced on some tests by attitude.) Strangely poor in 
visualizations. Poor apperceptions. Not good in motor-control. 
Poor in arithmetic, even in simple arithmetic. Very poor in follow- 
ing printed directions. Good rote -learning ability. Good language 
ability. Exceedingly good mechanical ability shown in many ways. 
Personality characteristics very important: immensely eccentric, 
notional, self-assertive, non-conformist, somewhat of a poser. In- 
different to many suggestions, but if convinced and pride aroused, 
evidently exerts himself. Mostly pleasant, manly; takes himself 
and his own problems very seriously. Reported sensitive, loyal, 
honest. Reported earlier very imaginative; almost hallucinations. 
Non-delinquent, but formerly excessive truant. 
Problem: Vocational and educational guidance. 
Background: (a) Heredity: Father dead. Mother somewhat 
unreliable. Her family unknown. (Siblings: Older brother shift- 
less; younger brother dishonest.) (b) Developmental: Irregular, 
(c) Home conditions: Mother keeps small store. This boy in Or- 
phanage since 11 years old. Followed Superintendent to B 
last September. (d) There are many interesting features of this 
case that appear, such as this boy’s early refusal to go to school 
and then making up 8 grades in 4 years, etc. (e) Difficulty in 
school because of lack of elementary training. 
Outlook: If this boy desires to become an electrical engineer, as 
he states, then he ought to be allowed to go a little way in that 
course and be shown where his deficiencies lie, and then should 
make them up. It would be absolutely impossible for him to make 
any great progress until he does better in mathematics, and also 
will have to learn to comprehend more rapidly what he reads. Is 
very well fitted for mechanical work but will not get very far unless 
he develops in the above subjects. We wonder whether he could 
get employment next summer in a place where he could see that 276 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
the men higher up have to have a better academic education. 
Eyes should be at once examined by a specialist. 
(Superintendent certainly has done wonderful work for this boy, 
who undoubtedly shows considerable genius. It remains to be seen 
whether the boy will conform enough to get education sufficient 
to know the fundamentals of mechanics. Another question is 
whether this boy’s very peculiar personality trends will enable 
him to float successfully. He evidently is a case for mental 
hygiene; and, particularly during his adolescent period, it is very 
wise for him to be under the auspices of the Superintendent. 
School-adjustments will have to be made entirely according to 
what the boy will take up. We would, of course, think of such a 
place as W Institute.) CASE B 
POLLY S , “MISS SPITFIRE” 
Entered May 6, 1917. Age 9 years 
The Problem 
1. Delinquency 
(a) Stealing from mother and the neighbors. 
(b) Insolent and defiant to stepfather, at whom she was fond 
of throwing all sorts and sizes of missiles within her reach, 
during an attack of fury. 
(c) Incorrigible beggar, liar, and mischief-maker. 
(d) Anti-social. Extremely quarrelsome and abusive. 
(e) Horribly profane language at the slightest provocation. 
Her hand always ready to strike and her mouth open to 
give utterance to her favorite expressions: “I hate you! 
I’ll kill you! I’ll stick a knife in your liver!” 
(/) Stayed out very late at night fighting, brawling, and 
creating as much havoc as lay in her power, in the neigh- 
borhood, with both old and young. 
2. The School 
(а) Occasional truancy. 
(б) Reached the First Grade, and could go no further. 
(c) Teacher reported that at times the girl was quite bright, 
and at other times acted as if she were feeble-minded. Also, 
that she had frequent epileptic attacks during sessions. 
(d) Disrespectful and insulting to the principal and teachers. 
Defiant of their authority, scornful of their punishments, 
and hurling the vilest insults at them at any opportunity 
that presented itself. 
(e) Maintained that she did not like school, and wanted 
nothing to do with “them d—n fools.” 
3. Home 
(а) Extremely troublesome and mischievous. 
(б) Took a malicious delight in “staging” a quarrel between 
her mother and stepfather, and would stand fiendishly 
by and throw oil upon the fire, by encouraging the former 
and taunting and tormenting the latter. 
277 278 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
(c) Fond of stealing into her stepfather’s bedroom, and taking 
from the pockets whatever she found. 
(d) Unmanageable, audacious, and defiant. 
(e) Furious tantrums and vile language at the least provoca- 
tion. 
4. Society 
(a) Frowned and scowled away any attempt to befriend her. 
(b) A mischievous “busybody,” who would peep through 
key-holes, slyly listen to conversations, and so exaggerate 
and color her reports of them to interested parties, that 
grief was frequently the unhappy result. 
(c) Teased and hated the children of the neighborhood, and 
tormented their elders with petty thefts, obscene language, 
and the most atrocious lies. 
(d) Violent outbursts of rage, followed by epileptic attacks 
at any attempt to cross her. 
(e) In January, 1917, the mother complained to the Children’s 
Bureau that the girl was incorrigible. 
In April, 1917, neighbors had the child brought to the 
Juvenile Court on the charge of stealing $15. 
1. Physical 
(а) Short for her age; thin, pale, almost livid complexion; 
staring light gray eyes, and scanty brown hair. 
(б) Features, though small, yet decidedly matured. 
(c) Heavy, dark brows in continual frown render the face 
unchildlike, and impart a sinister effect to the features. 
(d) Large mouth, somewhat deformed by an upward twist 
at one of the corners, evidently caused by some cut or 
wound that had not received proper medical attention. 
(e) Bad, carious teeth; enlarged and swollen tonsils and ade- 
noids. The tongue was a poor, pitiful object to behold. 
Bitten into and lacerated by her teeth during convulsions 
and “spells,” it had been sewed in many places, and was 
very badly scarred and had jagged edges. 
(/) Her body was bruised in many places, probably the results 
of blows or falls. 
(g) Lips constantly quivering and fingers clenching and un- 
clenching. Drooping head, round shoulders, and unsteady 
gait. Enuresis. 
The Analysis PRECOCIOUS 
279 
2. Mental 
(a) Examinations — From Benevolent Society’s Records: 
“In 1915, the child was brought to the hospital in a state 
of collapse. She was frothing at the mouth, gnashing 
her teeth, and rolling her eyes. Dr. R diagnosed 
the case as an epileptic fit. 
“In 1916, the same physician treated her for convulsions, 
and said she was mentally defective. 
“Six months later, the consulting psychiatrist of the hos- 
pital diagnosed the case as a mild form of epilepsy. 
He recommended that the child be permitted to remain 
in her home under treatment, provided home conditions 
were favorable. 
“In December, 1916, Dr. T , the M H psy- 
chiatrist, examined the girl, and reported that she was 
precocious, not retarded in any way. He believed that 
much of the child’s behavior was due to improper home 
surroundings and to the mother’s temperament. He 
did not consider her delinquent or incorrigible, and ad- 
vised that she be placed in the Orphanage. 
“A few days after Dr. T saw the girl, she had an epi- 
leptic attack in school. She was brought to the Peoples’ 
Dispensary and examined by Dr. H J , who diag- 
nosed her case as epilepsy or hysteria. 
“In April, 1917, after being brought into the Juvenile 
Court for theft, she was sent to the Psychiatric Clinic 
and examined. She was found to be one year retarded, 
but showed no evidence of abnormality. Dr. D 
recommended that the girl be removed from the home 
at once. She was also examined by Dr. K ■, who 
said she was epileptic and mentally undeveloped. He 
advised that she be admitted to R (an institution 
for the feeble-minded).” 
Psychiatrist’s Report at time of child’s admission to the 
Orphanage, May, 1917: 
Intelligence: Mental capacity 8 years. I. C. .85. Social 
classification backward. 
Character: Poor foundation, with an hereditary basis. 
History of spasms for a number of years. 
Character poorly organized. 
Health: Very poor. Irregular convulsive attacks, simu- 
lating epilepsy. 
Impression: My impression has always been that this 280 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
girl would best be treated in an institution where she 
might receive sympathetic, scientific supervision. The 
social agency dealing with the case, however, has felt 
differently, and the girl has been placed in a number of 
boarding homes. The result has always shown an 
improved condition directly; but a slump, after a few 
weeks, to a still worse condition, with more frequent 
spasms. 
(6) Personality Traits: 
Careless in dress and about person. When in tantrums, 
would consciously or unconsciously tear clothes, throw 
her head against the wall, and stamp violently upon the 
floor. 
Extremely talkative, and speaks rapidly and thought- 
lessly; apparently gives utterance to anything and every- 
thing the moment it occurs to her. Frequently incoherent 
in speech. 
Very obstinate, and determined to have her own way 
at any cost. 
Spiteful and revengeful. Harbors a wrong, real or 
fancied, till it becomes an obsession. Feels satisfied when 
she has given better than she received. 
Keen, shrewd sense of values. Unconscious sense of 
humor. 
Absolutely fearless. Imaginative and possessing un- 
bounded curiosity. 
No sex tendencies. 
3.) Social 
(a) Heredity: 
Father: first became known to the Benevolent Society 
when he applied for aid for his family in 1914. 
He was a passive, luckless individual, without a trade, 
who eked out a scanty existence from the odd jobs he was 
always getting and losing. He was regarded as a stupid, 
good-natured fellow, without initiative and without the 
backbone to bear up under trouble or misfortune. 
He was illiterate, and improvidently married when he 
was hardly able to maintain himself. No viciousness of 
any kind and no known bad habits were imputed to him 
during his lifetime. 
His only known relatives, a brother and a sister, were, 
like him, weak and easy-going individuals, whose poverty 
prevented them from coming to his assistance at any time. PRECOCIOUS 
281 
A sense of pride undoubtedly kept him from applying 
to the Society for assistance sooner than he did. When 
aid was first rendered to his indigent family, he was found 
to be suffering from a severe rectal disease and general 
debility. He also had a physical deformity of the lower 
limbs, which had been neglected for years. 
In the winter of 1915, he was taken very ill, contracted 
pneumonia, and died at the hospital. 
Mother: a woman of ordinary intelligence, had no more 
than a primary-school education. She came from a family 
of normal, hard-working laborers, who had always lived 
from hand to mouth. Several of her brothers were em- 
ployed as tailors, working hard to support their own large 
families. Two of her sisters had married and were living 
in other cities. They too were poverty-stricken. 
Frequent miscarriages had depleted her energies, and 
her three children, born within six years, kept her con- 
stantly occupied. At the time of her husband’s death, 
she had a fibroid condition of the chest but no definite 
T. B. She was under-nourished and extremely nervous. 
The family had no source of income other than was sup- 
plied it by the Benevolent Society. Her children were 
frequently ill, and she refused to have them removed to 
the hospital when they most seriously needed trained 
medical attention. She frustrated all efforts to have them 
examined, claiming that her antagonism to hospitals was 
caused by her husband’s death. ‘‘They didn’t care for 
him right at the hospital; that’s why he died,” she 
insisted. 
In April, 1916, a group of indignant neighbors visited 
the Society’s offices, and reported that she had been as- 
sociating with a married man of ill-repute, for a long time. 
On being questioned, the woman admitted that the man 
visited her occasionally, and that she intended to marry 
him as soon as he secured a divorce from his wife, who was 
then living in another state. 
Investigation showed that the man had deserted his 
wife and several young children, and had no known legiti- 
mate means of livelihood. As the wife was quite anxious 
to secure a divorce from him, — “to get rid of him for- 
ever,” as she stated, — the woman was advised to have 
nothing to do with the man till the divorce from his wife 
had been granted. She consented to abide by this ar- 
rangement. 282 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
In September, 1916, she married the man, though facts 
were presented to her proving that he had served a term 
of two years in the penitentiary, on the charge of at- 
tempting to shoot a girl. 
After this second marriage, there was constant quarrel- 
ing between the pair. The woman was greatly depressed, 
and complained that her husband was a gambler and ill- 
treated her. On one occasion she came running to the 
Society, alleging that the man had deserted her and that 
she was in want. However, he returned within a few 
days, giving the excuse that he had been so busy playing 
cards with a friend, that he had not noticed the passing 
of time. 
Later, the unhappiness in the home increased, and he 
complained that it was caused by the younger girl, who 
hated and despised him, and was always tormenting him, 
assisted by her brother, two years older than she. The 
man affirmed his suspicion that the little girl was encour- 
aging her brother to assist her in preventing any harmony 
between him and his wife, and threatened to desert the 
family, unless he were rid of the two children. He was 
fond of the oldest girl, twelve years old. 
In December, 1917, when both younger children had 
been removed from the home, the woman reported that 
her husband wanted to leave her and go to France. He 
also wanted her to divorce him. The following month she 
gave birth to his child, and, a few weeks later, had him 
arrested for beating her. He was paroled. 
The woman is unattractive in appearance, slovenly, 
very irritable and excitable, and has the reputation in 
her neighborhood of having “a nasty, big mouth.” 
Siblings: Oldest sister, a girl of good physique, fair ap- 
pearance and rather poor mentality. Her progress at 
school was slow, and she either could not, or would not, 
industriously apply herself to her studies. 
She was inclined to be indolent and easy-going, and gave 
no trouble either to her mother or stepfather; the latter 
displayed a certain fondness for her, which was regarded 
not without trepidation by the charitable organizations. 
Her younger brother’s and sister’s delinquencies in no 
wise affected her, and she made no effort to assist in their 
care. She was affectionate to her mother and liked her 
stepfather, who, she agreed was maltreated by the two 
younger children. PRECOCIOUS 
283 
She expressed no definite ambitions or interests. 
Older brother, was the companion and very frequently 
the “tool” of his younger sister, who spurred him on to 
mischief, especially against the stepfather, who treated 
him with great brutality. 
He was under-nourished and poorly developed for his 
age. His head was of a peculiar conical shape, which later, 
in the Orphanage, brought him the nickname of “Pea- 
nut” from the children. 
In 1915, at that time nine years of age, he was reported 
to the Children’s Bureau as being troublesome and “very 
bad” in school. Upon investigation, it was learned that 
the boy’s deportment was good, his scholarship fair, and 
that he attended school regularly. He appeared to be 
greatly neglected, and looked starved. 
Shortly after, it was again reported that the boy was 
exceedingly mischievous and could not be handled by the 
mother. Finally, the news came that he had been brought 
into the Juvenile Court the third time, for stealing. 
He was examined by Dr. T , the psychiatrist, who 
reported that the boy’s case was rather unusual. He 
passed a number of intelligence tests, which were normal 
for his age, while he missed some which were far below 
his age. Dr. T stated that it was possible that the 
boy was approaching the limit of his mental development. 
He advised that he be placed in the Orphanage. 
In October, 1916, the mother brought the complaint 
that the boy was incorrigible. She said he would not 
attend school and that he would leave the house early in 
the morning and remain out till late at night. This time, 
the boy’s teacher reported that he was a truant. 
The stepfather claimed that he could do nothing with the 
boy. On October 26, he was sent to a disciplinary school. 
He was released in April, 1917, and recommitted a month 
later, on the complaint of his mother and stepfather. 
The following month, he was released, as a case which 
was not in need of severe discipline, and was then ad- 
mitted to the Orphanage, about one month later than his 
sister. 
He was put on a special diet, and efforts were made to 
build up his physical condition, which was extremely poor. 
The psychiatrist who examined him reported the 
following: 284 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
Intelligence: Inferior. I. C. .71. 
Character: Poor hereditary basis; poorly organized. 
Health: Appears normal. 
Impression: A case for vocational adjustment on or 
after fourteen years of age. 
In the Orphanage, he responded favorably to the meas- 
ures taken for his physical improvement; and while at 
first he was an inveterate thief and liar, in time, with 
patience and care, he was made to yield to the influences 
that were brought to bear upon him. 
He became interested in games and sports, was per- 
mitted to learn type-setting, which appealed strongly to 
him, and later even qualified as a Boy Scout. He had no 
difficulty in school from the very start, and made excel- 
lent progress in his studies. 
His intellect was mediocre, but he was willing, industri- 
ous, and showed some aptitude as a printer. After his 
second year at the Home, he gave no further trouble, and 
developed into an honest and reliable young fellow. 
When last heard from, which was in November, 1922, 
he was employed on a newspaper as a printer, living with 
his mother, and contributing part of his salary toward 
the support of the home. 
Baby sister, too young for any analysis. 
(b) Developmental: 
She had been a premature baby, weighing five pounds 
at birth; and from the mother’s statement that “she 
was always crying and vomiting,” it may be assumed that 
she was colicky and had suffered from digestive disturb- 
ances. 
Her parents’ extreme poverty undoubtedly prevented 
her from receiving the proper nourishment and care; 
several of the neighbors had taken her into their homes 
during those intervals in her early childhood, when her 
mother was ill or “ so nervous and excited that she could n’t 
care for the child.” 
As a tiny girl, she displayed a fiery temper, which at 
first caused great amusement, and later was a cause for 
lamentation. Her mother thought that the gossip she 
picked up from the neighbors and brought to her was 
“cute”; and being desirous of keeping abreast with the 
neighborhood affairs, encouraged the child to keep her 
eyes and ears wide open and report to her what she saw 
and heard. PRECOCIOUS 
285 
When the neighbors discovered that the little girl, who 
was the recipient of their sympathetic attentions, was the 
direct cause of many tongue-lashings they received from 
her mother, and also the instrument which had produced 
much discord and bitterness among themselves, they for- 
bade her to enter their homes. The child, not understand- 
ing their motives, felt that they had affronted her, and 
endeavored to get even by becoming a general nuisance to 
them. 
Finding that they objected strenuously to the flock of 
colored children who were at her beck and call, she spite- 
fully brought as many colored children as she could gather 
together, to the very doors of the neighbors’ homes. When 
they threatened her, she taunted them with things she 
had heard, or imagined she had heard, about their affairs, 
and brought their animosity upon her head. 
She would influence the neighborhood’s little “toughs” 
to break windows, pull out bells, scratch off paint, and 
write obscene words on her neighbors’ walls and doors. 
Most of the usual children’s ailments had fallen to her 
lot, and always she had recovered at home, though given 
scant care. At the age of seven, she was suddenly stricken 
with spinal meningitis. Upon her recovery, she became 
subject to “spells,” which the physician who had attended 
her diagnosed as “chronic epileptic seizures, resulting 
from her severe illness.” 
If she had been a nuisance before, she now became a 
menace to the long-suffering neighborhood, which feared 
to cross her, lest she have a “fit.” She would have a spell 
after almost every tantrum; and as her spells of fury were 
many, so also were the epileptic spells which followed. 
Now she practically lived in the streets, doing generally 
what she pleased, as her mother’s attitude toward her was 
one of indifference; and the neighbors, while they pitied 
the unfortunate little creature, were still afraid to en- 
courage any intimate relations with her. 
Her father’s death brought little change in her affairs, 
as she continued to roam the streets at will. When her 
stepfather first called to see her mother, she took a violent 
dislike to the man and ordered him from the house. Upon 
his refusal to go, she grabbed a bottle of beer from the 
table, and flung it at him. Though the man nimbly 
avoided contact with her missile, he neither forgave nor 286 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
forgot, with the result that there was constant warfare 
between the two. 
About this time, the Social Agency interested in the 
case, having had the child examined, and being desirous 
of giving her the benefit of the suggestion that she be re- 
moved from her home to a more wholesome environment, 
secured an excellent boarding home for her. For several 
weeks, the child seemed greatly benefited by the change, 
then returned to her former habits with a vengeance. The 
foster-mother asked to be relieved of her at once. 
The same results followed in the other boarding homes 
to which she was sent successively. She was returned to 
her mother. In her home she found the man she detested 
a frequent and welcomed guest. Thereupon, all the rage 
and hatred that had been filling her heart for the many 
to whom she believed she owed some kind of a grudge 
became centred upon one object, and she sought every 
opportunity to show her dislike. She influenced her 
brother to become her ally in schemes and plans to tor- 
ment the man and make his visits unpleasant. 
Frequently he retaliated by giving her a sound beating 
which served only to infuriate her the more. She would 
then fight back with the nearest missile at hand, and puny 
little fists, till she had a “fit.” 
The man ultimately got his revenge when he married 
the mother. He refused to permit the child in the home; 
and whether the weather was mild or severe, she would be 
compelled to sleep anywhere but in the house, when he 
was there. Very often, she spent a night in the hallway 
or under the stoop of the house. Nor would he permit 
any food to be given her, maintaining that none of his 
money should be expended in “feeding up that devil.” 
The mother at first weakly remonstrated; then, intimi- 
dated by the man’s threats of desertion if she harbored 
the child, meekly abandoned her in his presence, and tried 
to pass a crust to her now and then, slyly and secretly, 
through a window or a door. She had succeeded in dis- 
posing of the boy, who had also been a bone of contention 
between her husband and herself, but the girl still remained 
a troublesome problem to her by reason of the child’s 
affliction. 
The Social Agency had, at this juncture, made desperate 
efforts to keep the girl in a boarding home, but her tempera- PRECOCIOUS 
287 
ment, plus the “spells,” were entirely too much for any 
boarding mother. So the child now practically lived in 
the streets, eating what she could get from her mother or 
a sympathetic neighbor, and cared for only in the inter- 
vals when it was certain that the stepfather would not 
surprise her in the home. 
The question of her admission to the Orphanage had 
been under consideration for some time at the Children’s 
Bureau; but in view of the fact that her epileptic fits 
came suddenly and unexpectedly, it was not considered 
wholesome or desirable for the children to witness any 
such seizures. However, as matters grew from bad to 
worse, and the boarding home was completely abandoned 
as a resource for the unfortunate child, it became emi- 
nently necessary to dispose of her in some institution. It 
was then that the Orphanage opened its doors — hardly 
daring to hope. 
(c) Habits and Interests: 
Fond of teasing, poking fun at people and children, and 
delighted in distorting names and substituting ridiculous 
nicknames instead. 
Readily submits to any demands by one she likes, but 
flies off in a fury at the slightest request of anybody she 
dislikes. 
When pleased with one, would give expression to such 
endearments as “dearest, darling, you!” whether old or 
young; when displeased, out would fly, glibly and rapidly, 
at one breath: “You pig, rat, dog, cat, mouse!” to either 
man or child, indiscriminately. 
Wistfully wondered several times a day, whether “the 
whole world would be sorry if I killed myself dead.” 
Constant ponderings about suicide and how it felt to be 
dead. 
Had no desire for any playthings or books. Cared 
nothing for the moving-picture houses, and was not in- 
terested in the usual little girls’ games or other joys. 
Liked cats and dogs when they were “kittens.” She 
appeared afraid of black cats, becoming quite agitated at 
sight of one, and shrieking, “That black thing is going to 
bring me bad luck!” 
Very fond of carrying tales and causing mischief to 
particular friends or chums, whether children or grown- 
ups. 288 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
(d) Home Conditions: 
The first home the child knew was in a particularly poor 
and unkempt neighborhood, and almost from her infancy 
she was acquainted with poverty, misery, and unhappiness. 
When wrangling and quarreling came into her code of the 
accepted order of things, it was quite natural for her 
neurotic temperament to be so influenced by her environ- 
ment, that she knew no other form of self-expression than 
through quarrels. 
Her neighbors’ distrust and suspicion of her she repaid 
in her own way, with resultant sorrow and unhappiness to 
herself. 
The mother’s marriage, to the man she hated with all 
her heart, aroused all her antagonism and fury; and as 
if the home was not unharmonious and unhappy enough 
for her, it now became the very source that brought on 
the frenzied rages always ending in epileptic fits. 
In her various boarding homes she was tolerated at the 
most for a few weeks, with the result that none of the 
homes was able to exert even a temporary beneficial result 
on the strange, furious spirit, that was yet a child. 
(e) Mental Interests: 
Devising ways and means to catch people she did not 
like, in what she imagined might be embarrassing situa- 
tions. 
Cudgeling her brains how to pun on names of people 
she met for the first time, whom, for some reason or other 
best known to her, she did not want to like, or who offended 
her in some way. 
Trying to find out “new swear words.” 
Endeavoring to decide whether, if she drank a whole 
bottle of ink, she would become a “nigger” or “die dead.” 
Also interested in the problem whether “they would do 
something to me if I stick a knife in that dog’s liver.” 
(Reference to her stepfather.) 
The Treatment 
She had been informed by her mother that now she must be a 
good girl and learn to behave, as she was going to be put into an 
institution, where she had better be good if she knew what was 
best for her. She faced her mother angrily and defiantly, shrieked 
violent curses upon all institutions, and defied them to take her PRECOCIOUS 
289 
as they had her brother. “I shan’t go, I shan’t, I tell you,” she 
yelled; “just let them come here to take me.” 
So it happened that when the worker called for her, she was 
suddenly greeted with volleys of sticks and stones at the very 
entrance to the house; and though a thorough search was made by 
the mother and the neighbors, the child could not be located. The 
worker retreated, sorely disgusted, but returned the next day; this 
time she was met by the child, surrounded by a body-guard of 
colored boys and girls, who assisted her to hurl defiance in shrill, 
vile oaths. It was only with great difficulty and most tactful per- 
suasion, that the child was finally prevailed upon to listen to the 
proposition suggested to her by the worker, that the two of them 
take a walk to talk over things between themselves. 
“What’ll you give me if I walk down the block with you?” 
queried the child. 
The worker held out a quarter tantalizingly, which the child 
immediately grabbed, grinned triumphantly at her followers, to 
whom she called out, “Wait here for me!” and with a “Come on, 
you!” to her escort, condescended to go as far as “that corner 
block.” Standing there, right under the lamp-post which she held 
on to, she relieved her mind about the things she thought of the 
people in the institution, and avowed her intention of remaining 
just where she d—n pleased. 
Her exasperated companion, eager to be relieved as soon as pos- 
sible of the unpleasant duty of taking her to the institution, begged, 
pleaded, and coaxed, all to no avail. The child remained adamant 
to all her entreaties. Finally, a passing cab brought an inspiration 
to the worker which was eagerly grasped. She signaled to the 
driver, and when he drove up to the curb, asked the child if she 
would n’t like a nice ride. “Sure thing,” gleefully cried the impish 
creature, jumping into the nearest seat, overjoyed at the prospect 
of her first ride. She was too busy testing the resilient powers of 
the strange and wholly satisfying cushions, which both interested 
and pleased her, to take note what instructions were being given 
the driver. 
During the entire ride, she amused herself immensely by making 
faces at all children she saw in the street, from the window of the 
cab, and manifested a keen delight in the thought that she was 
undoubtedly awakening envy in their bosoms with her unaccus- 
tomed splendor. Her joyous speculations, however, received a 
severe tumble, when the cab suddenly stopped before a large 
building; and when she peeped out in amazement, the realization 
came to her that she had been tricked. 290 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
Her fury rose in a second and knew no bounds. She shrieked 
and pulled her hair; dared anyone to take her out of the car or 
touch her; called the worker the most vile names, scratching the 
young woman’s hands and tearing her clothes. The latter, in 
desperation, hoping to avoid a gathering crowd and perhaps pre- 
vent a possible scandal, sent an S. O. S. message to the office by the 
driver, while she essayed to quiet the frantic child. 
“ Whoo, mister, you better git right outside and help the young 
lady; she sure is having some time with that little divil,” was the 
encouraging advice promptly presented, without preamble of any 
kind. 
A glance at the struggling, frenzied child sufficed to give warning 
of the necessity for calming her, if the “spell” that seemed im- 
minent was to be avoided. She would have none of the new- 
comer’s machinations for her removal from the machine. “I 
shan’t get out,” she screamed, her voice gasping with rage; “I 
won’t get out, I tell you! You can’t make me — I hate you, I hate 
you — I’ll kill you!” 
“All right, little girl, you need n’t come out if you don’t want 
to,” she was told quietly. 
She stopped abruptly in the midst of another yell, with mouth 
wide open, her lips quivering pitifully. 
“You may take her back home if she wants to go.” This was 
addressed to the worker, who nodded in comprehension, while the 
child gazed with round-eyed wonder. “We don’t want any chil- 
dren here who don’t want to come and have all the good things we 
give them.” 
“Ya, good things you give ’em!” she burst out in hot indigna- 
tion. “You make them kids starve and beat ’em black and blue 
— I know, ’cause Mrs. Jiggs told my momma so, and my momma 
says that I got to be good or you’ll kill me — ” 
“Sorry neither your mother nor Mrs. Jiggs told you the truth. 
Suppose you just come in and see the kids yourself. Just for a 
visit. If you don’t like the place, back home you go whenever you 
like.” 
“Cross your heart — hope to die, you’ll let me go home when I 
want?” she questioned, curiosity evidently getting the better of 
her reluctance as the sound of children’s voices at play came dis- 
tinctly to her ears. 
“Cross my heart — hope to die!” was the solemn assurance 
given her. 
“Aw right, then!” She bounded up suddenly, jumped out of 
the machine willingly, but stopped at the curb, stuck out her PRECOCIOUS 
291 
tongue with an ugly grimace at the poor abashed worker, shrieked, 
“I’m glad to get rid of you — you’re an ugly, cock-eyed cat!” 
and turned to enter the portals of her new home. 
That evening after supper, she was magnanimous enough to 
announce, “Guess I’ll try it here. That dog’s home now anyhow, 
an’ he chases me out all the time.” 
“What dog?” she was asked. 
“Doncherknow?” she queried in amazement, “that dog my 
momma got married to? Guess I’ll stick a knife in his liver and 
kill ’im.” 
Her physical condition was the first concern. She was put in 
charge of the nurse who had been prepared beforehand for the 
peculiar case, which, it was understood by her and the other mem- 
bers of the house, was to be handled with all possible gentleness 
and consideration. 
Upon being introduced to her future guardian, she sized up that 
lady with her keen, sharp glance, and said, “You don’t need to 
think I’ll be afraid of you, even if you are a nurse, ’cause I ain’t 
afraid of nobody. I spit on the doctor and the nurse who fixed my 
nose when I had a fit, ’cause they hurt me when they sewed me 
up.” She indicated the hardly healed scar across the bridge of her 
nose, and then, satisfied that she had issued warning enough for 
the day, permitted herself to retire. 
Following the physician’s advice, she was put upon a special 
diet, in which meats, acids, and all strongly spiced foods were 
eliminated. Bromides were administered as prescribed, three 
times daily. Quietude and naps were insisted upon, though she 
at first objected strenuously and threatened to run away. The 
nurse bore patiently with the wild tantrums aroused every day 
for one reason or another. The child protested wildly against the 
restraint upon her liberties, and could not understand why she 
should be compelled to retire early, or bathe regularly, asserting, 
“There’s no sense in wasting so much water, ’cause I’m clean”; 
and she insisted on being permitted to run the streets as the mood 
struck her. 
Her first few days at the Home were attended with violent ex- 
citement and commotion. She was like an animated top, spinning 
crazily and unable to stop. She was here, she was there; now she 
was advising the little girls what to do, then she was exhorting the 
big girls what not to do, or fighting with them and the boys, big 
or little, on general principles. She was defying the nurse and call- 
ing her ugly names, or she was teasing the cook and, the next 
moment, mocking a supervisor, or perhaps the janitor. 292 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
It was a particularly enjoyable pastime for her to stand in the 
front hall and insult the chance visitor. It took a certain gentleman, 
a good friend of the institution, some time to get over his rueful 
experience with her at that period. As he chanced to enter the 
hall at a time when she was parading up and down the corridor, 
she waylaid him with the gentle request for his name. Unsus- 
piciously, he complied with the apparently harmless demand, and 
the result was an instantaneous twisting and distorting of a per- 
fectly respectable cognomen, to the chagrin and no small discom- 
fort of its owner. 
She seemed to have a certain genius for nicknaming, and for 
ludicrously transposing names, which never failed to enrage those 
whom she chose so to torment. No newcomer escaped her, 
whether man or child; and if she could not learn his name, some 
particular feature was immediately made the butt of her uncanny 
powers, if for some reason he failed to make a good impression 
upon her. 
Her conduct was reproduced in school, to the shocked amaze- 
ment of the scandalized principal and teachers, who at first felt 
that the child was too abnormal to be permitted to mingle with 
the other children. Later, they freely admitted their error, but 
at the time, their outraged feelings revolted at the new pupil. 
While it was necessary to restrain her impulses and desires, it 
was important to permit free scope to her energies, in order to 
further the physical and mental developmental processes of her 
nature. She took kindly to the special food prepared for her; 
rather liked the experience of being taken to the Park, which she 
said was “lots nicer ’an A Street”; and enjoyed immensely the 
distinction of having a “nurse tagging after me like a swell.” 
The general experience of the private home with her had been 
an average of two weeks without epileptic spells. In her own 
home, it was understood that she had been in the habit of getting 
recurrent attacks of the malady about twice weekly. Now, as 
nearly a month had expired without a genuine “spell,” to the 
intense gratification of all interested, the hope was entertained 
that the epileptic fits had been grossly exaggerated. But it re- 
mained for her mother to shatter any such pleasing idea. That 
lady, struck with a sudden maternal desire to visit her daughter 
for the first time, in the Orphanage, called unexpectedly to see 
her; before the two had been in each other’s company for a half- 
hour, they had a violent dispute, which culminated for the child 
in a “fit.” The poor creature was then a dreadful sight to behold: 
writhing, with muscles tense and rigid, frothing mouth, and rolling PRECOCIOUS 
293 
eyes. For the next two days, she lay in bed, pale and wan, hardly 
able to rise, yet insisting that she be permitted to get up. “Oh, 
my eye!” she said, scornfully; “what a fuss you make about a 
little fit! that one was nothing; you oughter see some of ’em I had!” 
Still, perhaps subconsciously, she was pleased with the “fuss” 
made about her, for she went straight from the infirmary, when 
the nurse permitted her to leave her bed, to the office, and without 
any preliminaries, stated in her curt, emphatic tones, “Just you 
wait till I get hold of Mrs. Jiggs; I’ll show her how to go and tell 
lies about them kids starved and beat black and blue.” She 
blinked her eyes to emphasize her decision. “You just bet she’ll 
get it!” she added in a venomous whisper that boded ill for Mrs. 
Jiggs, whoever she might be. (It may not be amiss to mention 
here that ultimately Mrs. Jiggs “got it.”) 
“Perhaps Mrs. Jiggs was wrongly informed by somebody,” was 
a suggestion made, in the hope of its having a calming effect. 
“Then she has business to find out if the other Mrs. Jiggs was n’t 
telling her lots of lies,” she burst out stormily. 
“How do you know the other lady was also a Mrs. Jiggs?” 
She looked up in quick astonishment and laughed heartily, 
“Chee,” she cried exultingly, “he don’t know Mrs. Jiggs. Don’t 
you read them funny papers? Doncherknow Mrs. Jiggs in the 
papers — she’s such a mean, nasty thing — I hate her!” 
“Can you read the papers?” was now asked her in astonishment. 
“Oh, I can’t read, you know that!” she said disdainfully, “It’s 
Mickey Jones who’s in the Fourth Grade — he used to read them 
papers to me.” She shook her head proudly and boasted. “Ya, 
and also about murders, and hold-ups, and lots more things — you 
just bet I know all about ’em.” 
Her accomplishments were passed without comment. “But 
what has Mrs. Jiggs in the funny papers to do with the Mrs. Jiggs 
you know?” Curiosity really compelled the question. 
“Aw, my eye!” she ejaculated in wonder. “He don’t under- 
stand yet! Doncherknow that a mean, nasty lady is called Mrs. 
Jiggs, and that lady’s name is really Mrs. Brookes, but I hate her, 
so I call her Mrs. Jiggs, and now everybody does — see?” She 
laughed in her amusement and elation. 
“Don’t you think you’d like to learn to read the funny papers 
yourself?” 
“Guess so,” she said, indifferently; “the kids here read ’em 
to me when I want.” 
“But that does n’t make you learn how to read. Have you any 
idea what fine stories have been written for little girls to read and 
enjoy?” 294 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
“Who wrote them?” 
“People who like little girls.” 
She tossed her head in evident bewilderment. “Ain’t they 
crazy? Wliat for do they like little girls?” she queried. 
“Because it helps little girls to grow up good and fine ladies, if 
people are interested in them and give them nice things to read.” 
“Oh, my eye!” she was thinking deeply. Then, thoughtfully, 
“Guess when Mrs. Jiggs and my momma and the rest of them were 
little girls, nobody was ’terested in them — ain’t it?” 
“But people are interested in you. If you got picture-books 
with nice stories, would you try real hard and be a good girl at 
school and learn to read them?” 
“Guess it’s gonna be awful to sit still an’ not make fun of the 
teacher,” she answered slowly, considering; “but ’spose I better 
try.” 
And she did try! She was given various picture-books, profusely 
illustrated with colored pictures and written in monosyllables, 
which appealed to her and encouraged her newly aroused desire to 
learn to read for herself. Though she was often listless and 
fidgety at school, the teacher discerned a certain effort that she 
wras plainly trying to make, and encouraged and flattered her. 
Further to encourage her efforts and ambition, she was taken to 
a toy shop, which aroused her to rapture. She was promised that 
a certain big doll she coveted should be hers, if, at the end of the 
month, her report card made a good showing. The C of her report 
card really did not, in all justice, entitle her to the reward; but 
the C was such a distinct mark of progress and improvement, that 
it was felt wise to temper justice with charity. 
She named the doll “Dearest Darling,” and lavished on it a 
wealth of affection. It was a great comfort to her at all times, and 
a solace during and after her tantrums. She would confide to the 
doll her troubles and joys, and would then fly into a rage because 
it did not speak to her. “Dunce, big dunce,” she would scream, 
“why don’t you answer me? Why do you just look at me?” She 
would scold and curse at it till exhausted; then burst into a tem- 
pest of repentant sobs, clasp it to her heart, and beg its forgiveness. 
The next epileptic fit was caused by an agency other than the 
mother, who had been warned and whose visits were watched. 
There was in the institution a youngster gifted with surpassing 
cunning in devising the ways and means for money-making; per- 
haps a future financier, but at the present time never so happy as 
when planning and arranging a circus and charging a copper or 
two for admission; or offering to assist or prepare entirely the PRECOCIOUS 
295 
home-work for an indolent student at so much per page; or making 
a collection of fruit or cake or other sweetmeats from the children, 
to be sold outside to the highest bidder. 
On one occasion he had discovered a boy in a lower grade at 
his school, who was the proud possessor of a glass eye. He must 
have felt the glow of satisfaction that pervaded the immortal P. 
T. Barnum in the possession of some unusual freak, when he 
formed a partnership with the one-eyed one to exhibit the glass 
eye and the empty socket in which it belonged, at such favorable 
occasions as recesses, to such beholders as were willing to pay “a 
penny a look.” 
This enterprising youngster, though not a witness of the “fit,” 
had heard of it and had begun speculations concerning its possi- 
bilities, with the result that as usual a money-making scheme pre- 
sented itself to him. He could not approach the child on the way 
to and from school, as she was in charge of the oldest and most 
reliable girl in the Home, a monitor of whose sympathy with his 
plan he was not all assured. So he bided his time till he met the 
child in the playground alone. 
He said he knew a good plan to make money and wanted her as 
a partner. She readily consented to assist him. Then followed his 
proposition. 
“I spoke to the children in school,” he told her, “and they’ll 
pay us a nickel a piece if you’ll throw a fit for them to-morrow at 
recess.” 
Well, she “threw a fit” right there and then. She screamed 
and clutched at his face, tearing, scratching, biting, and dragged 
him after her in a frenzy, straight to the office, where she pushed 
the terrified youngster in a corner and belabored him with her fists, 
till the two were separated. Then with a shriek, she succumbed 
to an epileptic seizure, more severe than the first one had been. 
A conference was immediately held with the monitors, and ar- 
rangements were made whereby the possibility of any future 
teasing or innuendoes was to be strictly avoided. 
As it was the vacation period by this time, she was sent to the 
parks and kept busy working in her garden. The outdoor life in- 
vigorated her and she seemed to have forgotten her last experience 
and forgiven the cause of it. The small girls of her age were busily 
employed one hour each day at sewing or embroidering, and when 
it was suggested to her, that if she learned to sew and embroider, 
she would be able to make dresses for her “Dearest Darling,” she 
responded enthusiastically. In time she did very well and learned 
to sew and embroider with skill. 296 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
Her ability for appropriating property not her own, while not 
manifested as openly and cleverly as her faculty for twisting re- 
spectable names into undesirable sobriquets, was as annoying as 
the latter and of even graver consequence. At first she took what 
odd change she could manage to extract from a supervisor’s pocket 
or from some unguarded room. Then, waxing bolder, she rifled the 
children’s lockers and took anything she found that appealed to 
her fancy. Haled to the office for these misdemeanors, she would 
never seek to deny her thefts, always rather to defend the reasons 
which prompted them. 
“Them kids get plenty money every Sunday,” she insisted, 
sullenly maintaining her right to share in the others’ coin, “and I 
only take some, not all away from ’em.” 
“How should you like to have a boy or a girl take anything 
away from you?” 
“I’d kill ’im,” she quickly replied. 
“Then why should n’t the same be done to you?” 
“But I ain’t got no money like them kids — nobody don’t give 
me money,” she pleaded in her defense. 
“Suppose somebody who’s a great friend of yours, will arrange 
to give you money every Sunday, what will you do then?” 
“That’ll be beoo-ti-full!” she ejaculated enthusiastically, “then 
I don’t have to bother with them kids’ money no more.” 
She was put on a weekly allowance of ten cents, and her monitor 
soon reported that the weekly depredations from the girls’ lockers 
had ceased. As time advanced, and she acquired a definite sense 
about one’s right to one’s own property, she forbore any of the 
petty thefts that for some time had been annoying to the people 
about her. Later, she even reached the stage where she admonished 
and chastised her brother and others for similar weaknesses. 
As the summer passed, she slowly submitted to the influences 
brought to bear upon her and reacted very favorably to the kind- 
ness and wholesome, regular life given her. She had had another 
attack when, on being denied a certain privilege she desired, she 
told her woes to her “Dearest Darling,” who simply stared at her 
without speaking any comfort. Enraged, she flew upon the poor 
doll, hauled and mauled it out of shape and form. When finally 
aware of the damage she had done to her most prized possession, 
she atoned for it with a “spell.” Upon her recovery, she expressed 
the most contrite sorrow, and arranged a funeral for the irrevocably 
broken doll, which she herself buried with tenderness and tears in 
a part of the yard that was henceforth sacred to her and the re- 
mains of “Dearest Darling.” This unfortunate demise was made PRECOCIOUS 
297 
the subject of a talk to her on the necessity of controlling a destruc- 
tive temper, and after the interview, she avowed bitterly, “that 
never, never, never, will I get like a murderer again!” 
This resolve may have held good for “Dearest Darlings,” but 
unfortunately it did not apply in the case of “Mrs. Jiggs,” who 
through some ill chance had become a member of the Ladies’ 
Auxiliary, and as such attended the opening reception in the fall 
which inaugurated the beginning of the ladies’ work for the year. 
The child, feeling herself by this time a very important item in the 
family life of the Home, was at every public function extremely 
busy, popping in and out of every conceivable corner to satisfy 
herself that everything was as it should be. While the other 
children were at their duties or play, she preferred to evade the 
supervisor, and seek whatever opportunity she could find to make 
herself not only seen but also heard. On this particular occasion, 
though she had agreed that the playroom was a more fitting place 
for her than the reception hall, she somehow could not resist the 
curiosity that assailed her “terribly,” and found herself eagerly 
watching the throng of ladies. 
All would have been well if the guardian angel of “Mrs. Jiggs” 
had not been napping. But as “Mrs. Jiggs” was unconscious of 
her unprotected state, she noticed the child at the door, and being 
eager, for some reason best known to herself, to bring out the child 
in conversation, she called the attention of several of the ladies to 
the small figure, after a whispered communication and eloquent 
glances, none of which those shrewd young ears or eyes missed. 
Not warned by the narrowed eyes, she beckoned to the child, 
and offered her some sweetmeats, which were refused. Still not 
understanding, the lady said, “My, how she has grown! She must 
be a good girl now, are n’t you?” 
“I am,” was the laconic reply. 
“Do you like to stay here? Are they good to you?” questioned 
the lady further, unwisely blind to the storm signals in that face. 
She had hardly caught her breath, before the child was upon her 
in a fury. “You nasty Mrs. Jiggs!” she yelled, “You big liar! 
You said the kids are starved and beaten black and blue — you 
big liar, is it your business how I like it here? Did you ever give 
me anything to eat when I was hungry? In the ground I got 
you — ”1 
She was herself lifted up from the ground at this juncture bodily 
and forcibly removed to the office, where she faced her captor, and 
1 Her favorite expression for wishing one dead and buried. 298 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
said, smiling triumphantly, “Did n’t I tell you that I’d give it to 
her!” 
It was a relief that her timely capture had avoided a spell, yet 
she was taken to task as severely as possible for breaking her word 
about losing her temper. 
“But I promised first that I’d give it to Mrs. Jiggs,” she in- 
sisted, “an’ don’t you have to keep your word?” 
As “Mrs. Jiggs” had fled, the matter ended with a moral talk 
on the advisability of forgiving and forgetting. 
In school, she was promoted to the Second Grade; there the 
teachers expressed their amazement at the change in the child’s 
disposition and conduct. She was actually becoming interested 
in her studies, and her “fits” were no longer a matter of appre- 
hension to them. 
About this time, the formation of the Junior Red Cross Circle 
as an Auxiliary to the monitors’ Red Cross Circle, which was en- 
gaged in sewing and knitting for the Red Cross Organization, ma- 
terially assisted in conserving the child’s energies for a sane and 
successful development of her individuality. After consideration, 
it was decided to make the experiment of having the child as leader 
of the Junior Red Cross Circle. 
She was called into the office. “You know of course that we 
are at war with Germany?” she was asked. 
She nodded her head. “Wish I was big so’s I could help our 
soldiers,” she said. 
“You can, even though you’re not big,” she was told. 
“ Whoopee!” (This exclamation had superseded “ Oh, my eye! ”) 
“ Tell me what to do and I’ll do it right away and win the war.” 
“Good! Now you’ll show everybody how anxious you are to 
win the war. You ’ll get all the little girls together and start them 
knitting helmets, wristlets, everything the Red Cross lady asks.” 
“I’ll get the kids now,” she cried in delight, and out she flew 
like a flash into the playground, calling the various names, and 
shouting “We got to win the War — We got to show those Ger- 
mans they can’t start with us no more — Come on, quick!” 
The Circle was started in the next half-hour, and from that time 
till the Armistice was signed, she relaxed neither vigilance nor 
efforts to “win the war.” Though the good Red Cross instructor 
ripped as many helmets as the “leader” of the Circle turned out in 
the first week of her toil, not to enumerate the many impossible 
“helmets” and “wristlets” which the monitors’ Circle had to rip 
and reknit, the Junior Red Cross Circle, after the first month of 
its existence, was a source of pride and great satisfaction to the 
institution. PRECOCIOUS 
299 
The child as a leader was supremely happy. She flew about like 
a busy bee, anxious to do more than her workers, and determined 
that the little girls should make as good a showing as the older 
girls. She was as cheerful as she was busy, and frequently led the 
small girls in song as they sat in their small chairs, knitting. Had 
she been permitted, she would have worked nights, so great was 
her enthusiasm. She was fond of flattery and would laugh happily 
if told that she was “helping the soldiers, and winning the war.” 
The girl monitors were instrumental in exercising a big-sisterly 
influence, which was very beneficial to the neglected child. Hear- 
ing no oaths, curses, or obscene language, in time she stopped 
using her former flow of objectionable eloquence. She became 
interested in her brother, and would scold him severely for any 
misdemeanor, often coming into the office to appeal for him, and 
always ending with the, to her, incontrovertible excuse, “You see 
he’s a boy — and of course, all boys are bad.” She would admon- 
ish and lecture him and end with the plea that he should not make 
her ashamed of him. 
Having learned to concentrate her mind upon work, through 
the medium of her Red Cross Circle, it was no longer difficult for 
her to concentrate on her studies at school. She progressed and 
was promoted to the Third Grade. 
Her physical condition improved immensely and she began to 
put on weight rapidly. Her “spells” had become very infrequent. 
In the year that followed, she had but three. 
She took special delight in her garden, and won the First Prize 
for the best garden, offered by a director of the institution. 
The physician who attended her held out the hope that, with 
a continued special diet and a wholesome, happy routine of life, 
she would in all probability outgrow her nervous tension, the 
direct cause of the epileptic spells. 
The Result 
Excerpts from Letter, dated January 20, 1921: 
“The back sliding of Polly S has been a source of consider- 
able worry to us, and we wonder what to do with the girl. She 
had been a normal case for such a long time, that we are in a 
dilemma concerning her. Mr. W wants her taken out of the 
Home. He says the girl has been a source of much contention 
during the past month. She has had an attack each month for 
che past six months, starting almost about the time you went to 
B , and has displayed a terrible temper. The stepfather re- 300 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
fused to permit the girl to come home, threatening to leave if she 
was placed under the same roof with him. Dr. D again 
examined the girl, said her mental condition had considerably im- 
proved and advised that since she could not be happy now at the 
institution, she should be transferred to some other Orphanage or 
to a good private home. He also advised that her bromide treat- 
ments be continued regularly, and instructions as to diet and 
elimination of salt in food be observed.” 
March 16, 1921. 
“Regarding Polly S , the following will interest you: She 
in common with the other children was given a pair of new shoes. 
She objected to hers, complaining they were n’t stylish and that 
they pinched her at the toes. Investigation proved that there was 
no ground to her complaint, and she was informed that she would 
have to wear those shoes or none. At which she rose in a fury, 
stormed at Mr. W , swore she would wear no shoes then, and 
flew out screaming to the front door. 
“Naturally in a moment she had a crowd about her, to whom she 
supplied the information that the wicked people within compelled 
her to wear shoes which hurt her feet, beat her, and so on. Mr. 
W attempted to get her into the house, but she repulsed him 
and ran away — where, do you think? To the offices of the Organ- 
ization, a distance of no less than two miles, as you may remember, 
with the new shoes in her hands and the old ones unlaced and very 
torn, upon her feet. 
“She informed Mrs. G that she was not going to wear 
those new shoes and, if she could not get the kind of shoes she 
wanted, she would go bare-footed. Well, she got her way and her 
shoes. 
“Now, what to do with her! 
“She insists that she will not return to the institution. Asked 
by Dr. D why she liked the institution so much before, and 
hated it so much now, she expressed her mind quite freely, saying, 
‘Then there was a gentleman, now there is a dog.’ 
“The Bureau is making a special effort to place her in a specially 
good home. We hope for the best.” 
She was placed in an excellent home, and the last report of the 
Society reads: 
“In September, 1921, the boarding mother reported that the 
girl was doing very nicely.” PRECOCIOUS 
301 
Letters from the Girl: Nmmier lm 
Dear Friend: 
I received your letter and I was so happy to hear from you, I 
jumped up in the air six times. 
You heard about the beautiful home I have, and the lovely people 
I am with; I like them very much and they are very good to me 
and they give me everything I want, and Mr. L—— gave me a 
gold ring for my birthday and a gold pen eversharp pencil, and I 
hope I will be always with them. 
And I am getting along very nicely in school. I am in the Fifth 
Grade. I try my very best to be higher. I got my report and I 
think it was the best report I ever had in my life. I tell you I am 
getting so fat, that the last time I weighed myself, it was one hun- 
dred and nineteen. I don’t get sick as I did any more. Last 
Saturday I was in the Hospital, and the doctor said I am almost 
well. So I have no more to write, and with regards to , and 
lots of love, Your girl, 
Polly S . 
Dearest Friend: December 20, 1921. 
How are you feeling? I am feeling fine. You know I am with 
Mr. and Mrs. L in their beautiful home. I used to want to 
die and now I want to live one hundred years long, as long as old 
Mrs. G . I received your lovely letter and it was so kind of you 
to think of me and you wrere always so good and patient with me. 
I have had some lovely trips in the auto with Mr. and Mrs. 
L and their family, and they are all so kind to me. Mrs. 
L has made me some beautiful dresses and Mr. L gave 
me a beautiful gold ring for my birthday. 
Give my best regards to , and how do you all like it in 
B ? When I am a big girl, Mrs. L will take me to B , 
so I have no more to write, and remain, 
From your friend, PolLY g . 
Dear Friend: February 4,1922. 
Hope you are all well. 
Well, I received your letter and I was very glad to hear from 
you. I was very disappointed why I did not see you when you 
visited P—*—. I am getting along very good in school. I am very 
happy with whom I stay. They are very lovely to me. I feel 302 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
now like a millionaire’s daughter. You know Mr. C is a very- 
nice friend of mine. I saw Miss L and I asked her how is Mr. 
C , and she told me he is not feeling so well, so I felt very bad to 
hear it. 
I did not see Miss K , who you made my big sister, for a long 
time. When I see her, I’ll tell her to be ashamed of herself. 
Give my best love to all my friends in the Home. 
I did not get spells for a long time already. 
From me with a whole lot of love, 
Polly S . CASE C 
CARRIE F , “THE SCAPEGOAT” 
Taken under observation May 15,1916. Age 15 years 
The Problem 
1. Difficulties 
(a) Melancholic and hysterical. 
(b) Suicidal tendencies. 
(c) Constantly “ill,” and “dying from a bad heart.” 
(d) Tragically unhappy; imaginary fears and terrors. 
(e) Quarrelsome; obstinate; sullen; wild fits of fury. 
(/) Violent spells of crying. 
2. The School 
(a) Reached the Second Grade, and then attendance ceased. 
(b) Mother claimed that “heart trouble” would not permit the 
child any schooling. School-attendance officers always 
found her “sick and nervous,” in no condition for regular 
school attendance. 
(c) At the age of eleven, she was admitted to the Hospital 
School for Children; but after three weeks’ attendance, 
the mother obtained her discharge, on the plea that studies 
increased the girl’s ailments. 
(d) Was barely able to read, wrote very poorly, with extreme 
difficulty, and hardly understood the first rudiments of 
spelling. 
3. Home 
(а) Very unhappy. Either unable or unwilling to adjust her- 
self to conditions. 
(б) Constant friction with mother and older sisters. 
(c) Had frequent hysterical attacks which alarmed the neigh- 
bors, causing them to report the case for relief to one char- 
itable organization after another. 
4. Society 
(a) Marked antagonistic attitude to the world in general, and 
to the Social Workers who endeavored to assist the family 
in particular. 
(b) Bitter, sarcastic, headstrong, and nourishing the belief 
that anyone evincing a desire to assist her, really intended 
303 304 
to exploit her for some personal benefit to be derived 
therefrom. 
(c) Cynical and indifferent to her elders. Repellent and dis- 
agreeable to the boys and girls of her own age. 
(d) Had no friends, and wanted none. 
(e) Violently resented any interference with her method of life. 
(/) Usually met any attempt to reach her, with the final re- 
mark, “What’s the use of bothering with me anyway? 
I’m going to make an end of it pretty soon.” 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
1. Physical 
(а) Medium height; slight, undeveloped figure. 
(б) Pale, drawn face with tragically serious expression. Fine, 
dark-gray eyes, staring, dull, and with the weary look of 
age. Well-shaped mouth constantly twitching. 
(c) Fine hair, good complexion and teeth. 
(d) Fifteen pounds underweight. Decidedly under-nourished. 
General air of lifelessness and dejection, aggravated by 
the impression given of fatigue, over-work, and illness. 
(e) Had been treated in different hospitals at various periods 
for a “bad heart,” since earliest childhood. 
(/) Claimed that she suffered with severe headaches that 
would blind her for several hours at a time. 
2. Mental 
(a) Examinations: 
In 1911, the Benevolent Society recognized her as a 
cardiac case and had treatment given by its physician for 
heart trouble and nervousness. 
The report after two months of treatment was that the 
heart was functioning normally, and that the case, though 
subject to hysterical attacks, could attend school. 
Several months later, it was reported that “the child had 
frequent mild, convulsive seizures and hysterical hyperes- 
thesias.” The recommendation was made that she be 
sent to the Psychiatric Clinic for observation. 
Psychiatrist’s Report: 
“Girl has no physical trouble, but is extremely nervous. 
She is over-matured and has a tendency to reflect on her 
nervous system. Her condition bends toward melan- 
cholia. She is very impressionable, imaginative to the 
highest degree, and exhibits marked pessimism and suicidal 
tendencies. 
The Analysis PRECOCIOUS 
305 
“ Recommend that girl be taken from her home and put 
in a more wholesome environment. She needs normal 
treatment and care.” 
A year later, the Clinic issued the following report: 
“Nothing wrong with the girl, and no reason for her to 
remain at the hospital any longer. 
“She is undoubtedly being humored by her mother, 
who believes her seriously ill. 
“Only spells she is subject to are crying spells. 
“It is advisable that she be boarded away from home.” 
(6) Personality Traits: 
Clean, neat, and careful about person and clothes. 
Has no girlish desire for ribbons or trinkets. 
Scoffs at girls who follow the fashions, quarrels with 
those who use cosmetics, and reproaches those who “like 
boys.” Is herself apparently unconscious of sex. 
Thinks all the girls “frivolous” and all the boys “loaf- 
ers.” Disgusted with both sexes. 
Wildly desires an education, expresses ambitions of as- 
tounding heights, and longs to belong to “real, good 
society.” 
When aroused to confidence and trust, is capable of 
truly remarkable loyalty and devotion. 
Has a certain sense of justice and honor, which she will 
fight to uphold. 
Extremely critical, and does not hesitate to express an 
opinion. 
Intolerant of control, but will obey blindly, and sacrifice 
personal inclinations or desires to please one she likes. 
Rather aggressive. Anxious to be recognized as “very 
smart.” 
3. Social 
(a) Heredity: 
Father: a poor, weak, inefficient creature, a coat- 
presser by trade, was unable to make a livelihood for his 
family at his work, and took up peddling. From a push- 
cart peddler, selling fruits and vegetables, he deteriorated 
to a sort of semi-beggar, selling shoe-strings and safety- 
pins from a basket suspended about his neck. 
He tramped wearily from door to door with his few 
wares, frequently receiving alms from presumptive cus- 
tomers, till he developed a serious heart affection, which 
his shrewd and “clever” wife immediately capitalized. 306 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
He became subject to heart-seizures, at which times he 
would become unconscious and was with difficulty resusci- 
tated. The Benevolent Society, on learning of his condi- 
tion, put the family on an allowance, requesting him to 
cease further efforts at any kind of work till he improved. 
But his wife would have it otherwise. She accepted the 
weekly allowance, and with fiendish ingenuity, learning 
that any undue exhaustion or exertion was productive of 
a convulsive seizure, she mercilessly commercialized her 
husband’s misfortune. 
She would drag her victim for many miles across town, 
to the homes of the wealthy, compelling him to walk the 
entire way, the poorer the weather the better for her 
schemes; and when he showed signs of a heart-seizure, 
would force him to lie in the vestibule of some home that 
she selected, while she rang the bell, and crossed the street, 
awaiting further developments. 
The person who opened the door in response to the ring, 
and saw a peddler lying unconscious, with the wares from 
his basket strewn about him, would very naturally seek 
assistance. When the woman across the street was satis- 
fied that the master or mistress of the house had been 
notified and was seeking to administer aid to the helpless 
man, she would suddenly appear, wild-eyed, her hair dis- 
heveled as if she had been running, panting and moaning, 
“Did you see my poor husband, a peddler — ” 
By this time, her eyes would apparently alight upon the 
unconscious unfortunate for whom a doctor had been 
hastily summoned, and she would cry, in an evident 
frenzy of sorrow and agony that never failed to affect the 
listeners, “I told him not to go out, I begged him to let 
me do the peddling and support our ten children; but he 
would n’t listen to me and ran out when I was busy with 
the twin babies. And the doctor said he would die if he 
worked, and now he is dead — my husband — my poor 
husband! And now I am a widow, and my poor children 
are orphans! — Oh God! What will I do now?” 
Of course she aroused pity and sincere sympathy; and 
when the doctor revived her victim, and corroborated her 
statement that he had a very bad heart and must be care- 
ful, the sympathetic members of the household gave her 
sums of money, quantities of food, and clothes of all sorts, 
to assist her in her distress. Nearly always, she and her PRECOCIOUS 
307 
husband were sent home in the motor-car of the home, or, 
failing that, in a hired taxi, which the duped individual 
gladly paid for. 
So lucrative was this scheme for money-making that 
the woman continuously plied it, and used such caution 
and shrewdness in selecting the neighborhoods and the 
people to be deceived, that not until her daughter divulged 
her original method of money-getting, several years later, 
was the mystery of her substantial bank-account solved. 
Finally, on his recovery from a heart-attack in a wealthy 
home, the doctor attending him advised that he be taken 
to the hospital, as his condition was most serious. Re- 
moved to the hospital, he lingered several days and died. 
His widow collected $500 insurance from a lodge which 
she had insisted he should join, several years previously, 
and from which she had managed to receive sick benefits 
weekly, without the knowledge of the Benevolent Society. 
His nearest relatives were several cousins, self-support- 
ing and normal. 
Mother: a woman of rather attractive appearance, often 
bragged that she had had the advantages of good birth, 
breeding, and a fair education. 
She boasted frequently of her fine connections, but 
would give no clue to their whereabouts or to their station 
in life. After several years of hard knocks, she married her 
husband, who was in many ways her inferior. She had 
dominated him always, and expressed her contempt for 
him, freely, before her young children. 
He had never defied her will; she had been practically 
the master of the house during his lifetime. He had 
pleaded and begged not to be forced to play his part in her 
scheme for money-making, but she had overruled his ob- 
jections and disregarded his petition to be taken to the 
hospital and permitted to die in peace. 
She was subject to violent outbursts of temper, greatly 
feared by her husband and the children. When angered, 
she used vile invectives, oaths, and curses. 
Her attitude toward her neighbors was hostile and sus- 
picious, and they in turn regarded her with scorn and dis- 
like. She had no known friend. 
She was very miserly in her habits, and allowed her 
family only the barest necessities of life. She would fawn 
upon the social workers and investigators who visited her, 308 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
constantly deploring and lamenting her widowhood, her 
poverty, and the unfortunate condition of her seven chil- 
dren. She never failed to enlist sympathy, as some of the 
records in the charitable organizations attest: 
“The husband was a peddler who had heart trouble. 
He died at the hospital in 1912. During the man’s illness 
and after his death, the woman, who seems intelligent, 
honorable, and very unhappy, worked at peddling, while 
the oldest girl, twelve years old, took care of the home, 
which was always clean and neat.” 
“ In December, 1912, Dr. B , of the hospital, reported 
that ‘she had T.B., an old lesion.’ She frequently com- 
plained of not feeling well, as did several of the children. 
One girl specially is very nervous and is suffering with 
heart trouble. The mother is greatly worried, fearing that 
she inherited the disease from the father, and like him, 
will die of it. 
“At one time, the entire family slept in one room, some 
of the children sleeping on chairs.” 
It was undoubtedly extremely difficult for the Organi- 
zation to work with the woman, as she was always schem- 
ing and trying to deceive as to her exact financial condition. 
Shortly after her husband’s death, she sent her two 
older daughters to work and discovered that the third 
child was rather delicate in appearance and constitution. 
She at once assumed another case of heart-disease, stopped 
the child from attending school, and dragged her from 
dispensary to hospital and from one organization to an- 
other, pleading that attention be given the girl, who was 
dying from a “bad heart.” 
At one time, in July, 1915, the girl was discharged from 
the Cardiac Clinic, because the physician in charge reported 
that there was nothing wrong with her and there was no 
need for her to remain at the hospital. The mother be- 
came excited when she heard this, and raised an outcry 
that the poor were always being ill-treated. “Just be- 
cause the girl is a free patient, that’s why they turn her 
out and say there is nothing the matter with her, when she 
is dying.” 
The younger children she had admitted to the Orphanage 
as soon as she could manage to do so. 
To enforce her arguments, or achieve her desires, she 
had ready tears at her command and outbursts of eloquent PRECOCIOUS 
309 
appeals for mercy or pity, guaranteed to move the stoniest 
heart. 
She clandestinely purchased the house she lived in, and 
only when her tenants (her long-suffering neighbors) 
sought relief in court, from a too negligent and rapacious 
landlord, did they, as well as others, discover, to their 
dismay and chagrin, who their unknown landlord really 
was. She had contrived, most cleverly, to have a distant 
relative of hers pose as the landlord, for a small considera- 
tion; and it was owing to the fact that he had made a 
stupid and awkward blunder, that he unwittingly dis- 
closed the secret she had carefully guarded. 
Quite religious, she insisted that her children punctili- 
ously heed every religious observance. 
She avowed a deep affection for her children, and after 
the discovery that she was a property owner, protested 
that it was her duty to provide for her children, and in 
what better way could she do so “than by sacrificing and 
saving, and putting the money into a house, which should 
bring returns to them in the future, and give them a start 
in life?” 
She did show a marked fondness for the two older girls, 
who were remarkably pretty. 
Siblings: Oldest sister, very attractive physically, men- 
tally normal; married, quite young, a decent, hard-working 
man, and is apparently living happily. 
Has had frequent pleuritic attacks, indicating a tubercu- 
lar tendency. 
She has three children, all apparently normal. 
Older sister, very dull mentally, but physically beautiful. 
Her reputation is none of the best, and her mother has 
sought advice on how to cure her of “young-man crazi- 
ness.” 
Younger sister, an inmate of the Orphanage. Sullen, 
difficult child, low mentality, exceedingly selfish and ob- 
stinate. Very pretty. 
Younger brother, a bright, active little fellow, good 
mentality. 
He had been a petty pilferer, liar, and exceedingly 
troublesome. Barely escaped a Juvenile Court Record. 
A different environment had a most excellent effect upon 
him. Fine, promising youngster. 
Youngest sister, attractive little girl; fair mentality. 
Too young for definite diagnosis. Is in the Orphanage. 310 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
Youngest brother, apparently normal. Unusually bright 
for his age. 
(b) Developmental: 
The girl had been a normal, healthy baby at birth, but, 
according to the mother, “had every sickness that could 
be imagined.” The girl herself remembers only her 
“heart trouble.” 
She, in common with the other children, had been left 
to her own resources in the streets, and had lived as best 
she might, neglected, dirty, and roaming the neighborhood 
at will; often a sympathetic neighbor would pity the 
hungry child, and give her a bite to eat. 
Her “bed” was part of a mattress put on the floor in 
the one room occupied by the family as a bed-chamber. 
The two years she had been permitted to spend at school 
had an indifferent effect upon her; she remembered sitting 
in the schoolroom, listening to the teacher’s voice, without 
comprehension or the ability to concentrate her mind on 
the lesson. 
In her own words, she aptly described the impression 
made by her few school-days and their resultant influence. 
“I always went to school without breakfast,” she said, 
“but that was nothing, because I wasn’t hungry at all, 
and lots of the children came to school that way. But I 
was always so tired and sleepy; and though I did try so 
hard, I just could n’t make myself understand what the 
teacher was talking about. My head always felt dizzy 
and I felt like fainting all the time. I used to be awfully 
ashamed of my torn shoes and ragged dress, and I used to 
beg God to let me die. Then, when the teacher called me 
to the board and asked me something, and I told her I 
did n’t know what she had been talking about, she would 
scold me and send me to the principal, and then all those 
hateful kids would meet me in the street and make fun of 
me. I hated them so that sometimes I wish I had killed 
them. Every time they saw me, they yelled out, ‘Here 
comes K— A— T! — That’s the way, she spells cat.’ 
“Honest, I tried awfully hard, and it seems that I 
simply could n’t help thinking of other things when the 
teacher was talking. I used to imagine that I was a rich 
little girl with a fine home and lots of good things, and 
Santa Claus was coming to bring me a big doll I saw in a 
window; or I would think of other nice things like that, PRECOCIOUS 
311 
and then suddenly the teacher called on me, and I had my 
troubles. 
“I sure was glad when mother told me that I had 
heart trouble and was so sick that I could n’t go to school.” 
At this time, when the child first began to believe that 
she was developing symptoms of heart trouble, and to 
realize that here she had an ache and there a pain, the 
mother resumed her activities among the wealthy homes 
she had formerly victimized. 
She would take the girl to one of the homes, ask to see 
the mistress, whose acquaintance she had formerly made 
while plying her schemes with her husband, and pour forth 
into the sympathetic woman’s ear, a tale of the sad 
fate hovering over the girl. The latter’s sickly pallor 
and attenuated form corroborating the mother’s agonized 
whisper that an early grave awaited the poor, unfortunate 
little creature, the charitable lady would give freely and 
plentifully of money and gifts for the relief of mother and 
child. 
The girl soon was suffering from many ailments, and 
hated the social agencies and their workers who took her 
to hospitals and clinics and dispensaries, which brought 
her no relief. “Doctors don’t know much, anyhow,” said 
the mother, “and for poor people with no money to give 
them, they don’t know anything at all.” The girl imbibed 
this opinion readily, and included the physicians who told 
her “there is nothing at all the matter with you,” in her 
intense hatred for people and things. 
No hope, no pleasures, no ambition — merely hoping 
and waiting for the death her mother assured her was 
hovering over her hapless head! 
(c) Habits and Interests: 
Very imaginative. Only form of recreation was to 
find a quiet corner and imagine things. 
Instinctively neat and orderly. 
Snobbish. Hypercritical. Irritable. Talks rapidly. 
(d) Home Conditions: 
Even after the discovery was made that the mother 
owned the house the family lived in, there was no change 
made in the manner and ways of living. When the three 
younger children were admitted to the Orphanage, the 
Benevolent Society reduced the allowance given the 
family. The mother claimed that this entailed greater 312 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
economy than ever, and the food in the house became 
poorer and scantier, while household necessities were 
either completely ignored or grudgingly permitted. 
The home, always poorly furnished, had not enough 
beds or bed-linen for the growing girls, and no attempt was 
made to secure privacy for any one of them. 
The older girl before her marriage, and her sister, were 
both employed in a factory at small wages, and spent their 
earnings exclusively for their personal adormnent. The 
two received their young men callers in the one general 
living-room. 
The tastes of the sisters were as dissimilar as possible, 
with the result that discord, quarreling, and unhappiness 
formed the home atmosphere. 
The youngest child, too young to be admitted to the 
Orphanage, was underfed and neglected, and retaliated 
by being cross and irritable; his constant crying excited his 
sister’s highly strung nerves almost to the point of insanity. 
The mother contributed her share to the din by alter- 
nate outbursts of fury at the baby who dared to defy her, 
and then at the “sick” daughter who, thinking the child 
wronged, became his champion in the never-ceasing war- 
fare between mother and son. 
(e) Mental Interests: 
None, save speculations concerning different means of 
suicide. 
The Treatment 
Sunday afternoons were the most favored and popular “visiting 
days” for the children’s relatives and friends, and hence the busiest 
time in the institution, and the most trying for the office, which was 
compelled to handle demands, complaints, requests, and peti- 
tions with diplomatic wisdom. 
On several successive Sunday afternoons, a small, timid figure, 
with a pale, wistful face, propelled on each side by a smaller and 
younger girl, — these two being sisters, and inmates of the Orphan- 
age, — appeared for a second in the crowded office, glanced about, 
and disappeared as silently and rapidly as she had come. As this 
continued for several Sundays, the small, white face leaving be- 
hind its silent yet eloquent appeal, the two younger girls were sent 
for and questioned. 
“That’s my sick sister; she’s goin’ to die and she wants to speak 
with you,” volunteered the older of the propellers. PRECOCIOUS 
313 
She was sent to the “dying” sister, with a message that Monday- 
morning was a better time, if convenient for her, than Sunday 
afternoon. 
Punctually at a given hour on Monday morning, there was a 
timid knock on the office door, and in response to the “Come in!” 
the knob turned slowly and a small figure stood hesitatingly. “You 
made an appointment with me — will I bother you if I come in?” 
she questioned timorously, evidently ill at ease and extremely 
nervous. 
“Why, come in, child; sit right down and let’s be friends!” 
She sat silently in the chair which had been placed for her, look- 
ing up with great, amazed eyes, but saying nothing. Suddenly, 
without warning, she burst into a violent fit of sobbing. “No 
wonder something told me to come to you with my troubles,” she 
finally said, after regaining some self-control. Gradually she be- 
came composed. “Can anybody be blamed for being born too 
soon?” The question was sudden, unexpected, and distinctly 
original; so much so, that it put the strange child apart as an 
unusual character. 
On being assured that no sane person would legitimately dis- 
approve of one on the score of age solely, no matter what that 
might be, she seemed to gather courage and asked the disconcerting 
question: “Then I can be admitted to the Home, even if I am 
fifteen years old?” 
The gist of her thoughts was then clearly apparent. She had 
evidently been informed that she was beyond the age-limit for 
admission to the institution. 
“There!” she cried out vehemently; “there, you see for your- 
self that, because I was born a year or two before I had any right, 
I cannot have a chance like my sisters and brother and all the 
other children, but must suffer, and suffer, and suffer — till I make 
up my mind to kill myself. I did make up my mind a long time 
ago, but you have no idea how hard it is to do it. It’s awful; you 
just want to be finished with it all and yet, — well, I don’t know 
how to explain it, — but somehow, when you want to do it, some- 
thing don’t let you.” 
“Why should you want to kill yourself?” she was asked. 
“Why?” she laughed hysterically. “What’s the use of living 
if you can’t be anything decent? In a few months, I’ll be sixteen 
years old, and what do I know? Nothing! My little brother can 
read and write better than me.” She burst into moans and sobs, 
her body trembling and shaking. “They want me to go to work 
in the paper-box factory,” she cried passionately, “but I won’t; 314 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
I just won’t! I told those social workers to leave me alone and 
I’ll die soon. But,” — she wiped the tears from her eyes and 
looked up appealingly, — ‘‘but I’m awfully afraid that I — some- 
how I won’t die, so I want to be put in the Home and learn some- 
thing.” 
Investigation showed that she had hardly as much education as 
an average eight-year-old child. “ I don’t want to work in a shop,” 
she reiterated, “and I don’t know what to do. I am making up 
my mind that I am not going to go with my mother any more to 
those rich people and tell them how sick I am. I’m not! I’m not! 
I’m not!” she repeated again and again, as if assuring herself of 
this resolution. 
“Why not?” 
“Why not?” she repeated the query in amazement. “Why, 
because I’m ashamed to be dragged around and treated like a 
beggar. I don’t want their things; I don’t want them to pity me 
— Oh, why does n’t God take pity on me and let me die and finish 
the whole thing?” 
“What a shame for a nice girl like you not to brace up, get some 
education, and show everybody what a bright, capable brain you 
have, and just make them respect you!” 
The fine gray eyes opened wide in wonder. “Does — does that 
mean we?” Her trembling forefinger unconsciously pointed 
straight to her heart, as if to emphasize her amazement. 
“Of course,” was the definite assurance given her. “When a 
girl has an ambition to be educated and become somebody, all she 
has to do is to forget about everything else and work hard to get 
what she wants; and before she knows it, she is somebody!” 
“Oh, it sounds so good!” She clasped her hands eagerly, her 
eyes brightening; then, as a thought came to her mind, she asked 
sadly, “But I have heart trouble, and what’s the use of doing any- 
thing?” 
A long, earnest talk followed, during which she enumerated all 
her ailments, symptoms of heart trouble, difficulties at home with 
her family, and her unhappiness. Gaining confidence as she listened 
to the plan outlined for her assistance, she poured forth ardent 
promises to abide by and carefully observe all rules and regula- 
tions that might be laid down for her future guidance. She agreed 
to consider herself directly under the jurisdiction of the institution, 
and willingly to perform all duties assigned to her. To give due 
solemnity and importance to the occasion, which it was deemed 
advisable should leave a powerful impression upon her mind, it 
was suggested to her to take three days before rendering her final PRECOCIOUS 
315 
decision as to the tentative agreement that she accept proposed 
plans for her future guidance, trustingly and obediently. 
She left reluctantly, and returned later in the day to say, that 
she could not patiently wait for three whole days; she had de- 
cided, and was determined to take whatever instructions were given 
her; she added, with childlike logic, that, whereas she hated the 
social workers because they had wanted her to do things she did 
not like, and did not believe her to be as ill as she said, she was now 
disposed to do anything in her power to show her readiness to obey 
orders. 
In the interview with her mother, which now followed, it was 
with no little difficulty that that lady was practically forced to give 
her consent to the contemplated experiment with her daughter. 
Her insistence that the girl’s heart was too weak for study or work 
was utterly disregarded; and it was not till she was given definitely 
to understand that her plans to pauperize the girl, and further her 
own schemes for money-making, were fully comprehended, that 
the means wherewith to fight her successfully presented themselves. 
When she left the office, she was bound by a solemn promise not to 
molest the girl further with her schemes, and not to interfere in the 
regime arranged for the future. As the girl’s age precluded her ad- 
mission to the institution, it was thought best to await develop- 
ments before sending her to a boarding home. 
The first demand was that she submit to a physical and mental 
examination. She consented to the first, but objected to the sec- 
ond till reminded of her promise to obey orders. She then agreed 
to do as required of her. The physician found no traces of any 
disease. She was organically sound and needed only good food 
and pure air, with plenty of rest, to tone up her system. 
The psychiatrist reported as follows: 
“I have seen the girl several times, first at the Hospital Dis- 
pensary, and then, with more detailed examinations, at this office. 
“From a careful consideration of her case, I should say that the 
girl seems to have very real symptoms, which must make her work 
at school very difficult for her, if not, at times, actually impossible. 
Whatever the mechanism, I feel that a large part of this is caused 
by her difficult home situation, which must grate most painfully 
on a young girl of sensitive disposition, a girl who has not yet at- 
tained the self-confidence which comes from having made good, 
and yet who is ambitious and anxious to pull herself out of the 
rather inferior circumstances, both material and intellectual, in 
which her family is placed. I think that the girl deserves every 
encouragement to improve her situation, and would consider that 316 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
she should certainly be tried out living away from home for several 
months, particularly at the present time, when it is still possible 
to improve her nervous condition. 
“Meanwhile, her symptoms are rendering her almost unable to 
earn any money, and at the same time lessening her chances of 
improvement. Later on, it is very probable that such a simple 
thing as removing her from the home will no longer effect any 
desirable change in her nervous condition, and the girl might be- 
come in time permanently incapacitated. Any other policy with 
her at this time, I certainly should consider as being ‘penny wise 
and pound foolish.’” 
Her future vocation was in question. Asked what she would 
like to be, she hesitated, and stammered that she should like to be 
a stenographer; then drew back as if aghast at her temerity, and 
murmured very diffidently, “That is,'—that is what I would want 
to be if I could read and write.” 
She was started at a business college where special arrangements 
were made to give her a thorough course in English reading and 
writing, simple arithmetic, and typing. She applied herself with 
remarkable earnestness and zeal to her studies, appearing quite 
anxious to make a good showing. She was permitted to enter the 
dressmaking, embroidery, and crocheting classes at the institu- 
tion, and soon was an adept with the needle. Within a year, she 
was crocheting ties most skillfully, and sewing the most dainty 
garments, and beautifully embroidering articles, giving them as 
tokens of appreciation to those for whom she felt esteem and 
devotion. 
She worked very hard in the Business School, and progressed be- 
yond the fondest expectations entertained by her teachers. Efforts 
were made to improve her home life, which, though only partly 
successful, still resulted in her receiving better food, improved 
sleeping accommodations, and less nagging and scolding from her 
mother. Her weight increased by several pounds, a faint pink be- 
gan to appear in her pale cheeks, and one evening, before leaving 
for her home for the night, she stepped into the office for her usual 
“Good-bye,” — a brand-new smile transfiguring the small face 
with the piquant charm of youth, — nodded shyly, and whispered, 
“Do you know what he said just now to me? Do you think it 
really, honestly, is true?” 
The “he” referred to an officer of the institution, who had met 
her in the corridor — one whom she liked and respected, and who 
in turn was greatly interested in the “experiment.” 
“Why, what did he say?” PRECOCIOUS 
317 
She dimpled, blushed and laughed. “He — he said that I was 
looking so well that — that — I am — I don’t believe him any- 
way, — but he said — said that I am getting to be a real pretty 
girl.” Then wistfully, her eyes large with hope, “Is it true? . Am 
I really going to be pretty? ” 
The opportunity was eagerly taken to draw a sort of glorified 
picture of herself, if she continued industrious, ambitious, and, 
above all, forgot to be sick. She had met the Social Worker whom 
she specially detested in the street one day; and on being asked 
how she liked her school-work and whether her health had im- 
proved, she tartly remarked, “Don’t you see that the school and 
the Home keep me so busy that I have n’t the time to be sick any 
more?” 
There was an unwonted light in her eyes and she seemed quite 
pleased with herself. “Do you know,” she confided, “I don’t 
know why it is, but I really feel like singing.” 
“Then why not sing?” 
The smile faded from her face and the light left her eyes. “I 
wish I could!” she said; and then, with a touch of her former 
bitterness, “When all the other girls were singing, I was crying. 
That’s all I learned to do — cry — cry,” — and unexpectedly she 
burst into sobs. 
When the paroxysm had somewhat abated, she said, as if in 
excuse for her weakness, “Oh, you don’t know what it was! 
Always tears — tears — tears! I wonder whether that’s why, 
when I made up my mind to jump in the river that day sure, I 
could n’t, because it seemed to me lots and lots of tears I would be 
jumping into, and not water to get drowned in.” 
She frequently had spells of morbid self-pity, when she would 
rage against an unjust fate, which gave to other girls so many ad- 
vantages, and so many troubles to her. Permitted “to cry it out,” 
she would slowly collect her unhappy thoughts and find relief 
after her tempest of grief in the reference to her future always very 
significantly made. 
“Your life is now in your own hands, to be made as you wish 
it,” she would be told. 
That hint never failed to have the desired effect. She would rub 
the tears quickly from her eyes, throw back her head proudly, 
erect her shoulders, and assert with emphasis, “I am going to be 
somebody; I am, I am, I am\” and the squall for the time being 
was forgotten. 
She was encouraged to join several of the girls’ clubs at the 
Home, and evincing an interest in a play shortly to be presented by 318 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
the older children, she was given a minor part, which she per- 
formed so satisfactorily, that visions of possible histrionic glories 
hovered over her. “For nearly every night of the week, I dream 
that I am a great actress/’ she artlessly confessed. Better by far 
that such dreams supersede those of suicide and morbid subjects; 
so she was encouraged to continue with her work during the day 
and dream in peace at night. 
Taken to a symphony concert one day, she came back in an 
ecstasy of delight. “It was so wonderful, I thought I was in 
Heaven,” she avowed fervently; and then timidly suggested that 
she would employ a piano teacher to give her lessons as soon as she 
was earning money of her own. 
A few months later, she secured a position as general office- 
worker, and came into the office with her first week’s salary in its 
envelope clutched in her hand, a triumphant smile on her face. 
“ Look, it’s all my own; I earned it all by myself!” She regarded 
the new crisp ten-dollar bill that she drew from the envelope with 
a look of wonder and pride, and then folded it fondfy to her heart. 
“To think that I should be able to work in an office!” she ejacu- 
lated; and then added, “I told a lie to get the position, and — I 
can’t be altogether happy till you know about it and say it’s all 
right.” 
“What was the lie?” 
“They wanted a high-school graduate and I felt that I had more 
sense than those high-school girls, anyway, and you said that I was 
not to think of the past and all the troubles I had, so — I just 
made up my mind that I was not going to let another girl get 
ahead of me because she had been in high school — and, I told 
them I was a high-school graduate, and — well, I now feel even 
about things.” 
Asked whether she did not think that the lie would be apparent 
to her employers when she was not able to perform certain duties 
that might be required of her, she hesitated, and then added very 
soberly, “But I am going to work so hard and make them like me 
so much, that they’ll forgive me if they find out that I fibbed to 
them.” Then she burst into a torrent of pleas for pardon, making 
extravagant promises never again to lie in her life. 
To the surprise of all, she actually filled her position satisfac- 
torily. She displayed great interest in her work, was exceedingly 
conscientious and devoted, worked overtime without complaint 
or objection, and actually, by her unusual earnestness and extreme 
punctuality and faithfulness, attracted the favorable interest of 
the department manager, who once rather humorously remarked, PRECOCIOUS 
319 
“Well, the burden of the business rests upon her shoulders, so 
why should n’t she see that the house does a rattling good busi- 
ness?” 
Socially, however, she was not quite so successful. She accused 
her companion workers of being “shirkers,” fond only of cosmetics 
and “boys without sense,” and having ambition only for chewing- 
gum and candy. Her attitude at home also became more critical 
as her independence increased, and she insisted that her mother 
cease accepting allowances from the Benevolent Society, claiming 
that the earnings of her sister and herself were sufficient to sup- 
port the small family. 
“Why,” she insisted, in emphasizing her contention, “men sup- 
port families on twenty-five dollars a week, and that money is 
enough to support us without taking from charity. Laura [her 
eldest sister who had married] should be ashamed to wear a fur 
coat and have her mother a beggar.” 
These ideas naturally infuriated the mother, who had been com- 
pelled to sit idly by and see the complete collapse of the scheme 
that was to have been an excellent source for money-getting. 
Cleverly and insidiously, she attempted her previous stunt of 
influencing the girl to revert to her former invalidism. She came 
to the office, pleading that the girl could not sleep nights and was 
gradually going insane under the strain of her work; that the poor 
child was very sick with her bad heart. The “sick girl,” however, 
rose in her might, declared that she was not sick and was going 
to make her own livelihood, would stand no further indignities, 
and would not be made into a pauper. The friction became so 
strong between mother and daughter, it was deemed advisable to 
remove the latter to a good, comfortable home, with intelligent 
people, that had been secured for her. 
She paid her own board and was quite happy and cheerful, man- 
ifesting a keen, frank delight in her independence, of which she 
boasted in the most extravagant and exaggerated terms. Most 
of her leisure time was spent at the Home, in which she now dis- 
played a proprietary interest, presenting precepts tended to moral- 
ize the actions of the older children, lecturing the younger ones for 
any breach of discipline that came to her notice, and always alert 
and watchful of the grown-up portion of the population, both in 
and out of the institution, ready to fight any aspersion, real or 
fancied, that might come to her ears, against the institution. 
At one time, she made a public, though utterly unconscious, 
display of her loyalty and devotion to the institution she loved, 
which was as unique as it was interesting. During a half-holiday, 320 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
the children were given a special treat to a downtown moving- 
picture house, to see “Daddy-Longlegs.” As she happened to be 
in the Home at the time, she also was given the benefit of the en- 
tertainment. All went well, till upon the screen was thrown a 
picture of sad-eyed, unhappy little children, terrorized by a stern 
and severe matron in an Orphanage. Up she rose in impetuous 
anger and thoughtlessness, and in that vast assembly boldly gave 
voice to her dissatisfaction and defiance. “You’ve no right to tell 
lies to the people and make them believe that orphans are not 
treated right,” she insisted loudly, to the consternation of one of 
the floor managers who had attempted to quiet her. 
Of course, she attracted the attention of the audience, who 
greatly enjoyed a performance they had not expected. Believing 
her an inmate of the institution which the management was 
specially favoring with this treat, and rather admiring her “spunk” 
as he termed it, the manager of the theatre assured her that he was 
in no way responsible for the filming of the scene she objected to, 
and that it in no way reflected any discredit upon her institution. 
This assurance satisfied her and she permitted the performance to 
proceed without further objection, though, later, she gave the 
amused manager “a piece of her mind,” in which she candidly in- 
formed him, that the “movies” were not telling the truth when 
they showed such pictures. “I heard everybody saying ‘The poor 
little dears,’ when that picture came on,” she said, when reproved 
for the disturbance; “and they can’t get together a lot of kids, 
goodness knows from what kind of homes, and say they are poor 
orphaned children in an institution — no, not when I’m around.” 
The incident caused rather favorable local comment, and gave 
her great confidence in her powers of expression and much satis- 
faction with her ability to acquire courage when necessary. “I 
was so angry with them,” she explained, “that I did n’t stop to 
think about being afraid or ashamed to speak right out. I sup- 
pose,” she philosophized, “that one has to be very angry to be 
brave.” 
She took a weekly allowance from her salary to her mother, who 
still demanded and received a remittance from the Charities for 
the support of the youngest child and herself, to the girl’s chagrin 
and unhappiness. The brother and sisters in the institution were 
constantly receiving gifts from her, while her busy fingers were 
always employed at some bit of exquisite handiwork, to be pre- 
sented as a birthday, holiday, or anniversary token of her regard, 
to some beloved friend. 
Efforts were now made to awaken the youth in her. She was PRECOCIOUS 
321 
admitted to the Alumni Association, and mingled in the world of 
grown-up boys and girls advantageously. Whenever feasible, she 
was sent, properly chaperoned, to balls, parties, and merry oc- 
casions where young people gathered for a good time. Finally she 
lost her critical, supercilious attitude toward young people who 
were neither grave nor serious, and actually made friends with 
several young girls. 
Her love of music was encouraged; and after some months of 
instruction, she played very well and gave pleasure to her young 
friends and herself with the musical selections she rendered at dif- 
ferent gatherings. As she learned to dance, she began to show an 
interest in the “ribbons and furbelows” she had previously de- 
spised, and would frequently hop into the office, blushing and smil- 
ing, in a dainty and attractive frock, which she asserted she had 
picked up at a “wonderful bargain,” and had trimmed with the 
rosettes and ribbons that made it so pretty. 
One evening she flew in, greatly excited. She had met a social 
worker whom she rather liked, who had informed her that a posi- 
tion in Social Service was vacant at the hospital where she had 
been a patient; and as she felt that she could do the work, and 
should like to do the work, and above all, there was the opportu- 
nity to get even with all the social workers, and show them, etc., 
etc., — should n’t she — ought n’t she, to apply for the position? 
She had evidently set her heart upon it, and was so restless, 
that, to quiet her mind, it was suggested to her to seek an inter- 
view regarding the vacancy and then make her own decision. She 
did, and came back with the triumphant announcement that she 
had been accepted and was going to work at Social Service in the 
hospital. She resigned her office position, to the regret of the 
department manager, — who was sincerely interested in her, so 
much so, that at parting he asked her to come to him at any time 
when she needed his assistance (a promise she later remembered to 
take advantage of), — and entered the employ of the hospital. 
First, she took the precaution to abridge her name, “so that if 
anyone should happen to read my records, they would n’t think 
I’m the same girl — don’t you think I’m right?” Secondly, she 
applied herself with the utmost earnestness and conscientiousness 
to the work, seeking to make good; and thirdly, she took a mali- 
cious delight in snubbing the social workers she hated, who were 
frequent visitors there, with so superior an air that she might have 
been to the manner born. A duchess might have copied that cold, 
indifferent, patronizing glance! 
She did her work well; perhaps her efforts to be efficient and 322 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
faithful were a bit overdone, as she frequently made attempts to 
give social service in her own generous, impetuous, and thought- 
less way, to the undisguised delight of the recipient and the stupe- 
faction of the experienced worker. Many amusing incidents were 
told of the perspicuity with which she detected well-to-do patients 
in the throng waiting to receive free medical attention. To such 
she was extremely uncharitable, sending them away with excel- 
lent advice which she would caution them to observe. To those 
who were needy and unfortunate, anything in her power was at 
their disposal. 
She was happy in her work, contented, and normal in health and 
mind. 
The Result 
Nearly two years have passed since the girl was grief-stricken 
over the parting with her friend, the Superintendent. She had 
begged to be permitted to come to the other city, but that was 
not quite possible. Her letters have come regularly, and they 
have brought the information that she is happily employed and is 
living a normal, healthy girl’s life. Several suitors have presented 
themselves, but they have been dissected so critically and unmerci- 
fully that there seems little chance in their favor. According to 
the letters, the only possible chance any one of them may have will 
be to have the Superintendent decide in his favor. 
As the girl was quite willing to give a resume of her life in 
her own words, which would undoubtedly be of interest, and as 
her latest letters give the best present information concerning her 
and hers, they are herewith quoted. 
February S, 1922. 
Of course I’ll be glad to write a short history about myself, if 
it’s going to do just one person some good. 
I looked up the records in the hospital for the time I was a 
patient there; but there are only a whole lot of medical terms 
about my heart, and I don’t suppose you want them. 
I don’t know how to begin, because the great part of my suf- 
ferings was done at home. Owing to home conditions at that time, 
I had to suffer mentally. But I’ll say all I can, even though my 
life history is still having its ups and downs. 
February 13, 1922. 
I was kept so busy at the office that I have not been able to 
write sooner. I received your letter and will do my very best to PRECOCIOUS 
323 
write something about myself. I would appreciate it if you would 
give me just a little idea how to begin. Just show me how and 
where to begin, because there is so much to write, and yet there is 
nothing. 
Would you begin from the time my mother thought it would be 
much easier for me to be sick than it would be for me to go to 
school, not realizing how much it would mean to me later in life? 
Should I say that while as a little child I did not understand how 
much I was missing, but when I was getting older, I started to 
realize more and more, and that meant that war was started with 
me, etc.? Or should I write in a different way? Please tell me 
which way would be best. 
I have been having a lot of trouble at home lately about the 
children, since they were sent home from the institution. I told 
mother they must have educational advantages, and of course she 
does n’t agree with me, so there is trouble. But since it is my duty 
not to have an easy time boarding at , but live at home and 
look after the other children, I am not going to be a slacker. 
Mother knows she can’t do anything with me any more, and she 
is afraid that I’ll pack up and go to B if she don’t let me 
have my own way. 
Mr. W is still coming to see me, but he does n’t come up to 
my ideal. 
February 23, 1922. 
I am sending you the enclosed history of myself, and I hope it is 
all right. If not, let me know, and I ’ll try to write another one. 
I have been having lots and lots of trouble about the children, 
especially Charley, whom mother wants to send to work. He is very 
bright and should have an education. I wish you were here to 
help me out; it’s awfully hard to fight alone. No, I am not going 
to disappoint you and give up the fight. I ’ll fight for the kiddies 
till I win out and let them have their chances in life. 
I wish you could be here to judge of K . He is a doctor; I 
met him in the hospital. But what’s the use? He too doesn’t 
come any where near my ideal. 
Just a Brief Idea of how and what Things used to be: 
Before I start back and tell something of my life, I want to say 
that there are lots and lots of people more unfortunate than I, be- 
cause they were allowed to go to ruin because no one was ever 
interested in them or cared anything about them. I am fortunate 
enough to be a winner, thanks to my Dearest Friend and Father. 324 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
When I was ten years old, I first began to think that there was 
a whole lot wrong with me and nothing at all right. 
First, I remember I was taken to different doctors, who did not 
take much time to bother with me whether I was sick or not. I 
think they were not interested in me to any extent, because I was 
not a private patient. One among them told my mother that I 
had a very bad heart and that he gave up hopes for me. He ad- 
vised just to let me linger along. Mother, who must have thought 
it better to take this doctor’s advice than go into it any further, 
made out that I was dying, and so of course I became an invalid. 
The first thing was not to go to school, and the next was to wait 
for the end. 
This went on for two years and then I realized that I was not 
dead yet, but that I was just as good as dead. Then my fight with 
my mother started, when I tried to explain to her that by making 
me an invalid, she was injuring my whole life; but all in vain. So 
I became an invalid, and so would anybody in my condition. 
One of my greatest tortures was to deal with some of the social 
workers, who did not understand things at all and wanted me to 
do things I did not care for. It would be really impossible to go 
into details, and tell of some of their treatments they gave me to 
do me good, but which only succeeded in making me wish to make 
an end of it all. 
How they disliked me because I was proud! Well, maybe it was 
false pride, but everybody seemed not to understand me, and one 
day I could stand it no more and went to mother and told her that 
I would n’t be dragged around to places for people to have pity 
on me. But she did n’t appreciate what I told her, and the only 
thing left for me to do was to think how to be finished with the 
whole thing in the easiest way. Those were the days I was really 
sick and when I needed a doctor, but not an M.D., but a doctor 
who could really find the way out for me. There is one thing I 
will forget, but never forgive, and that is how those social workers 
tried to help me make a failure of my life by not understanding or 
believing me at all. They thought I was faking all the time, and 
wanted me to go to work in a factory and associate with all those 
people who are ignorant. I never liked ignorant people and did 
not want to have anything to do with them. 
It seems a terrible thing for a young child to have only one hope 
in life, and that hope the only thought to get rid of a disgusting 
life; but what was I to do? But it seems that God was having 
pity on me, for one day in the Home to see the children, I saw what 
a good time those kids were having, and I made up my mind that PRECOCIOUS 
somehow I was going to get into the institution too. So after I 
went into the office, I met the one who has taken a real interest in 
an unfortunate little girl and made her think that life was a differ- 
ent thing from what she imagined. 
Then the sun came out for me too, and I was shown how to fight 
and win out, because God was good to me and sent me a real father 
and real protection. I got rid of those horrible begging experiences 
and began to learn how to be self-respecting, and thank God! no 
longer an invalid! So many friends now came, everybody wanted 
to be my friend now, but I did n’t want them now and did n’t 
need their help. When I needed them, they were n’t there, so I 
did n’t pay any attention to them. 
Of course I did well in Business College because I wanted so 
hard to succeed, and I am glad to say that I did not disappoint my 
good friend. I not only succeeded later on in my work, but it did 
not take long before I was able to help others, and become popular 
with people. To-day I can honestly say that I am holding a posi- 
tion with the highest honor, and am helping in other ways besides, 
so that I have a right to consider myself a respected person in the 
city. 
My love, respect and devotion I will give all my life to my friend 
and father in this world, because if it had not been for him, I am 
sure I would now be resting in h—1. 
Extract from Letter, dated 
March 20, 1922. 
I know you will be very glad to hear that I won out, so I hasten 
to write you. I am so thankful that Charley will have a chance now, 
but I don’t believe I wrote you a quarter of my troubles with them 
at home. 
Well, mother made up her mind that Charley is got to go to work, 
and you know I made up my mind that he would go to College, so 
we were having it out all the time. I made him try to find a job 
after school; but work is so hard to get for all day, that it was im- 
possible for him to find something. Well, as you used to tell me, 
“where there’s a will, there’s a way,” and after I lie awake for sev- 
eral nights, I suddenly remembered what Mr. W of the R 
Company, had promised me when I left his place, that he would 
always be ready to do me a favor when I needed it, so I went up 
to him and asked him to help me out about my brother. Sure 
enough, he is giving Charley a position now for $5 a week after 
school hours, and I made mother satisfied with that. 
325 326 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
Charley can keep on now going to College and have a chance 
to become a real man. 
Then I got busy about Bessie who was working in that factory 
for $10 a week and was being spoiled something dreadful by those 
girls with their paint and powder and lipsticks. I wonder whether 
the girls in B are as bad as here. I am disgusted with them; 
they have no pride at all, it seems to me. So I began to make in- 
quiries among all the people who came into the office, and I suc- 
ceeded in getting a position for her at the A Press, paying $12 a 
week. I think the girls employed here are more decent and she 
will have to behave herself. 
The others are compelled to attend school regularly. I watch 
out for that. CHAPTER VII 
SEX PROBLEMS 
Case A, Samuel H “The Cherub” 
Case B, Edna N “Angel-Face” 
Case C, Mary E “A Stepchild of Fate” CASE A 
SAMUEL H , “THE CHERUB” 
Entered January 12,1917. Age 7 years, 6 months 
1. Delinquency 
(a) Petty pilfering. 
(b) Sexual precocity. 
(c) Uses obscene language. 
(d) Tells lies. 
2. School 
Expelled after a few months in kindergarten class, be- 
cause of attack on little girls. 
3. Home 
(а) Disobedient and impertinent. 
(б) Unmanageable. 
(c) Attempted sex act on mother. 
4. Society 
(a) Lured little girls in hallways and lavatories. 
(b) In a number of boarding homes, foster-mothers complained 
that he was troublesome and constantly annoying little 
girls. 
(c) Friendly and good-tempered. 
(d) Rifled pockets, purses, drawers, any place where he knew 
money was kept, or suspected that it was hidden. 
(e) Offered his stolen gains to little girls for the privilege of 
taking liberties with them. 
(/) Juvenile Court Record (at age of seven): 
Sexual precocity. Stealing and lying. Minor without 
proper care. 
The Problem 
1. Physical 
(а) Beautiful, healthy child; blue-eyed and golden-haired. 
(б) Normal height and normal weight. 
(c) Had been hurt in an automobile accident and temporarily 
used crutches. No permanent injury or deformity. 
(d) Enuresis. Masturbated since the age of five. 
The Analysis 
329 330 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
2. Mental 
(a) Examination — Psychiatrist’s Report: 
Intelligence: Apparently normal. 
Character: Poor basis and poor organization. 
Health: Normal. 
Impression: Definite sexual pervert. 
(b) Personality Traits: 
Sweet, winning manners. Ready smiles. In appear- 
ance, an overgrown, innocent, and lovely baby. 
Hearty eater. Excessively fond of ice-cream, soda- 
water, and candy. 
Plays with dolls and picture-books. No desire for any 
boy’s toys. 
Sleeps like a baby, and sucks his thumb. 
3. Social 
(а) Heredity: 
Father: unknown. Boy believed to be illegitimate. 
Mother: slovenly, brazen, and of questionable character. 
Has no known relatives or friends. 
Claims that she was married to boy’s father and divorced 
him. Has no proof to substantiate her claims. Does not 
know the man’s whereabouts. 
Was living with a man as his common-law wife, and her 
neighbors said she frequently entertained men visitors. 
Had no women callers. 
Blond. Extremely attractive in appearance. 
Siblings: unknown. 
(б) Developmental: 
Healthy, normal, eight-pound baby. 
Had been cared for till three years of age by a very 
young colored girl, paid by the mother, and was not known 
to have had any illnesses, major or minor. 
After that age, he was left to himself in the streets, and 
would be found by the neighbors asleep in their hallways 
and upon their doorsteps. Mother seemed engrossed in 
her own affairs, and was either unable or unwilling to give 
any care to the child. 
When her attention was called to the neglect of the 
child, she was said to have told the well-intentioned neigh- 
bors to “mind their own business.” 
At the age of four, he was taken by the mother to the 
Psychiatric Clinic, and examined upon her complaint that, 
when sleeping with her, he had attempted to assault her. SEX PROBLEMS 
331 
The mother also said that she had noticed he had marked 
sexual tendencies since babyhood, and was always trying 
to entice little girls into her home, for the purpose of at- 
tacking them. 
She further complained that he stole money, used vile 
language, and was very unreliable and troublesome. 
At the age of five, the neighbors reported him as a 
menace to their children and an incorrigible. 
He was then taken from his home and sent to a boarding 
home. 
(c) Habits and Interests: 
He would influence the small boys in the respective 
neighborhoods where he found himself, from time to time, 
to pilfer from their parents’ pockets and purses, for the 
purpose of buying sweetmeats, ice-cream, and soda-water. 
He would steal whenever possible, from anybody and 
anywhere. 
Would bribe little girls with gifts of dolls and candies, 
for the favors he desired. 
Unusually and unboyishly clean in dress. 
Sucking the thumb of one hand, while the other hand 
twirled around his tiny fingers shining, golden curls. 
(d) Home Conditions: 
His mother’s home had been very well furnished, but 
extremely untidy. 
He was not known to have received any affection or 
care in his home. The contrary was rather the case, since 
it was reported that he was frequently cruelly beaten by 
the mother and constantly neglected and ill-treated. 
The home environment of his successive foster homes 
affected him little or none at all, as he was an inmate of 
those homes for a very short period at a time. 
He seems to have followed his own desires and resources 
always. 
(e) Mental Interests: 
None. 
The Treatment 
The boy had been the constant subject of discussion at the 
Children’s Bureau weekly meetings. What to do with him was a 
mooted question, when the tenth foster-mother reported that she 
could no longer tolerate the child, as he was a menace, not only to 332 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
her own children, but to all the children in the neighborhood. Ten 
foster homes of widely differing influence and condition had failed 
with him. 
The psychiatrist on the case suggested, as the best haven for 
the boy, a certain country home, where boys presenting unusual 
sex tendencies were being cared for; but inasmuch as he was de- 
cidedly under the age-limit, that refuge could not be taken into 
consideration. He was far too young for the Reformatory, which 
seemed to be the place for which he was destined. Finally, in 
desperation, a plea was made that he be taken for a very limited 
time on trial in the Orphanage. 
With due cognizance of what his sexual abnormalities might 
mean in an institution, he was admitted, and put under a super- 
vision that was never relaxed by day or night. He himself was 
utterly unconscious of the strict surveillance kept over him. 
His physique was perfect. His last foster-mother, hoping to 
appeal to him through the medium of pretty clothes, had presented 
him with several dainty velvet suits of Little Lord Fauntleroy 
style and cut, and in such a suit, with his head covered with long 
shining curls, he presented a picture of childhood as beautiful as 
it was appealing. But as neither curls nor Fauntleroy suits were 
accepted by the boys of his age in the institution as the proper 
accessories and garb befitting future citizens of an independent, 
democratic country, he had hardly been one half-hour in their 
company, when he came pleading and entreating that something 
should be done to put a stop to his being called “Mary Pickford.” 
“I hate them, I hate them/’ he sobbed convulsively, viciously 
tugging at the golden curls, “I — I don’t want to be a sissy — 
please, please, mister, make me a boy.” 
The next half-hour he was busy with the barber and the super- 
visor into whose charge he had been put. 
Suddenly there was a rush of flying feet into the office, and a 
small blond boy, happy, breathless, and laughing merrily burst in, 
screaming at the top of his lungs, “Gee, I’m a real boy now! 
Good-bye, Mary Pickford!” After him trooped a chorus of small 
admiring boys, who felt that he now deserved the right to take 
rank in their circle. 
He was started at school in the First Grade. From the beginning, 
he was bright, intelligent, and willing. At the Home, he easily fell 
into the routine of work and play, ate and slept well, and while he 
liked to be in the company of the small girls, he had done nothing 
for the two weeks that he was under constant observation to 
justify the evil record attributed to him. SEX PROBLEMS 
333 
As he continued to play normally with the boys of his age, and 
mingled with the little girls, no objectionable features presenting 
themselves in any shape or form, fears were entertained that by 
some uncanny instinct, the little tacker had become conscious of 
the incessant watch kept over him, and was cleverly biding his 
time when, for a moment, vigilance might possibly be relaxed. 
Efforts had been made during the time to gain his confidence 
and affection, which he seemed disposed to grant, so pleased was 
he that his request to be relieved of his curls had been granted. 
It was decided that the safest and wisest plan would be to have 
a heart-to-heart talk with him, baby though he really was in years. 
He was taken into the office, asked some trivial question about 
a certain part in a play which had been given him, and which he 
seemed to enjoy greatly; and then followed a few frank questions 
better suited for a boy twice his age. 
He looked alarmed, burst into tears, pleaded that all the time 
he had been in the institution, not once had he “said a bad word 
or done bad to a girl.” Asked why he did n’t, he replied, that the 
supervisor was always around and “ the other boys did n’t want 
to do it.” 
After much coaxing and the promise of continued good-will and 
“some eats,” he made a disclosure so horrible in its wretchedness 
and abandoned wickedness, that the crime of the evil environment 
in which he had spent the few short years of his baby life stood 
out, ghastly and terrible, an indictment against a civilization that 
would permit it. 
In spite of the fact that he was only seven years old, he spoke 
with the knowledge of a man of the world. His mother had been 
a prostitute, and had entertained men in his presence ever since 
he could remember anything. She had never done any cooking, 
but had fed him on delicatessen stuff and beer since babyhood. He 
had been made to join his mother and her “friends” at their card- 
games, and told how he had seen his mother and the men at times 
steal money from one another, “in a cute way.” “Nobody was 
ever caught,” he said, “and I asked the smartest one, Mr. Hinky, 
to learn me how, and he learned me.” 
There were even worse things that the poor little lad learned. 
Sometimes some men would give him money for candy and send 
him out of the room for a while; but others did not even heed the 
presence of the child. The mother seemed entirely indifferent to 
his presence or absence; and the boy in describing the immorality 
of which his mother had accused him, said, as if he were narrating 
some very usual incident, “Honest, I didn’t mean to do any 
wrong. I seen the men do it and I wanted to do it too.” 334 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
He also described, in full revolting detail, the acts of sex- 
perversion his mother’s visitors had taught him; and added that 
they all laughed when he did it and said he was “a smart kid.” 
It was easy to understand how the spirit of imitation had 
prompted the child to wrongdoing, of the serious consequence of 
which he was utterly unconscious; and how, in his many foster 
homes, he had easily succumbed to the temptations excited by the 
propinquity of little girls. 
He was spoken to with as much force and plainness as if he were 
seventeen instead of seven. The evil consequences of his acts were 
fully described, and the child looked frightened, terrorized, and 
then burst into sobs — a baby after all! 
Every possible device and plan was formed and followed to take 
his mind completely from his past experiences. His normal, whole- 
some life in the institution, the attention and encouragement given 
him in school, and the small rewards held out to him, all had the 
desired effect. No further reference was made to his former un- 
fortunate proclivities; it was hoped that his present life, if it did 
not make him totally forget, at least would succeed in implanting 
the spirit and ability to turn his intellect in a normal channel. 
He continued with his school studies, made good progress, and 
was an affectionate, industrious little chap, willing and anxious to 
please. 
His mother, fortunately for him, died soon after he entered the 
Orphanage, and he became, in fact, the ward of the community. 
The Result 
Report from the Orphanage, October 16, 1921: 
“Boy, fine, normal child. Doing well in school. Very happy. 
No more difficulties. 
“Superintendent feels sex habits were purely imitative.” 
Psychiatrist’s Report, May 28, 1922: 
“Mental examination shows a somewhat dreamy, imaginative 
child, somewhat slow in reacting, whose degree of intelligence is 
probably not shown adequately by the examination. I. C. .82. His 
character appears entirely satisfactory in spite of the unfavorable 
reports of earlier years. No sexual manifestations have ever ap- 
peared. His physical condition is normal. Wassermann said to be 
negative. 
“The boy appears to be a good placement case in a home where 
he will be appreciated and where his special talents may be brought 
out sympathetically.” SEX PROBLEMS 
335 
Report from the Children's Bureau, March 12, 1923: 
“So far as can be ascertained from Samuel H ’s life here in 
the Orphanage, he has developed into an apparently normal at- 
tractive boy. His health is good. His work at school is good. He 
has given no manifestations whatsoever of the old reported trouble. 
“It was decided some time ago to place him in a private home. 
When the subject was broached to the boy, he was apparently so 
unhappy at the thought of leaving the only home he had known so 
long, that it was thought wisest to defer placing him until he was a 
little older and less fearful of the step.” 
(Signed) E. L. L., 
Secretary, Home Placement Bureau. CASE B 
EDNA N , “ANGEL-FACE” 
Entered January 18,1918. Age 10 years, 6 months 
1. Delinquency 
(а) Stealing from stores and neighbors, and picking pockets. 
(б) Accused of sexual relations with boys. 
(c) Habitual school truant. 
(d) Immodest behavior in street, and employing vile and 
obscene language. 
(e) Lazy, impertinent, and disobedient. 
2. The School 
(а) Had been sent to school at the age of five, and was still in 
the First Grade. 
(б) Fond of pilfering from the teacher’s desk, and purloining 
the children’s pennies. 
(c) Taught small girls to expose themselves to the boys. 
(d) Extremely inattentive and dull. 
(e) Quite willing to accuse another child of her own wrong- 
doing. 
(/) Ready liar and stoutly maintaining a lie. 
3. Home 
(a) Pilfering from mother’s customers. 
(b) Sullen; defiant of mother’s authority. 
(c) Frequent spells of hysterical weeping, which brought the 
neighbors in alarm. 
(d) Cursing, scolding, and swearing. 
4. Society 
(а) Antagonistic to authority, and using obscene language 
when reproved for a fault or misdeed. 
(б) Impishly gathered the neighborhood’s children in some 
out-of-the-way corner, and taught them obscene words and 
acts. 
(c) Defiant of school attendance and probation officers, and 
encouraged younger sister and brother, as well as other 
younger children, to mock and disregard them. 
(d) Artfully contrived to get “treats” and “presents” from 
newcomers and strangers. 
The Problem 
336 SEX PROBLEMS 
337 
1. Physical 
(a) Very attractive child. Well-formed, fair skin, large blue 
eyes, blond hair, and dainty features. 
(b) Face so babyish in expression, that she seemed a delicate 
and fragile little child. 
(c) Lips constantly puckering, and smiles coming readily 
when pleased. 
(id) Rather large hands and feet, the former hard, red, and 
disfigured with cuts and scratches, caused by the nails 
unconsciously digging into them. 
(e) Swollen and diseased tonsils. Bad, carious teeth. 
(/) Body extremely dirty and neglected. Scabies and pedic- 
ulosis. 
2. Mental 
(a) Examination — Psychiatrist’s report: 
Intelligence: Mental capacity 8 years. I. C. .73. Social 
classification backward. 
Character: Poor basis. Both parents feeble-minded. 
Health: Thyroid considerably enlarged, but has given 
no marked physiological symptoms. 
Impression: My impression is that the girl is in urgent 
need of change of environment. Later, she should be 
a good vocational case. 
(b) Personality Traits: 
Very fond of personal adornment. Could stand for 
hours at a mirror, prinking and preening, and trying the 
effect of trinkets and bits of ribbon borrowed from the 
children. 
Had little use for soap and water, but very anxious to 
obtain pomades, creams, and lotions. 
Inclined to be sociable and affectionate. Eager to be 
petted and admired. 
Would earnestly offer to care for a supervisor’s room, 
and then pilfer to her heart’s content, from a penny, to a 
garment that could be sold and turned into cash. 
Would guilelessly lift her pure baby eyes, when accused 
of a theft, and earnestly exclaim, “I swear to God, I 
did n’t touch it.” 
Very poor eater, but excessively fond of sweets, pickles, 
and limes. 
Tossed uneasily in her sleep, and was nervous and irri- 
table at times. 
The Analysis 338 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
3. Social 
(a) Heredity: 
Father, was a barber by trade, who worked irregularly, 
and spent his earnings on drink, women of ill-repute, and 
gambling. He had tuberculosis, and was admitted to the 
Consumptives’ Sanatorium on a number of occasions, re- 
maining for a few months each time. 
The attention of the Benevolent Society had been called 
by neighbors to the plight of the family, at the time that 
the woman was in child-bed with her second baby, and 
the man had disappeared. He returned a month later, 
claiming that domestic difficulties had “driven him from 
the home.” 
He was extremely unreliable, and could not hold a job 
longer than a month at most. He drank to excess, used 
vile language, and was extremely abusive to both the wife 
and the children. 
So brutal had been his treatment of his wife at different 
periods, that he had been arrested several times for wife- 
beating. After the birth of his eighth child, he wanted to 
sue for a divorce, because, he claimed, he was still young, 
and wanted to enjoy his life. His wife charged that he had 
intimate relations with a woman, who often visited him at 
the various barber shops where he worked, and wanted to 
marry him. 
Finding that the man and his wife were constantly 
quarreling and cursing each other with the vilest and most 
obscene language, the Benevolent Society, for the benefit 
of the children, suggested a separation between them. A 
few months later they were reunited, but discord and un- 
happiness continued. 
A year later, the man showed signs of mental disorder, 
was confined in an institution, and died a year after his 
commitment. His only relative was a brother, of low 
mentality, in another city, poverty stricken and un- 
happily married. 
Mother, was physically very attractive, and of low 
mentality. 
She was stupid, dull of comprehension, and in revenge 
for her husband’s cruel treatment of her, refused to prepare 
any meals for him or the children, and made her domestic 
affairs the talk of the neighborhood. She nagged and 
swore, using obscene language freely before her young 
children. SEX PROBLEMS 
339 
She and her family were mainly maintained by the 
Charities during her husband’s lifetime, and after his 
death, it was reported to the Benevolent Society that she 
sold liquor, with the assistance of a married man, with 
whom she had improper relations. 
The “restaurant” she opened shortly before her hus- 
band’s death was said to be a “liquor joint” in reality. 
Men and women of questionable character congregated 
there, and spent the night, waited upon and cared for by 
the woman’s children. 
The neighbors complained of orgies and carousals which 
kept them awake at night. The woman indignantly 
denied the stories, and called upon her children as witnesses 
to prove that she was peaceful and law-abiding, and “only 
a poor woman, trying to make a livelihood for her poor 
children.” 
In 1921, she was sentenced to thirty days in jail, for 
selling liquor. An old aunt and several impoverished 
cousins were her only known relatives. 
Siblings: Oldest brother, had been a child raised in the 
streets, who had run the gamut of juvenile delinquencies. 
He had been committed to the Reformatory, and after 
his discharge, he was set to work at various jobs. He was 
an idler, and could not adjust himself. He had had very 
little schooling. 
At the age of eighteen, he was said to be assisting his 
mother in her “business,” and bringing women of ill- 
repute to the house. 
Oldest sister, had been rather a favorite at school, on 
account of her unusual brightness and ability. Though 
she had lost much time from her studies, because of the 
unfortunate home conditions, which compelled her to re- 
main home often, and also because of an operation on her 
foot for some trouble, she still ranked high in scholarship. 
Her teacher had commended her deportment also. 
In 1915, when the girl was fourteen years old, her 
mother complained to the Children’s Bureau that she 
stayed out late at night and associated with undesirable 
boys and girls. Also, that she was impertinent, unreliable, 
untruthful, and very disobedient. Information was 
further given by the mother at that time, that a favored 
friend of her daughter was the driver of a jitney ’bus, who 
permitted her to ride to and from her work in a factory, 340 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
free of charge. The girl frequently did not come home for 
supper, but remained out till quite late at night. 
The investigator questioned the girl, who admitted that 
she was in love with the man, and would have married 
him, but he already had a wife. She rebelled against the 
suggestion that she avoid the man, and insisted that she 
was old enough to do as she pleased. Shortly, however, 
she dropped the man of her own accord, and then followed 
a succession of “loves,” which were many and varied. 
In 1917, she attempted to run away from home, but 
was taken in charge by a Benevolent Organization, and 
placed in a desirable boarding home. Attempting to run 
away from this place, she was sent to a semi-reformatory, 
temporarily. Mental examination showed that the girl 
was normal. The physical examination disclosed the fact 
that she had gonorrhoea in an infectious stage. Several 
men were then accused by her; but on investigation they 
were found not guilty, owing to the subsequent revelations 
that she had had relations with many men. 
She was kept at the institution for six months, till cured 
of the disease, and was then released, upon her promise to 
reform her former ways. A position was found for her in 
the X-ray room of a hospital; but she was discharged 
almost immediately afterward, when it was discovered 
that she had disrupted the morals of the internes. 
With a vengeance, she then resumed her former behavior, 
and was finally committed to the Reformatory. Upon her 
discharge, a year later, she renewed her acquaintanceship 
with a young jitney driver, who married her two months 
before the birth of her child. 
Domestic difficulties followed speedily, and she com- 
plained that her marriage was a most unfortunate one, 
as her husband was unwilling to work. 
At present, efforts are being made to help him adjust 
himself in a mechanical position. 
The girl was remarkably beautiful. 
Older sister, blond and very pretty, was of normal in- 
tellect, and reached the Sixth Grade in school, at which 
time the mother decided that she was “educated enough,” 
and kept her at home constantly, to help her with the 
housework. 
Failing in her studies, the girl became discouraged and 
gladly avoided attendance at school. In time, she took SEX PROBLEMS 
341 
complete charge of the home and the younger children, 
while her mother made and sold illicit whiskey. She also 
acted as waitress at night, in her mother’s “ restaurant,” 
to the disreputable guests. 
In 1921, she was reported to be pregnant, and a young 
visitor, eighteen years old, was arrested upon her charge. 
He married her. No further developments at the present 
time. 
Younger brother, bright, attractive little chap, who is 
inclined to be melancholic and unusually grave for his 
years. He has a rather marked curvature of the spine, 
and keeps aloof from the other boys, whose strenuous 
play is possibly too great a task for him. 
He is a tubercular suspect, and is being watched by the 
physicians of the Charities. 
A short time ago, he was reported by his teacher as being 
an excellent scholar, bright and well-behaved. 
He presents no problem or difficulty at the present time. 
Younger sister, the least attractive physically of all the 
children, was, at the age of nine, reported to the Children’s 
Bureau by the mother, as being unmanageable and “very 
bad.” 
The child’s school-record was rather good, but her 
mother stated “that the teacher didn’t know anything, 
anyhow,” and complained that the child was nearly 
always at the “movies,” and sometimes sang “while the 
pictures were moving, in the theatre.” 
The child was placed in a boarding home, and for a 
time, her behavior improved. Then she began to stay out 
late at night, and was otherwise unruly and disobedient 
to her boarding mother. Upon the latter’s complaint, the 
girl was taken to Dr. G for an examination. He re- 
ported that she had immoral tendencies, and advised 
placing her in an institution immediately. 
She was admitted to the Orphanage about the same 
time as her sister. Her age was nine and a half years. 
The following was the psychiatrist’s report concerning 
her: 
Intelligence: Mental capacity 8§ years. I. C. .94. 
Social classification, usual intelligence. 
Character: Poor basis, but fairly organized. 
Health: Essentially normal, except for dental caries. 
Impression: No social problem at present, except for 
ordinary home care. 342 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
At no time during her stay in the institution, did the 
child present any special problem. She took very kindly 
to the wholesome, healthy environment in which shefwas 
placed, played happily with the smaller girls, and mani- 
fested no undue interest in the boys, large or small. 
Her school reports were satisfactory, and her voice, 
which was very swreet and capable of reaching high notes, 
was cultivated, and she took great joy in singing at the 
Home concerts, plays, and children’s entertainments. 
She craved affection, and was attached and devoted to 
those who treated her with interest and kindness. 
She was a perfectly normal child. 
Two youngest brothers, were hardly more than babies, 
and appeared normal. 
(6) Developmental: 
“She was a good baby, and I nursed her, of course,” was 
all the information the mother would give regarding her 
infancy. Further particulars concerning her early child- 
hood were meagre, beyond the fact that she had two or 
three of the usual children’s diseases mildly. 
Confronted with the obscenities and vulgarities of her 
parents’ lives, almost as soon as comprehension came to 
her awakening senses, she very naturally followed the tide 
of her existence. The lack of morals in the home could 
hardly be counterbalanced by the school atmosphere for 
the short periods she was under its influence; and her 
development proceeded in the same chaotic course that 
brought her sisters to their unhappy careers. 
(c) Habits and Interests: 
Very imaginative; could concoct impossible tales at a 
moment’s notice. 
Very rapid and skillful in her movements. Had a knack 
of secreting things, almost under the nose of her victim; 
her favorite hiding-places being her sleeves and stockings. 
Had very ready tears, to be employed on the slightest 
provocation. 
Liked to stare out of a window, idly twirling her thumbs, 
and apparently neither seeing nor hearing anything. 
Very fond of animals. Would grasp the Home dog in 
her arms, and caress and hug him passionately. Often, 
she would save some dainties from her meals, for his special 
delectation. 
Had bright, sunny smiles that were most alluring, and 
employed them without stint to attain her desire. SEX PROBLEMS 
343 
Sought every opportunity to attend the “ movies/’ and 
was greatly interested in the pictures of the “movie” 
magazines. 
(<d) Home Conditions: 
Her mother was known as a very poor housewife, and 
not a proper guardian for her children. 
During the father’s lifetime, there were drunken brawls, 
quarrels, fights, and arrests. When the mother opened 
her “restaurant,” the child was initiated in the vices of 
abandoned creatures. She was made to wait upon the 
tables her mother set for the night, and became familiar 
with the sight of drunken and debauched figures. Often, 
after her older sisters’ assistance had been withdrawn from 
the mother, the child stayed up nearly the whole of the 
night, and slept the better part of the next day. 
She was fully acquainted with her sisters’ methods of 
life, and thoroughly understood the different things that 
happened to them. 
(e) Mental Interests: 
None. 
The Treatment 
Some of the members of the Children’s Bureau opposed the 
girl’s admission to the institution. They maintained that, in view 
of the disclosures made by the worker in charge of the case, re- 
garding the child’s abnormal sexual proclivities, which were borne 
out by the physician’s examination, she would be a source of con- 
tamination to the other children. As the child was free from any 
venereal taint, was of tender years, and her mind still adaptable 
to the influences of a different environment, that fear was not 
unanimously entertained. 
Thus it was not without difficulty that the child was permitted 
a chance in the Home. She came, silent, unobtrusive, and dreamy- 
eyed, a veritable sprite of guileless innocence. Her “yes, sirs ” 
and “yes, ma’ams,” softly and timidly pronounced, might have 
stamped her a model of childish propriety and modesty. None so 
quick to find suitable nicknames, as children. In a very short 
time, she bore the sobriquet of “Angel-Face,” and smilingly ap- 
propriated it with the sweetness expected of the angels. 
She had been taken into the office and tactfully questioned re- 
garding her antecedents. Without hesitation, simply as a matter 
of course, she answered the queries put to her, and unconsciously 
betrayed the blackness and hideousness of the human wretched- 344 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
ness in which she had been plunged. Informed that the future 
had a different life in store for her, and that it was expected of her 
to conform to methods of living widely differing from that to 
which she had become accustomed, she looked surprised, and 
gently asked, “Why?” 
“Because the life you were living was not good for you/’ she 
was told. 
She shook her head in vigorous denial. “It was too, aw right,” 
she said, “’cause my momma made lots of money; I know, ’cause 
she always tells me everything.” 
“But do you know that it is very wrong to make money in ways 
that are not good and honest?” 
There was bewilderment in her baby-blue eyes. “But ain’t it 
when yuh make money, yuh got it?” she wanted to know. 
“But don’t you think it would be better not to have money, 
than to do wrong and bad things to get it?” 
She was silent, apparently too bewildered and surprised to be 
able to frame any answer. The question being repeated, she 
finally shook her head doubtfully and said, “I don’ know.” 
It was then carefully explained to her that for no reason must 
she employ any “bad” language, or tell any of the children of the 
doings in her mother’s house, and that it was demanded that she 
be a good girl and behave herself at the Home and in school. 
She burst into tears at the mention of school. “I — I — don’ 
want to go to school,” she sobbed. 
“Why not?” 
“’Cause,” she answered. 
“Don’t you want to become a nice, smart girl?” 
“I — I — don’ — care!” she wept. 
“Well then, what should you like to be when you grow up?” 
“Wanta have good times,” she said, brushing away her tears, 
and smiling, in the belief that her point had been gained. 
“What do you call ‘good times’?” 
“Oh,” she replied eagerly, “nice silk dresses, an’ watches an’ 
rings an’ bwacelets, and parties and ice-cream and cake — ” 
As she paused for breath, another question was put to her. 
“Suppose you get pretty dresses, and ice-cream, cake, and 
candies, should you like to go to school then, and try to be a good 
girl?” 
“Guess so,” she hesitatingly replied, looking dubious. 
She was turned over to her supervisor, a trained and experienced 
woman, who had been made acquainted with her history, and was 
prepared to cooperate in arousing a moral sense in her. She was SEX PROBLEMS 
345 
obediently leaving the office, but stopped suddenly in the doorway, 
and timidly questioned, “Ain’t I goin’ home for to-night?” 
“No!” she was told decisively. “You are to stay here in the 
future. This is your home.” 
She burst into violent sobs, and clung to the woman beside her. 
“Please let me go,” she begged, “I gotta help my momma wait 
on the customers.” 
It was with difficulty that her fear in reference to the efficiency 
of her mother’s “establishment” without her assistance was 
allayed, and she permitted herself to be led away, a most woeful 
and unhappy object indeed. 
For several weeks, she was despondent and quite discontented 
with the quiet life about her. She did not want to be “in a place 
where yuh gotta go to bed early, an’ they don’t let yuh have good 
times in the street.” She resented the curtailment of her freedom 
in living and acting as she pleased, and objected to the watch- 
fulness of her supervisor, which prevented her from indulging in 
any of her former pastimes. She preferred making friends with 
the boys, and in consequence was scorned by the girls. 
One of the smaller girls, enraged that she should join the boys 
in a game of marbles, instead of flocking to the group busy jumping 
rope in another part of the yard, yelled out, “ Boy-girl! Boy-girl! ” 
in derision. The name not being to her liking, “Angel-face” lost 
her temper and poise completely, and burst into a tempest of cuss 
words, which brought her to the office in short order. 
“Oh, my, she was saying awful things — honest!” accused the 
complainant, round eyes wide in shocked horror, and rosy little 
mouth open in condemnation. 
“I did n’t too,” she sobbed, great tears rolling down her cheeks. 
“Chee! You can tell big lies!” ejaculated the small accuser, in 
grave surprise. 
“That ain’t no lie,” maintained the other, her breast heaving 
with her sobs; “I did n’t say awful things. My momma says lots 
worse, when she gets angry.” 
“ My mamma never did, honest! ” said the disputant, with proud 
complacency, not cognizant of the fact that her mamma had aban- 
doned her as a baby. 
At this point, the plaintiff was dismissed, and the culprit was 
again taken to task. “Weren’t you told that under no circum- 
stances were you to use ‘bad words’ here?” 
“Yes, sir,” so timidly, as to be hardly above a whisper. 
“Why then did you disobey?” 
“I — did n’t,” she insisted; “I — only said some bad words a 
little tiny bit bad — not the bad words I know.” 346 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
“Did n’t you say the other day that you wished that Miss F 
did n’t watch you all the time, and that you could be like the other 
children?” 
Again the timid, “Yes, sir.” 
“Well, you see what happens when Miss F takes her eyes 
away from you?” she was asked. 
She nodded her head humbly. “ I ain’t goin’ to say no more bad 
things, even teeny-weeny bad things,” she promised. 
“When that happens and you are a good girl, Miss F will 
permit you more out of her sight. But you must show that you 
can be trusted when you are left to yourself, now and then.” 
“Yes, sir,” was the meek reply. 
The bitterest portion in her present life was the fact that, though 
she loathed and abhorred the school, she still nevertheless found 
herself daily trudging to it, an unwilling victim, led by an adamant 
monitor, who was proof against tears and entreaties. Even the 
promised sweetmeats and dresses, also parties and treats to the 
“movies,” were powerless to compensate for the dull, unhappy 
hours spent in the schoolroom. She was found to be exceedingly 
retarded, and extremely stupid, but as she did not present a 
mentally defective problem, she was admitted into the Special 
Class, with the object of observing what time and care would do 
for her. 
She was placed in the Sewing and Embroidery classes, and took 
readily to the needle. She also became interested in the Domestic 
Science Class, and was permitted to cook and bake various messes, 
for her enjoyment and edification. 
There had been some petty pilfering, which, when brought to her 
score, had been readily enough confessed, with apparent regret 
and sorrow; but the amounts taken were hardly sufficient to ac- 
count for the plentiful supply of spending money she seemed 
always to have. A careful investigation revealed the duplicity of 
the child, aided and abetted by her parents. The two, at that 
time separated from each other, visited her and the younger sister, 
who had been admitted into the Orphanage, at different intervals. 
She would bring tales of the father to the mother, and vice versa, 
her imagination finding no difficulty in concocting likely enough 
stories, and would receive rewards for the nefarious information 
imparted. Finding the practice a most lucrative one, her imagina- 
tion worked over-time, and soon the two simpletons doubled their 
visits to her, in their wretched desire to hear, from the lips of 
their child, all possible calumny and evil regarding each other. 
While congratulations were being secretly exchanged that the SEX PROBLEMS 
347 
girl’s thieving propensities had been curbed, since she seemed to 
have abandoned her habits of pilfering, she was accumulating 
numerous pieces of money and had no temptation to add to them 
by different means from the very successful ones she was em- 
ploying. 
The parents were requested to come to the office, and were in- 
formed of the facts in the case. At first, they discredited the 
evidence presented, so anxious was one to believe the worst of the 
other; then, without warning, turned the tables completely, and 
accusing the child of being the cause of their domestic difficulties, 
they then and there became reconciled, and left peacefully, hand 
in hand. 
Finding herself turned into a scapegoat, the child evidently 
sought to revenge herself upon her parents by keeping aloof from 
them, with the fortunate result that she became more tractable in 
her conduct both at the Home and in school. When, however, her 
fund of ill-gotten gains was exhausted, she reverted to her pilfering 
habits, to the consternation of her supervisor, and the detriment 
of that lady’s purse. 
The latter had made every effort to befriend the child and keep 
in close touch with her, in accordance with the plan previously 
outlined, and had frequently permitted her to sew or read in her 
room. At first, some small articles had disappeared from dresser 
or drawer, and the supervisor had most patiently and tactfully 
dealt with the girl, upon discovery of the theft. WTien, during the 
extortion period, no further pilfering occurred, the supervisor felt 
that the child was under her control at last. 
Now, she came into the office discouraged and disheartened, the 
child, with bent head and drooping shoulders, following slowly be- 
hind her. She complained that her purse had been rifled of its 
contents, and that the girl, after repeated denials and many tears, 
was, after several days’ search, discovered to be the perpetrator of 
the deed. 
The child pleaded for forgiveness, crying that she would “be a 
thief no more,” and begging that the supervisor be appealed to not 
to give up the charge of her, as that lady had threatened. 
“I like Miss F ,” she cried, “and I want to stay by her.” 
“Do you show your love for people by robbing them?” she was 
asked. 
Her eyes were downcast and she was sobbing convulsively. “I 
— I did n’t have no money,” she pleaded in her defense. 
“Why did n’t you tell Miss F you wanted some spending 
money? She would surely have helped you get some.” 348 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
“I — I was afraid she would n’t,” came her reply, in stammering 
tones. 
Upon her extravagant and tearful promises, the supervisor 
agreed to give her another trial, and her tears changed to smiles at 
once. However, it was soon after observed with satisfaction that 
she was really making an effort to improve her habits. The con- 
stant friction in the matter of school attendance somewhat les- 
sened, and she tried to make friends with several of the smaller 
girls. Now and then a few minor things disappeared from Miss 
F ’s room; but as the lady was quite willing to continue her 
patience with the child, no change of supervisor was made. 
An effort was made to give the child some responsibility, and 
watch her reaction to it. Her sister, though only one year younger 
than she, yet appeared her junior by several years, being consider- 
ably underheight and underweight; and she was requested to take 
charge of this sister, and help her with her morning toilet and her 
school-work. She fulfilled her duties so acceptably, that it was 
deemed advisable to increase them. She was called into the office. 
“How should you like to be the monitor of one of the small 
girls’ tables?” she was asked. 
“Oh, I’d love it!” she exclaimed eagerly. 
It was customary to have a monitor presiding as Big Brother or 
Big Sister at each table during meals, for the purpose of supervising 
the table manners of the group of smaller brothers or sisters, serving 
the food, and generally assisting them; and the child gladly grasped 
the envied and honorable position offered her. 
She was assigned to a table at which sat some of the youngest 
girls, and assumed her duties with earnestness and sincerity. She 
became very fond of her “little sisters,” and considered it her duty 
to observe faithfully that each one of her charges carefully washed 
her hands before sitting down to the table, and was tidy and well- 
behaved. She scrupulously observed “good manners” during 
meals, feeling that she was setting an example to her group. 
Her responsibilities embraced her sister, to the latter’s annoy- 
ance and disgust. Once, the younger girl, in rebellion, forced the 
older one to accompany her to the office, where she lodged her 
complaint. “She’s bothering me all the time to be good,” she 
remonstrated. “She’s badder’n me. Please tell her to mind her 
own business.” 
“She told me she wants to sing in them nickel-shows again,” put 
in the girl in her defense. 
“I did n’t too,” burst out the younger, hotly. Of the two, she 
was the more impulsive and outspoken. SEX PROBLEMS 
349 
“What did you tell her?” she was encouraged. 
“I said that the nickel-show man saw me when I was coming 
from school, and told me he would give me a whole quarter to sing 
only two times in the show,” she frankly declared. 
“An’ she said that she wanted the quarter for singing,” the 
other accused angrily. 
The smaller one tossed her head. “But I didn’t go, smarty, 
did I?” She made a face at her sister, who burned red with anger. 
“Why did n’t you go?” she was asked. 
“’Cause bad boys come to that nickel-show, an’ nobody’d give 
me permission, I know.” 
The “nickel-show” man was taken in hand almost immediately, 
and advised no longer to molest the child, while the older sister’s 
fears were allayed, and she was commended for her devotion to 
the little girl. She blushed with pleasure, and stammered, “Ain’t 
I getting good now?” 
After this, she began to improve in leaps and bounds, and soon 
she reached the coveted goal, and was permitted to mingle freely 
with the other children. She was very proud and happy when she 
was promoted to the Second Grade, and confided that she meant 
to be a “college lady” when she grew up. 
It was at this interesting point, that her mother, having “en- 
joyed” widowhood for several months, now decided that, as her 
“restaurant” had become more prosperous since her husband’s 
death, and “help” was both hard to obtain and very expensive, her 
daughter should return to her former post as waitress. She there- 
fore came to the office, clothed in the impressive regalia of plumes, 
ruffles, powders, and perfumes, and stated that she desired the girl, 
whom she had found downstairs ministering to strange people’s 
children, and whose arm she now firmly clutched, to be returned 
to her mother’s service at once. 
To her intense astonishment, her daughter looked defiantly at 
her, and announced, “I don’t want to wait on the bums in your 
place, and I ain’t goin’ to come.” 
The mother thereupon turned from her to a higher authority, 
and insisted that since she was, “Thank God, making a nice liv- 
ing,” she was well able to care for the girl herself, and did not 
want to have her continue to remain the beneficiary of charity. 
Her independence in the matter received approval, but how, she 
was asked, did she expect to save the child from the fate of her 
sisters, if she still had no other environment to offer. 
“It was n’t the poor girls’ fault,” blandly explained the woman. 
“The poor kids had to do something to spite that investigator 350 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
from the Charities, who was always bothering them about their 
friends; so they took up with the jitney drivers. Whose fault is 
it, I ask you, that the jitney drivers were loafers?” 
“Then how do you know that Edna, in order to spite some- 
body, won’t also take up with a jitney driver, when she is back in 
your home?” she was questioned. 
“Oh, that’ll be nothing,” she answered indifferently. “If the 
worse comes to worst, I’ll make him marry her before trouble 
comes. I’m smarter now than I used to be.” 
To her indignation and surprise, she was told in unmistakable 
language, that the only condition upon which the girl should be 
returned to her, would be an order from the Judge of the Juvenile 
Court, and she was advised to consult that gentleman regarding 
the matter. 
She ceased her importunities at once, and retired crestfallen. 
At the end of her second year in the Home, the girl was progress- 
ing normally in her school and home-work, was a full-fledged 
monitor, and most of her difficulties seemed of the past. She was 
greatly attached to her supervisor, whose patience and kindness 
she now seemed to understand and appreciate, and was cheerful, 
happy, and contented in the daily routine of her duties. 
Her handiwork was greatly commended by the instructors, and 
she appeared quite fond of domestic duties, which she performed 
faithfully and efficiently. Later, she was elected a member of the 
Self-Government Body, and made it her business to collect news 
for the Children’s page in the Home publication. 
There were no undue sexual tendencies manifested. It was 
recognized that, while her mentality would not permit her any 
scholarly attainments, or training for some higher position in life, 
she would be able to earn an honest livelihood in office or store, 
in some minor capacity. 
Her ambitions were then directed and developed in accordance 
with her abilities. 
Letter received from the girl: 
December 6, 1921. 
My dearest Friend: 
I hope you got home well and happy, and that you had a pleasant 
trip. We had snow here all day Sunday and a little on Monday, 
and I was wondering whether you had any up in B . Is it very 
cold up there? 
I am writing this letter in school. We are supposed to have 
The Result SEX PROBLEMS 
351 
cooking this morning, but the cooking-room is not ready for us, 
so my teacher gave us a free period. Some of the girls are playing 
games, some are sewing, but I took this opportunity to write to you. 
I always wonder whether you know how much I miss you and Miss 
F . 
Tuesday when you came down to the Home to visit us, you said 
you would try and see what you could do for me to get me out to 
my Aunt at R Beach, near where you live. I hope you will 
visit my aunt soon and tell her how much I want to stay with her. 
I will be good and do everything she wants me to. I am sure she 
won’t have any trouble with me. 
I will appreciate this very much if you can do it for me. I am 
going to write to my aunt soon and tell her all about you and Miss 
F , and that I want to live with her, and that you are soon 
coming to see her. Just think how fine it will be for me to live 
near you and Miss F . 
Don’t forget to give my love and kisses to all, please. 
Answer as soon as possible, 
Your little friend, Edna N . 
Upon investigation, it was found that the aunt referred to was 
the wife of her father’s brother, and that the home was not as suit- 
able for the girl as the institution caring for her. She was advised 
to remain where she was. 
The following letter was received in reference to her: 
May 29, 1922. 
Dear Friend: 
I am very glad to comply with your request for a report on 
Edna N . 
The girl is getting along splendidly, and is at present in the in- 
stitution, where she is to remain till the close of the present school- 
term. 
Then she is to be adjusted vocationally, as recommended by 
Dr. D , who examined her lately, and found her greatly im- 
proved. Yours very sincerely, 
(Signed) L. O. G., 
Executive Secretary, Children’s Bureau. 
The Superintendent of the institution reported: 
“No objectionable traits noticed. 
“Conduct good, and school progress fair. Is doing very well.” CASE C 
MARY E , “A STEPCHILD OF FATE” 
Taken under observation July 20,1916. Age 15 ijears 
The Problem 
1. Delinquency 
(а) Attempted suicide by drinking carbolic acid. 
(б) Morbid; melancholic; obsessed by thoughts of suicide and 
death. 
(c) Exceedingly difficult case — first in child-caring institu- 
tion, and then in girls’ home, working girls’ club, and in 
different private homes — by reason of extreme untidi- 
ness, disobedience, and impertinence. 
(d) Very quarrelsome and unwilling to do any work. 
(e) Indolent; defiant and anti-social. 
(/) Undesirable associations. 
2. The School 
(a) Very poor scholarship. Had not gone beyond the Fourth 
Grade. 
(b) Antagonized teachers by attitude of indifference and gen- 
eral carelessness. 
(c) Frequent truancy. 
3. Home 
(a) Unmanageable and very troublesome in institutions, and 
defiant and quarrelsome in own and private homes. 
(b) Obstinate, sullen, and bitter. 
(c) Discontented and very miserable, brooding over possibili- 
ties of revenge, and encouraging sentiments of hatred, 
resentment, and rebellion, to one and all alike. 
4. Society 
(a) Intolerant of reproof; bitterly incensed against any 
criticism. 
(b) Disobedient and disrespectful to elders, and very quarrel- 
some with girls of the same age. 
(c) Freely expressing hate and scorn for her superiors. 
(d) Disliked; ostracized by young people of both sexes. 
352 SEX PROBLEMS 
353 
1. Physical 
(a) Medium height. Well-grown and well-developed. 
(b) Rather attractive in appearance: fair complexion, small, 
dainty features, good teeth, and fine hair. 
(c) Large dark-blue eyes; near-sighted. 
(d) Extremely nervous and unable to focus vision. 
(e) Frequent hysterical attacks, and almost constant illnesses. 
Physicians felt that her indisposition was due to the poison 
she had taken at the time she attempted suicide. 
(/) Wassermann test proved to be triple plus positive; not 
infectious. Treated with “606 Specific.” 
2. Mental 
(a) Examination — Psychiatrist’s Report: 
Intelligence: Normal. I. C. 1.00. 
Character: Poor organization, with poor hereditary 
basis. 
Health: Poor. Congenital syphilis. Should be under 
anti-syphilitic treatment. 
Impression: Peculiar circumstances affecting the case 
render institutional adjustment impossible. Superior 
private home should prove beneficial. Wholesome, 
sympathetic environment, an essential for improve- 
ment. 
(b) Personality Traits: 
Untidy in habits. Careless about person. 
Deep wrinkles marked by an habitual frown strongly 
outlined on the young face. 
Sullen, unfriendly attitude to strangers, very retiring, 
and very anxious to avoid the least attempt at social 
intercourse. 
Pessimistic, bitter, biting words ready to flow from her 
lips at the smallest provocation. 
Hasty, furtive glance, as if both ashamed and afraid. 
Hands never still: either fingers interlacing, or pulling 
at the knuckles, or the nails being bitten. 
Sad, unyouthful drooping of the head. 
3. Social 
(a) Heredity: 
Father: born in Germany, passed his boyhood in Eng- 
land, and emigrated to America in his early manhood. 
Though he claims to be a college graduate, and, when he 
The Analysis 354 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
so desires, gives every evidence of really possessing an 
excellent education, he is uncouth and unpolished. The 
first impression usually formed of him is that of an illiter- 
ate, ignorant, and besotted wretch. 
Possesses a chirography so exquisitely beautiful and 
artistic that by means thereof he could easily have 
qualified in a half dozen professions, he yet remained a 
“jack-of-all-trades”; at different times in his career, he 
was an oyster-dredger, longshoreman, type-setter, carpen- 
ter, conductor, painter, and market-vender. 
A gambler and a common drunkard, he attributed his 
inability to keep a job for any length of time to the fact 
that his employers were unable to appreciate his talents 
and devotion to them. When taken to task for shiftless- 
ness, he would most abjectly promise to reform his meth- 
ods, and would willingly accept almost any kind of work 
offered him. After the first week’s pay was in his pocket, 
he always succeeded in finding some excuse, more or less 
adroit, why he should seek more congenial employment, 
or he would find some naive reason for the fact that his 
services were no longer required. Once he put it, that 
“They did n’t think a man as near-sighted as I am could 
see well enough to do that kind of work.” 
He found his near-sightedness a very convenient ex- 
planation for many of his delinquencies, even offering his 
defective vision in exculpation of the brutal beating he 
had administered to his wife. He claimed that he had 
been “somewhat affected by a drink,” and was unable to 
see his wife clearly at the time, and gave her the beating 
thinking it was an enemy of his. His gross sensualism and 
corrupt morals stamped him a moral degenerate. He was 
afflicted with syphilis in an infectious state. 
In 1897, he first applied to the Charities for aid for his 
family. Later, he frequently left the city, on one pretext 
or another, returning at intervals for a short stay, but 
never adequately contributing to the support of his 
family, which numbered four children in 1907. 
At that time, he disappeared again for about a year, his 
whereabouts being completely unknown. When he re- 
turned to the city, he had a “common-law wife” with him. 
The woman had two children, and claimed that he was 
the father of one. 
He was arrested for non-support, was paroled, and dis- SEX PROBLEMS 
355 
appeared again. After some months, he suddenly reap- 
peared, and started life again as a fruit and vegetable 
vender. For a short time all went well, till opportunities 
for forgery and embezzlement presented themselves; then, 
without compunction, he victimized the relative who had 
generously yielded to his persuasions to be given a chance 
in his business, and was gone, his whereabouts unknown. 
The duped relative deemed him a kleptomaniac. 
The four children had been sent to institutions, when 
their mother’s insanity deprived them of her care. In 
April, 1911, the man suddenly appeared in the institution 
where his daughter and two younger sons were living, and 
demanded that the children be returned to him. He was 
well dressed, seemed prosperous, and was accompanied by 
a woman, who, he claimed, was his wife and the mother 
of the children. He stated that now, since his wife had 
recovered, they were reestablishing a home, and wanted 
their children. Whether the investigation was insufficient, 
or the authorities of the institution were favorably im- 
pressed with the statements and manners of the pair, the 
request was granted, and the children given into their 
father’s custody. 
During the next few years, the man repeated his career 
of vagabondage, gambling, drunkenness, and brutality, 
while the Charities assisted in the maintenance of his 
family. 
In February, 1915, his daughter, then a girl of fourteen, 
attempted to commit suicide by poison. In the hospital, 
she gave as the reason for her act seduction by her father. 
The man was arrested and in March, 1915, was sentenced 
to three years in the penitentiary, on the charge of incest. 
Mother: American parentage, fine family connections, 
had the advantages of a high-school education and excel- 
lent environment in childhood and girlhood. Two of her 
brothers are successful and honored merchants, and two 
sisters have married well and are quite happy. The off- 
spring of these families are all normal. 
The woman met the man at some public function, fell 
madly in love with him, and, against the wishes, and in 
spite of the violent opposition, of her parents, married 
him. They at once disowned her, and never, during the 
rest of her troubled life, did they manifest any further 
interest in her. 356 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
In addition to her four living children, she had a number 
of miscarriages and abortions. Steeped in direst poverty, 
ill-treated and constantly deserted by her husband, the 
poor woman, whatever her reasons may have been for 
clinging to the creature she married, at no time manifested 
any independence of thought or action, but submissively 
accepted her ruined life without complaint. When her 
neighbors, outraged at the treatment accorded her, had 
the man brought to court, she always intervened in his 
favor and had him pardoned. 
She was infected with syphilis by her husband, first be- 
came paralyzed, then insane, and was sent to the State 
Hospital for the Insane, where she remained till her death, 
in 1916. 
Siblings: Oldest brother, a rachitic, deformed child, who, 
at the age of five, was reported as being feeble-minded and 
unable to talk. 
He was sent to the State Training School for the Feeble- 
Minded at the age of six, and was adjudged a low-grade 
moron. He died at the age of eleven. 
Younger brother, was not quite seven years old in 1911, 
when he, his sister, and brother were turned over to the 
father by the institution which had cared for them since 
early childhood. 
At that time, he was a normal, healthy little chap, 
neither troublesome nor displaying any objectionable 
traits. He and the other two children had been parted 
from their mother at so tender an age, that none of them 
remembered her, and they readily believed the woman 
living with their father to be their mother. 
For the four years he remained under his father’s juris- 
diction, he became acquainted with the city streets, 
where he spent a good part of his daily life, but had not 
developed any juvenile delinquency flagrant enough for 
contact with the authorities. 
The school reported him for truancy and mischief. 
Otherwise he had no record at the time of his sister’s 
attempt at suicide, with the reason for which he was fully 
acquainted. He corroborated his sister’s statements at 
the trial, at which he was a witness, and condemned his 
father bitterly. 
Charges of abnormal sex-tendencies being preferred 
against him by his father’s common-law wife, and several SEX PROBLEMS 
357 
of the neighbors concurring in the indictment, he was 
placed in a disciplinary school temporarily. 
His younger brother had been admitted to the Or- 
phanage, which was willing to give him a chance, and he 
entered at the age of eleven. He was a poor physical speci- 
men, pale, undernourished, underweight, and with diseased 
tonsils and adenoids. He had tubercular glands and a 
Wassermann test showed double plus positive, not in- 
fectious. 
The psychiatrist’s report was as follows: 
Intelligence: Normal mental capacity. I. C. 1.00. 
Character: Poor hereditary basis, with congenital syph- 
ilis. Apparently normal. 
Health: Poor. Needs special diet and should be under 
anti-syphilitic treatment. 
Impression: Would be well placed under proper in- 
stitutional guidance. A case for vocational adjust- 
ment on or after fourteen years of age. 
The first two years of his stay at the institution were 
fraught with much difficulty and hardship for his super- 
visors and monitors. He was obstinate, sullen, selfish, 
and extremely cruel to those younger and weaker than 
himself, and also to animals. On one occasion, in order 
to get even with a boy who had angered him, he threw the 
latter’s much prized and dearly beloved puppy out of a 
window, and at another time kicked a cat to death for no 
reason at all. His only excuse was, that the animal always 
got in his way, and he wanted to get rid of her. 
At school, he was both an extremely poor scholar and 
troublesome. He displayed marked tendencies toward 
gambling for and with anything he could get, and was 
very untidy about his person and in his habits. 
The entire forces of the institution were brought to 
bear upon him, and in his last few years at the Orphanage, 
some of his ungainly traits were entirely obliterated, and 
others were checked from further development. 
He was not lazy or shiftless, and was interested in the 
manual-training classes, and also liked to do cleaning and 
fixing about the house. The Fifth Grade was as high as 
he could reach in school. He manifested no sex-tendencies, 
and his childish ambition to be a sailor persisted with him 
in youth. 
At sixteen, he joined the U. S. Navy, and later, for 358 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
meritorious work and conduct, was promoted, till at the 
present time he is a commissioned officer. He is fond of 
his sister and devoted to her. No intimate relations with 
his father. He had been treated with “606 Specific.” 
Youngest brother, not quite eight years old at the time 
of his admittance to the Orphanage, was an attractive, 
well-formed child, apparently normal. 
Despite his tender years, his social knowledge was 
rather extensive, and he was fully aware of, and thoroughly 
understood the erratic relations and conditions that had 
existed in his father’s house. He, too, had been a witness 
at that parent’s trial. 
The Wassermann test applied to him also showed double 
plus positive, not infectious, the same as that of his brother. 
He too received the “606 Specific” treatment. 
The psychiatrist’s report was as follows: 
Intelligence: Mental capacity normal. I. C. 1.01. 
Character: Poor hereditary basis, with congenital 
syphilis. Apparently good organization. 
Health: Satisfactory, but should be under anti-syphilitic 
treatment. 
Impression: Well placed in the Orphanage. Case for 
vocational guidance. 
He was a quiet, easily managed little chap, with ordinary 
abilities and intellect. He displayed no undesirable traits 
or tendencies, and had no special ambition for any particu- 
lar kind of work. 
His scholarship was poor and he was unable to pass the 
Sixth Grade, which he reached with great endeavor and 
much difficulty. He was taught printing, to which he took 
kindly, and at the present is boarding in a private home, 
and earns part of his expenses assisting a printer. He is 
estranged from his father but is very fond of his sister. 
There is no reason why he should not make an honest, 
worthy citizen in the future. 
(b) Developmental: 
No trustworthy record of her early childhood was ob- 
tainable. She herself has no definite recollections of her 
mother or remembers any home life. Paralysis at first 
incapacitated the mother from caring for her, and at the 
age of five, she was put into an institution by the Charities. 
Here she was refractory, disagreeable, and disliked for 
the five years she remained, till her father took her from SEX PROBLEMS 
359 
the institution. For some reason, she was either unable 
or unwilling to make friends among the supervisors or the 
children, and was extremely unhappy. 
She complained constantly of sores which came and 
went upon her feet during most of her childhood, and while 
that condition was being treated, was kept home from 
school. She missed so much schooling, that she was always 
in a lower grade than she felt she legitimately belonged to, 
and in consequence was not interested in her studies and 
sought every opportunity to avoid attending school. 
The teachers found her disobedient and unruly, and 
cared little to tax their patience with the unattractive, 
stubborn child. 
She hailed with sincere delight the opportunity to return 
to the home her father told her he was reestablishing. 
Neither she, nor the boys who were then in the institution 
with her, had any recollection of the mother, who at the 
time was in the Insane Asylum, and readily believed the 
father, who told them that the woman he brought to 
them was their mother. 
The home life to which she was now introduced was 
exceedingly unhappy and wretched. With poverty were 
combined drunkenness, bad company, and gambling at 
all hours; while her portion in the home was the care of 
two sickly babies and the haphazard household. The 
“mother” was constantly out, or busy entertaining 
“friends,” and the girl looked after the family and the 
housework. 
There were frequent quarrels, and during the woman’s 
loss of temper, at a time when the girl was twelve years 
old, the facts of the mother’s insanity were cruelly pre- 
sented to the child, who never recovered from the effect 
of the awful revelations which then followed. 
As she grew older, her father displayed a certain fond- 
ness for her, to the jealous rage of the woman he called his 
“wife.” Her attendance at school had been very poor, 
and then ceased entirely. The wretched existence at the 
miserable “home” terminated with the pitiful attempt at 
suicide made by the girl. 
She stated that she thought death the best way out of 
her dilemma, as her father had threatened her with “ter- 
rible things” if she exposed him. 
She was placed temporarily in the House of the Good 360 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
Shepherd, after her recovery. Later, she was removed to 
a working girls’ home, where she had hardly had a chance 
to adjust herself, when her father’s common-law wife 
called upon her, quarreled bitterly, accusing her of all 
kinds of infamy, and upbraided her for the charge she had 
made against the man, who was then under arrest. 
The girl became hysterical and insisted on leaving the 
Home, because all the other girls had heard the woman’s 
remarks and she was ashamed to face them. She was 
removed to a private home, to which she could not adapt 
herself. She was again transferred to another girls’ club, 
and it was reported that she was frequently ill, very un- 
happy, and very unsociable. 
Later, it was claimed that she rebelled at any super- 
vision, was headstrong and impertinent, and insisted on 
associating with men whose names she did not even know. 
Several other boarding homes followed with indifferent 
success — the girl was a problem to the community! 
(c) Habits and Interests: 
Indifferent to personal appearance. 
Long periods of depression and brooding, followed by 
crying spells. 
No youthful energy or life apparent in daily routine. 
Existing through the days mechanically and hopelessly. 
No ambition, desire, or fancy expressed, or in any way 
manifested, for some particular work, or activity, or any 
of the usual girls’ pastimes, pleasures, or pursuits. 
No sex-tendencies. 
No desire for a friend or confidant. 
(d) Home Conditions: 
Whether the home life of the girl in the institution, 
which was really the only home life she knew, was lacking 
in proper influence, or unable to impress her at the forma- 
tive period of childhood, certain it was that she missed 
the advantages and happiness of a genuine home environ- 
ment. 
As her obstinacy and impertinence to her superiors grew 
in proportion to their lack of patience and understanding 
with her youthful misdeeds, she became more and more 
imbued with the spirits of antagonism and hatred. She 
was as glad to leave the institution, as the institution was 
to part with her. 
In her father’s home, where no wholesome act or in- SEX PROBLEMS 
361 
stinct flourished, and no healthy spirit or influence thrived, 
it was inevitable that the untutored and friendless child 
should succumb to the wretchedness and vice rampant 
about her. Worse than orphaned, taunted by the shame- 
less woman who had taken her mother’s place, and ignorant 
of the world and its ways, she drifted along in the bitter 
and dark waters of her existence, till death appeared to 
her to be the only way out. 
With her horrible experience weighing upon her mind, 
and her father’s denial of guilt and counter-charge that 
she had had immoral relations with his friends, she quite 
naturally developed a frenzied attitude toward the world. 
Abnormal in her thoughts and confused with her new 
surroundings, she was hardly a fit subject to adjust her- 
self properly to the girls’ homes, clubs and successive 
private homes, wherein dwelt normal, contented people, 
whom she could not understand, and who in turn would 
not, or could not, comprehend the poor, broken little 
creature. 
(e) Mental Interests: 
None, save nightmares of wild and morbid speculations. 
The Children’s Bureau, extremely anxious to assist the unfortu- 
nate girl, and at the same time driven desperate by the unsuccess- 
ful attempts to adjust her in the Club and at the Home, requested 
one of its ablest and most philanthropic representatives to act as 
Big Sister, and endeavor to gain her confidence. This lady most 
generously undertook the trying task, and though she spared 
neither time nor efforts in the attainment of her project, she failed 
signally. The girl repulsed her friendly attempts, and became in- 
creasingly difficult as she was transferred from one home to another. 
A happy thought occurred to the lady to change the environ- 
ment of the girl so completely, that different scenes and different 
people would unconsciously play their parts in bringing forget- 
fulness, and possibly relief, to the troubled mind. 
With this point in view, a well-kept, successful girls’ club in 
another city was appealed to, and the girl was sent there. Before 
leaving, she visited her two younger brothers in the Orphanage, 
and then came to the office seeking some favors and advantages 
for them. Silent and repellent, she relaxed from her taciturnity 
only when her brothers were in question. She was manifestly very 
The Treatment 362 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
fond of them and very desirous of safeguarding their interests. 
They had evidently informed her that they were quite contented 
with their new surroundings, as she opened the conference with, 
“Thank Heaven, I’m glad the boys will now have a good home.” 
It was a futile attempt to endeavor to break through her frigidity 
and seek any cordial response to a friendly attitude. When her 
brothers were not in question, she immediately shut up like a clam, 
cold and grim, her young face disfigured with age-old experience 
and bitterness. As it was the forenoon, and her train was not to 
leave till the evening, she was invited to spend the day with the 
boys. She looked up quickly, surprised and thoughtful. 
“Do you know all about me?” she questioned antagonistically. 
“Yes.” 
“Do the people in the house know all about me?” Her eyes 
were hard and bitter. 
“No! There’s no necessity for them to know anything.” 
“Oh!” She was thinking. “Do the kids here know anything?” 
She seemed to be hanging upon the answer. 
“No! There is absolutely no need for them to know anything 
about your affairs.” 
“Oh!” she muttered. She sat silent, and was plainly hesitating. 
There was but one way to reach her soul, and that was through 
the brothers she loved. “You know you’re not likely to see the 
boys for some time; you’ll be glad you spent the day with them,” 
she was gently reminded. 
“Thank you very much. I’ll stay,” she replied simply. 
She was their shadow that afternoon. The younger one espe- 
cially came in for affectionate demonstrations of her love for him. 
She showered upon him expressions of her solicitude for his welfare 
and happiness, that were almost maternal in their sentiments. 
“Please! please don’t let them grow up like him,” she gave voice 
to her anxiety at parting. 
The “him” was tacitly understood. 
“You’ll write and keep in touch with them?” she was asked. 
“Oh, yes”; she nodded her head emphatically. 
“Then you’ll be satisfied about their welfare,” was the assurance 
given her. “You’ll be a welcome guest any time you come to see 
them.” 
“I wish — I wish I could stay with them,” she stammered; and 
then burst into convulsive sobs. She became calm after a while, 
apparently making a strong effort to control herself, and assumed 
her habitual attitude of grim silence. 
“Please don’t let them grow up bad,” was her parting request. SEX PROBLEMS 
363 
She wrote to them several times a week, and once weekly there 
came regularly to the office a letter of inquiry regarding the 
brothers’ behavior and progress. By employing these letters as 
a medium for a continued correspondence on a matter of common 
interest, friendly relations were being established, though probably 
she was unconscious of that fact. Gradually she would permit a 
few words regarding her own life and welfare to creep into her 
sentences. 
In this way, it was gathered that she was adapting herself to 
the wholesome life in the Girls’ Club, and was apparently more 
contented than she had ever been in her life before. In one of her 
rare sentences concerning herself, she had said, “The girls here 
have such a good time and they make me have a good time, too. 
Is n’t it funny that I could have a good time?” 
The matron of the Club reported the girl as rather “queer,” but 
wrote that she was making an effort to please. It did seem as if 
she had found the haven she needed, and the Children’s Bureau 
was congratulating itself upon a happy solution to a difficulty, 
when the bolt fell from what seemed a clear sky. 
The official of the Club, who had been made acquainted with 
the girl’s history at the time arrangements were made for the girl’s 
admission to the institution, found it necessary to render a report 
to the members of her Board. This lady gave the facts and par- 
ticulars of the unfortunate case, in confidence; but before the 
week had passed, one or two of the girl inmates of the Club had in 
some manner heard part or parcel of the pitiful story, and the poor 
creature found herself suddenly despised and snubbed. None of 
her former companions would associate with her; not only that, 
but no girl would remain in the same room or at the same table 
with her. 
The matron desperately tried to mend matters with every means 
in her power; but the girls demanded that the outcast be removed 
from their midst, and the lady, fearing that the fits of melancholy 
and depression into which the girl was now sunk might result in 
another suicidal attempt, sent a hasty message to the Children’s 
Bureau, imploring that she be relieved of the difficult case. 
Before the Bureau could devise ways and means to accede to this 
request, the girl took matters into her own hands. Finding that 
she received a cold shoulder at every request for a loan from her 
former friends, she helped herself to the necessary amount of fare 
from the matron’s purse, leaving a note in which she promised to 
repay the sum taken, as soon as she had money, and made her ap- 
pearance at the Orphanage. She came to the office first. CHILDREN ASTRAY 
364 
“Here I am,” she announced; “I’ve come for advice. I don’t 
want to see the boys till I know what to do with myself.” 
She poured out the sad story of her ostracism and pain, and 
made a free confession as to how she had obtained the fare to come 
“home.” “It’s no use,” she ended bitterly; “wherever I’ll be, 
wherever I’ll go, they’ll soon know all about it. Why did n’t they 
let me die at the hospital? I can’t live, and they won’t let me die. 
Wbat do they want me to do?” 
She was put in charge of the nurse while a conference was held 
concerning her. It was decided to try another private home for 
her, while efforts were to be exerted indirectly, through her broth- 
ers, to reach and influence her. 
She was informed of the new home that awaited her. A bitter 
smile passed over her face and she shrugged her shoulders carelessly. 
“For how long?” she asked. “As soon as the lady finds out about 
me, she has no more use for me.” 
“This lady knows nothing, and will continue to know nothing,” 
she was told. “Should she by any chance hear something, your 
conduct must be such, that she will not believe anything. Do you 
realize that it is up to you to make your brothers into good men?” 
She was startled. “Me?” her lips were trembling and white. 
“Yes, you are their sister, and the example they will follow.” 
“O my God!” Tears poured down her face and she stretched 
out her hands imploringly. “Please — please help me!” she 
begged. “I’ll do anything — I’ll work my fingers off if they’ll let 
me — only they should n’t grow up like — him.” 
As she had neither education nor training of any kind, it was 
difficult to place her at any congenial employment. She herself 
had no special predilections toward any occupation, but was quite 
willing to put her hand to anything that should be suggested to her. 
During her various periods at the homes and clubs, she had at- 
tempted to work in different factories, but could adapt herself 
neither to the work nor to the manners of the place. 
She was sent to a trade school and carefully watched for any 
preference that might manifest itself in an individual line of work. 
Ultimately she evinced great enthusiasm for the milliner’s art, and 
while she was learning to become “a hat artist,” as she quaintly 
expressed it, efforts were made to give her the benefits of a well- 
regulated and wholesome home life. The sympathies and interest 
of her boarding-home mother had been enlisted, by informing the 
woman only of such facts as were necessary to awaken her pity, 
with the happy result that she was very gentle and patient with 
the girl’s faults. The Orphanage, too, held its doors hospitably SEX PROBLEMS 
365 
open to the bruised and wounded child, and she would come, at 
first timidly and half-frightened, and then eagerly and quite sure 
of her welcome, to the office, and talk over her day’s activities and 
possibilities. She never failed to make anxious inquiries about her 
brothers, and seemed to hold herself responsible for their good 
conduct and future welfare. 
To be able to pay off the “loan,” as she termed it, to the matron 
of the Club, and also to give some spending money to her older 
brother, who, missing some, had appropriated another boy’s, she 
herself obtained a position in a department store for evening and 
Saturday work. She hoarded her wages till she had paid off that 
“loan,” and then put each of her brothers on an allowance, while 
she walked to save car-fare. 
After six months’ apprenticeship, she became the “hat artist” 
she yearned to be, and shortly earned a salary sufficient to support 
herself. 
“It’s not such a bad thing to be alive,” she confided, as with 
the joy of achievement shining in her eyes, she told of the “crea- 
tions” which had brought her a substantial raise; “that is,” she 
hastily caught herself, “if they let you live.” 
She was still ostracized by the girls of her age, who either knew 
or, in some uncanny way, would learn of her history; and when, 
weary and despairing, she would come into the office and cry her 
forlorn heart out in the agony that the snobbery and contumely 
caused her, she would be encouraged and inspired to continue her 
fight, through the medium of the boys. The older of the two was 
in many respects a problem to be dealt with, and his delinquencies 
were told her in confidence, and her assistance with him requested. 
Her worry and fear lest the boy grow up into a counterpart of 
his father, in time superseded her own woes in her mind. She would 
deprive herself of small luxuries so that she might give the boy the 
things and allowances he requested. “I couldn’t help what he 
was, but I can try to make them good,” she would repeat fre- 
quently, almost as if it were a promise to herself. Told that she 
would have to cultivate cheer and happiness, the better to impress 
her brothers with a sense of joy in life, the poor child made every 
effort to fight against the fits of depression that would assail her. 
As a means of introducing her to the young life absolutely 
necessary for her normal development and progress, she was taken 
to balls, parties and outings, where young people congregated, and 
introduced to their circle. She made friends readily, and all went 
well till, sooner or later, the young women learned of her history; 
then they refused to continue their friendship with her, even 366 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
though they admitted that she was “a nice girl.’' The young men 
did not withdraw their friendship; they, on the contrary, became 
warmer in their regard, till some dishonorable proposal brought 
the girl, in tears, and suffering wretchedly, to the office, seeking 
hope and consolation. 
“Is it always going to be like this?” she questioned in piteous 
accents, “Are they never, never going to let me forget?” 
Unfortunately for her, the daily papers, at the time of her at- 
tempted suicide, had seen a story of unusual human interest, and 
had given space and publicity to her and her sad experiences, with 
the result that there were few she met who did not know or, know 
somebody who knew, of the sordid and tragic occurrences in her 
short life. 
“They think that children must be like their parents,” she ob- 
served sadly, her voice quavering. “But — I’m not bad,— 
honest, I’m not as bad as the good girls, — and — we won’t let 
the boys be bad!” 
The “boys” were at once her greatest anxiety and comfort. As 
much as she feared for them, so much she hoped for them. There 
was no sacrifice she was not ready to make for them, and, at the 
time, they were unconsciously instrumental in keeping her from 
the desperation to which she seemed frequently ready to yield, 
when tried beyond her strength by the contempt of her kind. 
It was deemed advisable to remove her to a neighborhood where 
she was less known, and where she might have better opportunities 
for making and keeping young friends. Fortunately, her boarding 
mother, genuinely attached to her and anxious to assist in her wel- 
fare, was quite willing to move elsewhere, and selected a pretty 
nearby suburb as the new site for her home. 
In a different locality, with new surroundings, the girl improved 
physically, and enjoyed whatever social opportunities presented 
themselves. Her work was quite satisfactory to her employers, 
and with increased prosperity, she took more interest in her clothes, 
tried to beautify her surroundings, and began to display a normal 
girl’s healthy desire for an attractive and dainty appearance. She 
was advised to further her education by attending night school, 
and this she conscientiously did for the full term. 
As her older brother improved at the Home, her anxiety regard- 
ing him became less keen, and she was more hopeful of the future 
for him. Her terror lest he turn out like his father had somewhat 
abated, though, when any complaint concerning him was brought 
to her, she would take him aside, reprimand him most severely, 
and hold the example of his father before him, merciless to herself 
in her love for the boy. SEX PROBLEMS 
367 
“You know where he is,” she would scold the youngster; “do 
you want to be there too?” 
Once, when the boy had a particular streak of mischief for 
a week, she came with a suggestion which, from the quivering 
muscles in her wan face, plainly showed how much pain it must 
have caused her to conceive the plan. “Don’t you think it would 
make him behave himself if — if he went to see — where his 
father is for being bad?” she asked, in very low tones, in a voice 
which could hardly be understood for the trembling in it. 
Given to understand that such a course might have a disastrous, 
rather than a beneficial effect upon the boy, she sighed and said, 
“Well, you see, we must do everything to make him good. — I 
must show everybody that — that we children are good people.” 
At some young people’s gathering, she met an industrious, 
worthy young man, who promptly proceeded to fall in love with 
her. She returned his affection, but confided that she was n’t 
going to show him that she cared for him in the least, till she found 
out whether his intentions were honorable. “He is a Catholic, 
besides,” she added, regretfully; “so I suppose it’s no use even 
allowing him to come to see me.” 
The boarding-home mother was communicated with, unknown 
to the girl, and gave the information that the prospective lover 
was a most respectable and estimable young man, and had been 
unremitting in his attentions to the girl, who treated him with in- 
difference. The good woman agreed to supervise her charge with 
most tactful care and consideration, and make every effort to 
retain her confidence in the matter. At the Orphanage, precau- 
tions were taken to find more pretexts than ever to bring the girl 
to the office. 
Meanwhile, under the stress of her love-emotions, and the ad- 
vantages of the wholesome, care-free life she had been leading, 
the girl blossomed into an attractive and charming young person. 
One Sunday afternoon, she came into the office, pink-cheeked and 
bright-eyed, and asked for a confidential interview. 
She explained with many happy blushes, that “Bob” had 
asked her to marry him, and only wanted her to become a Catholic, 
so that his parents should not be offended. 
“And what did you tell him?” was asked her. 
She blushed red. “That — that I loved him, but — it was all 
up to you.” 
Here was a dilemma, indeed! 
The next question was asked as gently as possible. “Did you 
tell Bob of the past circumstances?” 368 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
“Yes, and he said he loved me and did n’t care. That’s why I 
love him so dearly,” she answered. 
“Well, it might be wise to see Bob — ” 
“Oh, you want to see him?” she eagerly interrupted; “just one 
moment!” And out she flew and returned almost immediately, 
leading a bashful young man, who seemed inclined to follow at 
her beck and call. 
She quite willingly left the young man to the confidential inter- 
view that followed. It was learned that she had informed him of 
every detail and circumstance connected with her past life, sparing 
neither her father nor herself. “ It was not her fault,” asserted the 
young lover, “and I’ll marry her if she’ll have me.” 
The matter was carefully considered, and then it was deemed 
advisable to suggest to the girl to accept the young man’s prop- 
osition, if a medical examination found her in good health and fit 
for marriage. 
Several months later, she embraced Catholicism and married 
him. 
The Result 
Dearest Friend: Febrmry 21<1922' 
Your letter came a few days ago, and you can’t imagine how 
happy Bob and I were to hear from you. If the baby had sense, 
he’d be happy, too, but he’s too busy making such a racket that 
I wonder how I can write at all. When he grows up, you can bet 
that he ’ll be as glad to hear from you as we are. I’m going to send 
you another picture of him I took last week on his first birthday 
— he surely is some big, splendid boy. 
Bob’s business is getting along very nice, and we are very happy. 
Sometimes I think that I’m too happy for it to last, but please 
don’t scold me for having such thoughts, but it seems too good to 
be true. 
Did you get a picture from Harry in his officer’s uniform? I was 
so happy that I cried my eyes out. Bob said all women are funny, 
because they cry when they are happy and cry when they are sad 
— but I tell him he does n’t know much about all women anyway. 
Tom promised me to write you a nice, long letter and tell you 
how well he is getting on. He is in the printing business and I have 
my eyes on him all the time. He is getting so big and fat you 
would hardly know him. I think I am going to be proud of him too 
— don’t you think so? 
I have decided to make my own boy the Superintendent of an 
Orphan Home when he grows up. What do you think? SEX PROBLEMS 
369 
Did I write you in my last letter that our little home will soon 
be our very own? We have just three more payments to make, 
and I just can’t tell you how happy we are we took your advice 
and bought our home. Bob has wonderful plans for a garden this 
summer, and we just can’t wait for May to come. — We are going 
to send you the first vegetables we raise, honest. 
I have lots more to tell you, but the baby is pushing everything 
in front of me, to keep me from writing, I suppose. Do you think 
he’ll be so selfish when he grows up? I am hoping that he will 
have more sense, and then he will write to you himself. 
So for the present I ’ll have to close, with best wishes and lots of 
love from Bob, little Bob, and of course, 
From your own girl, 
Mary E . CHAPTER VIII 
INTRACTABLES 
Case A, Edward P “The Christmas Gift” 
Case B, Joseph K “Chinky” 
Case C, Bernard J “The Photographer” CASE A 
EDWARD P , “THE CHRISTMAS GIFT” 
Entered November 17, 1916. Age 13 years 
1. Delinquency 
(a) Was pilferer when not quite seven years old at an Institu- 
tion for Dependent Children. 
(b) Truant. Would work at a store in the vicinity instead of 
attending school. 
(c) Constantly bunking out. Would stay away from the 
Home for a week at a time. 
(d) Marked sexual tendencies. 
2. School 
(a) Persistent truancy responsible for retardation of several 
years. 
(5) Listless; impertinent; disobedient, and refused to make 
any effort at application. 
(c) Threatened to commit suicide when reprimanded by the 
principal or teachers. 
3. Home 
(a) Disorderly; sly and cunning petty thievery. 
(b) Lazy; would neglect all duties assigned to him. 
(c) Unruly and disobedient. 
(d) Untidy in person and filthy habits. 
4. Society 
(a) Constantly disagreeing and squabbling with the children. 
(6) Defiant and insulting to supervisors. 
(c) Frequently found in the girls’ dormitories and lavatories, 
and always had a ready excuse when detected. 
(d) Had a very plausible and appealing way of enlisting out- 
side sympathy; he would plead hunger and loneliness to 
all individuals who would listen compassionately to him, 
and would receive gifts of clothing, money, and food. 
(e) Pleaded with the neighbors for a chance to run their 
errands and do some work for them in home or store, be- 
cause he wanted them as friends. Would steal from them 
whenever entrusted with change, or permitted to tend the 
shop. 
The Pkoblem 
373 374 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
(/) Juvenile Court Record: 
Habitual and incorrigible truant. 
Minor without proper care. 
A moral degenerate. 
The Analysis 
1. Physical 
(a) Fifteen pounds underweight, pale and sickly looking. 
(b) Very short in stature. Drooping attitude. 
(c) Sharp, small features and keen dark-gray eyes. 
(d) Shape of head good. Teeth badly carious. Normal pubertal 
development. Had spinal curvature which had been 
neglected; also an arm broken in early childhood had been 
improperly reset, with resultant deformity. The first im- 
pression suggested a hunchback. 
(e) Had every possible disease of childhood, contagious and 
otherwise, and had also been operated upon for appendi- 
citis and peritonitis. 
(/) Masturbated since the age of six. 
(g) Constantly complaining of aches and pains. 
2. Mental 
(a) Examination — Psychiatrist’s Report: 
Intelligence: Boy shows high-grade intelligence. 
Character: Good character basis, but poorly organized. 
Health: Poorly nourished. Poor physique. Old surgi- 
cal scar needs reexamination. Must be given a 
specially wholesome and nutritious diet. 
Impression: My impression is that the boy’s main need 
is for a well-disciplined, good home, similar to that 
offered by the Orphanage. 
Showed brightness and no little ability in answering 
questions and winning favorable regard. 
(b) Personality Traits: 
Fond of pleasure in general and of the moving pictures 
in particular. At one time, is cheerful and good-humored, 
and the next moment, is morose and depressed, talking of 
committing suicide. Fibs easily but confesses just as 
readily. Believes that he is unhappy and discontented 
because he has no parents or relatives. 
3. Social 
(a) Heredity: 
No known father, mother, or relatives. 
Foundling; believed to be illegitimate. INTRACTABLES 
375 
(6) Developmental: 
One Christmas Eve, a kind-hearted woman determined 
that, notwithstanding the insults and rebuffs given her by 
her drunken neighbor, she would insist on finding out the 
cause for the continual crying of the few-months’-old baby. 
A few weeks previously, the baby’s foster-mother had 
died, and on her death-bed had extracted a promise from 
her husband that he would always care for the baby. 
The foster-mother, who was herself childless, had sud- 
denly appeared with the baby in her arms before her 
neighbor; and told the woman that a girl she had known, 
and in whom she was interested, had brought the baby to 
her and had asked her to take care of it. She further ex- 
pressed the fear that her husband might not like to be 
bothered with the baby, but had decided to keep and care 
for the child, notwithstanding her husband’s objections. 
She was practically dying of tuberculosis at the time, 
and refused to heed her good neighbor’s advice and en- 
treaties that she should not take an extra burden upon 
herself in her illness, and further antagonize her husband 
who had been treating her cruelly for years. But the poor 
woman insisted upon doing her duty as she said, and for 
the few weeks she lingered on earth, she cared for the baby 
devotedly. When dying, her pleas to her husband for 
the baby were most heartrending and affecting, the neigh- 
bor said. 
All the latter knew of the woman, was that she had been 
a good, honest, hard-working creature, who had suffered 
abuse and blows from the husband, who was an habitual 
drunkard. As far as was known, she had had no young 
relative or friend who was the mother of the child, and had 
neither given nor left any possible clue by which the 
child’s parentage could be traced. She had been singu- 
larly and resolutely silent on that point, when questioned 
by her neighbor, and had also withheld all information 
from her husband. The couple were Germans who had not 
become Americanized. 
After the woman’s death, the baby was sorely neglected 
by the man, who was now nearly always drunk. He dis- 
couraged the visits of his neighbor to the baby, who was 
“always crying and remained alive only by a miracle,” 
declared the neighbor. She had been making up her mind 
to call the attention of the Society for the Prevention of 376 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
Cruelty to Children to the case, when the crying of the 
baby on this particular Christmas Eve roused her to in- 
stant action. 
She braved the vile language of the man, and entered 
his home forcibly. The baby was lying on the floor shriek- 
ing with all its might, and the man, angry and drunk as 
usual, was cursing and scolding it. The woman grasped 
the child and pleaded with the man to let her care for it. 
He stormed at her, then burst into a loud laugh, and said, 
“All right! Take the bastard for a Christmas present”; 
he pushed both of them out of the door. 
He displayed no further interest in the child and shortly 
afterward disappeared from the neighborhood. His neigh- 
bors thought he must have met with an accident, as the 
home remained intact, and he never came back for any of 
his possessions. 
The woman kept the baby for a few days, and then 
turned it over to the Foundling Asylum, claiming she had 
a large family of children and was unable to give the new- 
comer proper care. 
The child remained in the Asylum till the age of six, and 
there being no possibility of an adoption, as he was un- 
attractive and sickly, he was transferred to an institution 
for dependent children. 
He was, however, cute, talkative, and affectionate, and 
an official of the institution gave him his own name and 
was very much interested in him, even planning to adopt 
him; then the boy suddenly began to develop ugly little 
tricks and objectionable traits. The official lost interest 
at once, and the boy was seven years old, when the Super- 
intendent of the institution having decided the child was 
a “born criminal,” he was transferred to another institu- 
tion where the discipline was more rigid. 
Here he gave considerable trouble, and a year later, the 
Superintendent of this institution requested that he be 
taken elsewhere. 
A semi-reform school was his next home, and here he 
developed tendencies which caused the officials to take 
him to a neurologist for treatment. The nerve specialist 
termed him a “moral degenerate,” and under this charge, 
he was brought into court and committed to a Reformatory 
when not quite twelve years old. 
Here an effort was made to have him learn to work, and INTRACT ABLES 
377 
also to respect authority, which he defied. As he abhorred 
anything that had the least semblance of labor, he was 
a most difficult case and was dealt with very sternly. His 
associates were the most hardened of the boys and he 
quickly learned their worldly philosophy and callous ways. 
A former Reformatory inmate, then in the Orphanage, 
received a pitiful letter from him and, without consulting 
anyone, wrote in reply that he would do well to devise 
ways and means of coming to the Orphanage. 
One bright morning, he appeared, ready to give the 
place a trial. He was sent back to the Reformatory and 
very soon again presented himself. This time he pleaded 
to be given a chance in a real home. He was sent back 
again, but his request was taken into consideration, and 
shortly, after certain preliminaries had been adjusted, he 
was formally admitted as an inmate of the Orphanage. 
(c) Habits and Interests: 
Careless in attire and personal cleanliness. Would chew 
on his nails and bite his fingers. Voracious eater and ex- 
tremely fond of sweets, which, if not easily procurable, he 
would steal. Craving sympathy all the time by hard-luck 
stories. If necessary, had ready tears at will. Always 
willing to promise most faithfully to reform and behave 
himself. 
Was greatly interested in the stores in the neighborhood 
and made friends with the shop-keepers. Very anxious to 
go on errands. 
Very fond of animals. 
(d) Home Conditions: 
The influences the various institutions had attempted 
to draw about him had failed most signally. Apparently 
of an affectionate disposition, yet during all his wander- 
ings he had not succeeded in either attracting or being 
attracted by any human being, for his ultimate benefit. 
He despised and hated most of the caretakers and super- 
visors with whom he had come into contact during his life, 
and his attitude towards them was most revengeful. He 
was desirous of visiting the Homes but not the people. 
(e) Mental Interests: 
Had no desire for books of any kind. Even viewed 
highly illustrated books of adventure with stolid in- 
difference. 
Sole desire and ambition, to attract and amuse girls. 378 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
The Treatment 
He came, a poor, pitiful and unhappy creature, and forlornly 
took the place assigned to him among the boys. He seemed very 
weak and delicate, and the youngsters crowded about him anxious 
to cheer and comfort him, especially since he had given them a 
mournful story of his life and had told them that “he had no one 
in the world.” Their ready sympathy and assistance made things 
very comfortable and home-like for him, and he brightened up and 
became rather cheerful. 
Right after supper, he came into the office, a flush upon his 
face, his eyes bright and his features animated. He was carefully 
leading Prince, the intelligent and gentle collie dog, loved and prized 
by all the children, and as he made the request, he continually 
patted the beautiful head of the dog. “Please, sir,” he stammered, 
“please, may I love the dog, and — take care of him, and bathe 
him and comb him and sleep with him?” 
The thought occurred quickly that Prince might prove a leading 
factor in working out the salvation of the boy, among whose many 
traits that excellent one of a love for dumb animals had remained 
undiscovered. When consent was given to all but the sleeping 
part, he dropped upon his knees before the animal and kissed and 
hugged it with all his might. Then taking advantage of the per- 
mission accorded, he ran out with the dog at his heels and both 
were soon enjoying a happy romp in the yard. The two did be- 
come very good friends, and if Prince received most loving care 
and attention and choice tidbits borrowed or stolen, he uncon- 
sciously did his part by influencing the boy to better physical care 
of his own person. In caring for the dog, the untidy child also 
acquired the desire to wash himself, and after he combed the dog’s 
shaggy mane, he would smooth his own locks. 
The first thing given the boy was a physical overhauling, and 
it was found that there were a number of defects that had to be 
righted. In fact, his poor anatomy was affected with many ills. 
A spinal curvature had existed for years, a partly deformed hand 
needed attention, teeth, tonsils and adenoids, and what not? He 
was informed that he was to be taken to the hospital for the 
tonsillotomy operation, and took the news cheerfully. While 
preparations were being made for his admission, he was kept home 
from school and seemed to be enjoying life immensely with the 
companionship of Prince. 
A few days after his tonsils and adenoids had been removed, he 
displayed a strange reluctance to go home. This was at once INTRACTABLES 
379 
unusual and peculiar, as the average child regarded the hospital 
with dread and was very glad to come home, especially after an 
operation. He begged to remain and suggested that there were 
other operations that might be performed upon him, pleading that 
he was not afraid of pain or suffering and wanted all the operations 
due him. He even appealed to his physician to find some cause for 
an operation, or failing that, help him to locate some disease which 
should necessitate his remaining at the hospital. 
He returned to the Home dispirited and unhappy; even Prince 
could not rouse him from the gloom that enveloped him. He ate 
the special food and dainties given him, appeared physically well, 
but seemed to be obsessed by an intense desire for the hospital. 
The first day he was permitted to join the children, he appeared 
suddenly before the Home nurse with a splinter at least two inches 
long dug into his hand. She removed it, bathed and cared for the 
hand and dismissed him, telling him it would be all right. “Then 
don’t I go to the hospital now?” he asked in disappointment. This 
suggested that the splinter came into the hand by design not ac- 
cident. Taken to task, he cheerfully admitted that he had put the 
splinter into his hand so that he might get blood-poisoning and 
stay in the hospital a long time. 
His strange infatuation for the hospital was regarded as a 
peculiar and distinct phase of his character which needed further 
study, and as far as he was personally concerned, the matter was 
lightly disposed of and no more referred to. Every attempt was 
now concentrated upon him, literally to compel him to lead a nor- 
mal life, with the normal duties and pleasures allotted to the chil- 
dren. He took kindly indeed to all pastimes, outings, parties, and 
enjoyments, but balked at the suggestion of any duty assigned 
him. 
At school, he was placed in a much lower grade than his age 
demanded; he was found so badly retarded that a special course 
of private tutoring was arranged for him, that he might keep up 
with the work of his grade. Under close observation and constant 
encouragement, he made an effort to apply himself to his studies, 
progressing with surprising success. He was promoted to a higher 
grade and that seemed to have an excellent effect upon him in 
encouraging him to increased endeavor. 
Suddenly when all was running quite smoothly and he seemed 
on a fair road to general improvement, his teacher sent a note of 
complaint. She had sent several with him previously which he 
had destroyed, but this time she took the precaution of sending a 
duplicate note with a classmate of his. The boy easily confessed 380 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
that he had burned the notes and said that he was so unhappy he 
did not care what was done with him. Inasmuch as his melan- 
cholia had seemingly departed from him, the evidence of its return 
was disheartening. 
He appeared to have a secret, and upon being pressed to divulge 
it and promised that it would not be betrayed, he opened his heart, 
and while heavy teardrops fell, he unburdened his soul of its great 
sorrow, very real and genuine to him — he had loved and lost! 
He and a small girl in his class had been in love with each other 
and had agreed to get married when he should be sixteen and she 
fourteen; but suddenly a rival had appeared on the scene in the 
person of a larger and handsomer boy, and the fair lady had for- 
gotten her vows and had snubbed him for a week. He then felt 
that life had no further attractions for him and sought advice on 
the easiest and best way of committing suicide. 
An attempt was made to comfort him with the assurance that 
the world contained many maids, the equal of the perfidious 
charmer, and if he continued to make progress at school and was 
promoted regularly, some other maid, possessing even greater 
beauty than his fickle friend, might be attracted to him; not only 
that, but the first maid would regret her unwise action, and might 
be very willing to associate with him again. Further, the hope 
was held out tantalizingly, that when the fair one came visiting 
the institution on a Sunday, as she frequently did, the Superin- 
tendent would take her in to a conference and manage to show her 
what an estimable and promising young man she was discouraging 
for someone not quite so worthy. That was to be done, however, 
only if the young man gave a solemn promise to put all thoughts 
of suicide out of his head and make a decided effort to make him- 
self really worthy; otherwise, how could the Superintendent truth- 
fully plead his worthiness? He saw the point and acquiesced 
rather cheerfully. 
He applied himself to his school-work with excellent results. 
Unfortunately the tempress again assailed him with her wiles and 
without any assistance from any superintendents. She had a 
quarrel with the boy she had preferred and, to spite him, turned 
her favor again upon the unhappy “ problem.” He fell desperately, 
but all would have been well, had not the other boy waylaid him 
on the way to school and given him a sound thrashing right before 
the very eyes of the fair one, in addition, calling him such dreadful 
names as “cripple,” “fool,” and “jackass,” to show his contempt. 
The boy brooded over this insult all morning, and at recess, when 
the teacher and pupils were out of the room, he attempted to hang INTRACTABLES 
381 
himself with his scarf by fastening one end to the gas-jet, and 
making a noose of the other end, which he placed about his neck. 
How long he hung suspended in the air, no one knew; but when 
the children came in from their recess, he was already blue in the 
face and exhibiting signs of strangulation. Their loud outcries 
brought the teachers and the principal running, and the latter, 
with the presence of mind for which she was renowned, promptly 
cut the noose, releasing the boy, and then applied first aid. He 
regained consciousness quickly and his first words regretted that 
he was not dead, and that he had been compelled to break his 
promise and think about suicide. He told the principal that he 
had felt that it was no use to continue living, since the girl would 
not want to marry him now, and he could n’t possibly return the 
other boy’s beating as he was not large or strong enough. 
The matter was treated very tactfully at school for the benefit 
of the other children; the principal had word passed around that 
the boy had intended playing a joke upon his classmates with the 
intention of scaring them, and had nearly met with an accident. 
He was again taken into the office and, after a confidential talk, 
promised that if ever again the desire for suicide occurred strongly 
to him, he would first communicate his intentions to the Super- 
intendent. (This promise he kept inviolate for a long time.) 
It had been decided to put his back in a brace for the possible 
relief of the curvature, during the summer vacation, but the pres- 
ent time seemed more expedient for the purpose. He was quite 
reconciled to his lot, and found great comfort in the hope he enter- 
tained that, when his back was straightened, he would be quite a 
handsome and strong boy. 
To his dismay, he stayed but two days at the hospital. Still, 
in that short time, he succeeded in reaping a harvest of sympathy, 
condolence, and general petting. He was in and out of the wards, 
talking to the patients and offering to do their errands. It was a 
difficult matter to keep him away from the hospital now. After 
an interview with the head nurse, who had been taken into the 
history of the case, the reason for the boy’s strange fancy was 
quite apparent. The nurses, one and all, regarded him with sym- 
pathy, which they showed by caresses, endearments, and small 
kindlinesses. He was extremely fond of one pretty young nurse 
whose hand he specially liked to hold, and it was while holding 
her hand and fondling it, that most of the painful surgical work 
had been performed on him. The good-natured young woman, 
anxious to alleviate the pain of the child, whom she regarded with 
pity and sympathy as an orphan, friendless and unhappy, gladly 382 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
consented to grant him the pleasure of holding her hand. Sub- 
sequently, on his many visits to the hospital, when he came to her 
with repeated requests for more “hand-holdings,” she deemed his 
desires but innocent eccentricities called forth by his gratitude to 
her, and permitted him to hold and play with her hand for as much 
time as she could spare. 
“I love to hold her hand, it’s so soft and it makes me feel so 
good, I forget all my troubles,” he said, when an explanation was 
required of him. 
Then followed an earnest plea that he be permitted to stay at 
the hospital; he would do anything, wash and scrub floors, run 
errands, carry trays, anything at all so that he might be near his 
friends, the nurses. He added tears to his entreaties, and sat 
there a pitiful, sobbing object of human misery and woe, seemingly 
hopeless. 
“Is your desire to become a doctor so great, that you would do 
all those things in the hospital?” The question was sudden, un- 
expected of course, and most confusing. He reacted to it in the 
manner that had been hoped for and anticipated. In fact, the sug- 
gestion had been prompted by despair, as the last resource with 
which to reach that clouded mind. 
He looked up, astonished and wondering. The thought had 
penetrated the recesses of his brain and held an appeal which he 
grasped readily enough. His eyes became brighter, and his ex- 
pression gradually assumed satisfaction, and a sort of hopeful 
eagerness. 
“Yes, that’s it,” he nodded emphatically, “that’s why I really 
like to stay with the nurses. But how can a poor boy like me ever 
become a doctor? ” 
Good! He had swallowed the bait! 
When he left the office, he carried with him a definite promise 
that if his school-work were satisfactory, he would be permitted 
to attend college and in time study medicine. It was also dis- 
tinctly understood that conduct unbecoming a future doctor was 
to be strictly avoided. 
From that time, it became evident to all who were interested in 
him, that the boy was straining every effort to withstand the habits 
acquired in his short life and learning to apply himself to his school- 
work. The wise principal, cooperating with every means at her 
disposal, observed him closely, ready with encouragement and 
advice. He had informed his fair inamorata that he was going to 
become a great doctor, and had no more time to bother with girls, 
at which the young lady was greatly offended and withdrew her INTRACTABLES 
383 
favor from him entirely. This had an excellent effect and he con- 
fided that he did n’t think girls were good for anything but trouble, 
an opinion in which he was greatly encouraged. He did try studi- 
ously to avoid the entire sex and was no longer a frequenter of 
the girls’ playrooms or lavatories. 
The tonic effect of work was then applied to him. Manual train- 
ing did not appeal to him, nor did any labor that required work by 
hand. He was very anxious to help with the monthly magazine 
issued by the children, but in no department did he qualify success- 
fully, till at his own suggestion, he was permitted to join the Ad- 
vertising Committee, whose business it was to secure the small 
advertisements run in the paper. Here he was on his own ground 
and procured his ads. without apparent difficulty. He was 
scrupulously honest with the money entrusted to him and took 
great pride in the thought that he had been instrumental in help- 
ing the paper to attain the dignity of self-support. 
His graduation from school was a source of satisfaction and 
happiness to him, and he went to bed that night with his diploma 
beside him. Only first he had taken the precaution to affix “Dr.” 
before his name, in large black capitals. He told the other boys 
that he was very anxious to see how that would look, and was so 
satisfied with his name now, that he was going to work like a 
“nigger” till he was a real doctor. He also added, rather gravely, 
that when he was a great doctor, there would be lots of people 
wanting to take him into their families as a friend. 
In addition to the dog, Prince, he was very fond of a pair of 
rabbits he had purchased with some pocket-money given him by 
some friends watching his career with great interest. He planned 
and finally executed the work on a rabbit-hutch, and gave the 
inmates ceaseless care and attention. His spinal curvature neces- 
sitated the wearing of a plaster cast for two years, and though his 
movements in and out of the hutch were attended with pain and 
no little difficulty, at no time did he neglect his pets. 
As his physique improved, there was a marked change for the 
better in his mental and moral deportment. His melancholic fits 
were less frequent and he no longer mentioned suicide. To all ap- 
pearances, the ambition of becoming a doctor was the beacon light 
beckoning and holding him to the straight and narrow path. He 
paid many visits to the hospital, but they were of a “professional” 
nature, he proudly declared; he either went there for treatment or 
to have the internes show him their “doctor books.” He retained 
most cordial relations with his friends, the nurses, but no longer 
requested to “hold hands.” He would question them about their 384 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
cases and tell them how he would treat certain ailments when he 
became a doctor, to their intense amusement. He continued a 
prime favorite with them and at no time did any further sex im- 
pulses obtrude themselves upon the intimacy. 
As a Boy Scout, the hikes and outdoor sports had most beneficial 
results physically, while the strong moral influence cannot be over- 
estimated. There were no further abnormal outbreaks and his 
future development was watched with great confidence. 
At the beginning of his high-school course, the Superintendent 
was called to another city, and the boy’s sorrow was heartrending. 
The promise made him of a university training still held good, but 
he seemed to have lost his ambition. He demanded to be taken 
to the other city; but that was not quite possible, and finally he 
came with the request that he be permitted to go to work and sup- 
port himself. He felt that he had been an object of charity long 
enough and was eager to maintain himself and supply his own 
educational opportunities. 
Under the circumstances, it was deemed best to grant his wishes 
and employment was given him. He worked steadily and faith- 
fully, paying a small sum weekly to the Home for his maintenance. 
It was understood that, when he should be the possessor of a small 
capital, a private boarding home would be found for him, and he 
could then start life on his own resources. 
The Result 
For a period covering not quite two years, the following reports 
have been received of the boy: 
“In the latter part of June, 1920, the boy visited the Children’s 
Bureau Office, very dejected, and said that he had tried to commit 
suicide by jumping off one of the fire-escapes at the Home, because 
one of the boys had reprimanded him for trying to borrow money. 
However, the report obtained at the Home gave a different ver- 
sion. It was said that the boy had deliberately walked up the fire- 
escape and looked into the girls’ dormitory, thereby causing a 
good deal of excitement. 
“He was transferred to a private home, but that home was found 
undesirable for him, and he was placed in another home where the 
boarding mother took an interest in him. He remained in this 
home only one month, asking to be transferred to the boarding 
home of one of his chums. Since the latter home was a good one, 
his request was granted. However, in about five or six weeks’ INTRACTABLES 
385 
time, the boarding mother complained that he had visited a sum- 
mer park and spent three dollars on the ‘paddles.’ 
“In the latter part of September, he entered the merchant 
marine. He returned to the city a week later and went to live 
at his former boarding home. He secured another job and his em- 
ployer said his work was satisfactory. 
“A few weeks later, he became acquainted with the woman who 
had known him as a baby, and as she and her husband expressed 
a desire to be helpful to him, he was placed with them. In Febru- 
ary, 1921, this boarding mother complained of his behavior. She 
said the boy squandered his money, was disobedient and stayed 
out till eleven or twelve o’clock at night. He resented her ‘in- 
terference ’ when she questioned him as to where he spent his time. 
He would not eat at home. His employers were personally in- 
terested in him. 
“In June, 1921, he again entered the merchant marine. About 
six weeks later, he returned and again went to live with his last 
boarding mother. In September, she reported that she could no 
longer keep him. She said he would not work, associated with 
boys of the worst type, and once when the family was out of town, 
he had called in some disreputable boys and girls, who took up 
the carpets and spent the evening dancing. 
“The following month, the boy was sent away from the home. 
He said that he had been compelled to leave, because he did not 
pay board. The woman told a different story. She said he had 
been expelled because, in the middle of the night, both her husband 
and herself had been aroused by their daughter’s screams, and 
upon investigation, found that the boy had entered the girl’s room. 
The boy explained that he must have been walking in his sleep, as 
he could n’t understand how he got there otherwise. 
“After this, he went to live at one of his former boarding homes. 
Efforts were made to place him in the Boys’ Home, but he refused 
to go there. He would not cooperate and for a time no satisfactory 
arrangements could be made for him. His new boarding mother 
complained that he gambled and borrowed money constantly.” 
Meanwhile, to the other city came almost weekly a pitifully 
worded letter, in which he pleaded to be permitted to come and be 
given a chance to be near his old friend. But he belonged to an- 
other city, which was caring for its own dependent problems, and 
the matter could not be satisfactorily adjusted. Let his own letter 
speak for him: 386 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
January 19, 1923. 
Dear Friend: 
Please excuse me for not writing sooner, but I guess it is just 
as you said, I am too lazy. 
I am still working at H although I have tried to get a better 
job. I am all right, so are all the other boys of the Home, and I 
hope you and all the members of your large family, are the same. 
I have been waiting to hear something from you in regard to 
going to B to live with you. At present I am living at Mrs. 
S ’s, but ever since you have been in B , I have never felt the 
same. I just feel as if I could run away and try to stow away on a 
ship that was headed for B . I just feel so lonesome and blue, 
and although I know the Children’s Bureau is trying their utmost 
to help me, still I know I would be a lot better off if I were with 
you. Somehow or other, I would do things that you tell me that 
I would not do for the Children’s Bureau. In other words, I would 
sooner take your advice than that of the Children’s Bureau. I 
know they are still my guardians, but I cannot feel that they are 
the real friends that you have been to me. Because I know myself 
you have done more for me than anyone else, although the Chil- 
dren’s Bureau has helped me a great deal. Still, they cannot take 
your place, because I just feel that way. I cannot go to them for 
help and advice as I used to go to you, and I know you always were 
ready to help me, personally or otherwise. 
Please, dear friend, see if you cannot do something to get me away 
from P . Ever since I had the trouble at J , they have been 
hounding me and I cannot do anything without them knowing it. 
I am getting sick and tired of it and I just want to end it all, and 
that is what I will do, if they won’t leave me alone. 
Please give my regards to and all the rest of the people of 
the Home. 
Hoping I meet with a favorable answer in the near future, I am, 
Your former ward, 
Edward P . 
Poor puppet of a strange destiny! He will stand or fall as the 
pilot of his environment guides or destroys him! CASE B 
JOSEPH K , “CHINKY’ 
Entered October 15,1917. Age 11 years 
The Problem 
1. Delinquency 
(a) Shrewd and clever pilfering from stores and individuals, 
to such an extent that he came to be regarded and feared 
as a menace in the neighborhood. 
(b) Bold, cunning, and audacious in his schemes to defraud 
and rob. 
(c) Leader of a gang, composed of boys older and younger 
than himself, whom he led into all sorts of depredations 
and mischief in different sections of the city. 
(id) Perverted sex-tendencies. Instigated the members of his 
gang to violate small girls. 
(e) Incorrigible liar, and given to the use of profane and ob- 
scene language. 
2. The School 
(a) Obstinate and continued truancy. 
(b) Had a school attendance of less than six months to his 
credit since his kindergarten period. 
(c) Defiant, disobedient, and always in readiness to “fight” 
any teacher, school-attendance officer, or any authority, 
who ventured to reprove or remonstrate with him. 
(id) Induced the children in his classroom of the moment to 
rebel, and mock at the teacher. Influenced the bolder 
spirits to join his gang. 
(e) Enjoyed caricaturing the teacher and throwing spit-balls, 
which “sport” he then calmly attributed to the instiga- 
tion of some timid youngster, who frequently would be 
punished for his misdeeds. 
3. Home 
(a) Unmanageable and given to violent temper tantrums. 
(b) Stealing from parents, and pawning any articles of value 
they possessed. 
(c) Stayed out in the streets till all hours of the night. Slept 
at home only when it suited his purposes. 
(d) If punished by parents, would retort with vile language 
and any missile that came readily to his hand. 
387 388 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
4. Society 
(а) Recognized neither law nor order, and followed the mood 
of the moment, regardless of consequences. 
(б) Influenced the members of his gang to prey upon the 
various neighborhoods, and revenged himself upon any 
citizen who complained to the police, by ruthless thefts, 
window-smashing, maltreating his children, and most abu- 
sive language. 
(c) Arrested three times for larceny and disorderly conduct. 
(d) Juvenile Court Record: 
2-18-16. Charged with acting in a disorderly manner in 
a moving-picture parlor. Placed in care of Miss R 
for three months. 
7- Feloniously entering dwelling-house and steal- 
ing therefrom two gold tooth-bridges valued at $23. 
Placed in care of Miss R for twelve months. 
8- Minor without proper care. Sent to Reforma- 
tory pending further hearing on September 11. 9-11-17. 
Continued to October 12. 10-15-17. Committed to the 
Orphanage. 
4-23-20. Larceny of $2. Postponed to April 28, then to 
May 20, then to November 20, when it was dismissed. 
1. Physical 
(а) Small in stature, but sturdy and stocky in build. 
(б) Sparse brown hair, thinly covering his large, square head, 
and growing low upon an unusually broad forehead. 
(c) Face attracting attention by reason of a Mongolian cast 
of features in a fair, freckled skin. A peculiar character- 
istic was the quick closing of the white lids over the small, 
gleaming, oblique eyes, giving an expression of innocent 
guilelessness to the face. 
(d) Constant wrinkling of the forehead had produced four 
pronounced wrinkles, which stood out conspicuously upon 
the low brow, producing an effect of maturity strangely 
at variance with the youthful facial contours. 
(e) Body almost entirely scarred, and bearing dark bruises 
from blows of past and recent origin. 
(/) Nails badly broken. Teeth neglected and decaying. 
The Analysis INTRACTABLES 
389 
2. Mental 
(a) Examination — Psychiatrist’s Report: 
Intelligence: Normal. I. C. 1.00. 
Character: Good basis. Poor organization. 
Health: Essentially normal. 
Impression: In view of boy’s record of delinquency, 
would recommend that he be sent to the Reformatory. 
(b) Personality Traits: 
In demeanor, quiet and unassuming, presenting an ap- 
pearance of docility and meekness. 
Able to change his expression to suit the need of the 
occasion, and pitch the cadences of his voice correspond- 
ingly. 
Careless about his person, and though he displayed a 
marked taste for flashy combinations in clothes, extremely 
untidy and uninterested in the garments he wore, even 
when he had himself selected them. 
Very keen in perception, crafty and exceedingly clever 
in sizing up the personalities of either friend or opponent. 
Uncannily shrewd in the selection of his tools and ac- 
complices. 
Indolent and pleasure-loving. 
Hearty eater, fond of good food, and constantly craving 
sweets. 
Showed no desire for affection, and was callous to friend 
and foe alike. 
Animals appealed to him only when frantically trying to 
dislodge the various articles he had succeeded in tying to 
their tails. 
3. Social 
(a) Heredity: 
Father: was an illiterate, incompetent tailor, whose 
meagre earnings at the shops which employed unskilled 
labor were insufficient to support his family, and the 
Benevolent Society supplemented his unsteady income. 
He had been married twice, the boy being the offspring 
of the second marriage. His first wife had been a normal, 
hard-working woman, who, during her lifetime, had owned 
and operated a grocery store, securing a livelihood for her 
husband, herself, and three children — a son and two 
daughters. After her death, the man was unable to make 
the store pay, though he worked untiringly; and he soon 
returned to his trade of tailoring, with very poor success. 390 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
The three children left their father’s home on the advent 
of a stepmother, and being nearly grown, supported them- 
selves. The daughters are employed in the tailoring trades 
and the son is a plumber. The three are steady, respect- 
able and ambitious young people, maintaining themselves. 
While the man had no known bad habits or associa- 
tions, it was reported that he had greatly deteriorated 
since the death of his first wife. He had become quarrel- 
some and unreliable, and his second marriage was at- 
tended with constant friction and unhappiness. His 
children by the first marriage avoided him, and rarely 
visited his home. 
Mother: at a very early age was seduced by some un- 
known man; and later, her career was such, that she was 
committed to a House of Refuge. She was physically 
attractive, apparently of normal mentality, and after 
leaving the asylum to which she had been committed, she 
married a young workman of good antecedents and habits, 
with whom she is known to have lived unhappily. She 
was divorced from him, shortly after the birth of her two 
daughters. 
The girls were quite young when the mother remarried. 
Both were “problems” during their adolescence, refusing 
to attend school regularly, stayed out till late at night, 
and frequented the dance-halls. The older girl was com- 
mitted to a girls’ reformatory shortly after passing her 
sixteenth birthday, and her sister followed in her footsteps 
soon after. 
The woman bore her second husband one daughter and 
two sons. She claimed to be devoted to her children, and 
insisted that her neighbors’ stories of her infidelity to her 
husband, and gross neglect of the children, were but idle, 
scandalous gossip, dictated by malice and envy. She 
complained bitterly of the poverty of her husband, de- 
claring that he had married her under false pretenses; 
according to her statement, he had beguiled her into mar- 
riage by tales of a flourishing grocery business which 
yielded a large income per annum, and the claim that he 
was the landlord of a row of tenement houses. She de- 
plored her lot in life as the wife of a poor man, as unsuited 
to the attractions she possessed; and constant recrimina- 
tions between her and her husband were productive of 
violent quarrels and brawls, in which the neighbors claimed INTRACTABLES 
391 
they were frequently compelled to interfere to prevent 
bloodshed. 
She was a frequenter of the moving-picture houses and 
ice-cream parlors in her neighborhood, and still possessed 
an inordinate fondness for dances and what she termed 
“good times.” An aged mother, an inmate of a Home for 
the Aged and Infirm, maintained by charity, was her only 
known relative. There were rumors that two of her 
brothers were serving terms in the penitentiary, but that 
story was never fully substantiated. 
Siblings: Oldest sister, apparently normal, was quite 
attractive physically, and became a clerk in a department 
store after her graduation from the public school at the 
age of fifteen. She had not presented any difficulties at 
any period in her life. Her associates and neighbors es- 
teemed and liked her. At eighteen, she was married to a 
respectable, industrious young man, and their home life 
appears happy. 
Older brother, was known as a truant and wanderer when 
barely eight years old. The parents complained that he 
was unruly, disobedient, and given to temper tantrums. 
As he grew older, he bunked out for days and nights at a 
time. 
The Children’s Bureau had sent him to an Institution 
for Dependent Children, from which he ran away five 
times, till the Superintendent of the Home, finding his 
patience exhausted, petitioned that he be relieved of the 
custody of the youthful incorrigible. 
He was then kept at home under probation, with very 
unsatisfactory results. He became a member of a gang, 
and finally was brought into the Juvenile Court for steal- 
ing. Sentenced to the Reformatory, he was taught a trade 
in that institution; but after his release, relapsed into his 
previous delinquencies, and after many adventures, was 
again committed to the Reformatory. 
(b) Developmental: 
The mother, in discussing his early childhood, frankly 
stated that she regretted that her efforts to prevent his 
birth had failed, and added, that he had been so ill and 
puny an infant, that she could n’t understand how he 
survived. 
Without a shadow of doubt, he had been left to his own 
devices as soon as he could toddle; and when the dissen- 392 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
sion and unhappiness in his home caused him to seek out- 
side attractions, he naturally took to the streets. Here, 
unfortunately for him, he soon learned of the house, or 
rather den, near his home, of a master criminal, known 
as the Lobster, who specialized in training children for 
careers of crime. 
He became attached to the place, made attractive and 
interesting to the boys and girls who frequented it through 
the cunning artifices of a master who knew the psychology 
of the neglected child only too well; and soon he was a 
member of his brother’s gang, and receiving lessons in 
juvenile misdemeanors. His progress was so satisfying to 
his master, who had recognized his leadership abilities, 
that he was “promoted,” and encouraged to form a 
gang of his own, from the Lobster’s youthful recruits. 
His brother, already sowing wild oats plentifully, was, 
as an example and influence, an added source of evil to his 
development. As time progressed, he became more adept 
and cunning in the adventures and misdeeds that ulti- 
mately brought him to the Juvenile Court. 
Also, thrown into the company of girls whom the human 
fiend, their master, taught early to disregard their chastity, 
he naturally developed precocious sex-knowledge, with the 
resultant perverted tendencies. 
(c) Habits and Interests: 
Would tactfully size up a prospective “friend,” ingra- 
tiate himself into the latter’s good graces, and then would 
spend time and thought in subjugating the weaker will to 
his, and compelling it to do his bidding. 
A consummate hypocrite, he was able to feign interest 
in some play or sport which in no way appealed to him, 
while at the same time he was planning or scheming some 
mischief. Later, when involved in the difficulty he had 
designed and perfected, he was able to assume a wrinkled 
brow and a woebegone expression of injured innocence, 
while he sadly lamented: “Just because I was a bad un 
once, ain’t no reason why I should be bad all the time.” 
And always he could point triumphantly to the fact that 
while the wrongdoing was being committed, he was vir- 
tuously engaged in some legitimate pursuit. 
Had a good imagination, and enjoyed telling of his 
thrilling adventures with the police, in which, of course, 
he was always the “hero.” INTRACTABLES 
393 
Able at a moment’s notice to devise plausible stories 
regarding his whereabouts, if found to be missing. 
Not attracted by the boys’ games or sports, or by the 
Boy Scout organization, which immensely interested the 
average adventurous spirit, but aroused his ridicule and 
dislike. 
Very fond of money. Clever in devising ways and means 
of obtaining funds, which he spent solely for his own pleas- 
ure and amusement. 
(d) Home Conditions: 
While his home had always been fairly furnished and 
kept clean, it was located in a neighborhood where were 
many denizens of the underworld, with whom even in 
early childhood he spent more time than with his parents. 
The latter, living together in unhappiness and poverty, 
either could not or would not realize how their hatred and 
bitterness were alienating the boy from his home, and 
sending him to the streets to seek the companionship 
they did not give him. 
With none at home whose advice he respected, or whose 
commands he obeyed, his sister’s normality having no 
direct bearing upon him, there was no home influence 
potent enough to keep him from the abyss of delinquency 
toward which he was drifting. Beyond a place to eat and 
sleep when it suited his convenience, home had no other 
meaning to him. 
There had been a grievous lack of wholesomeness and 
sanity in his environment, and when he plunged greedily 
into the excitement and adventure held out alluringly by 
the Lobster, there was no counteracting attraction at 
home to assist and save him. 
(e) Mental Interests: 
Scheming mischief. 
Shooting craps or playing cards. 
The Treatment 
Late one evening, when the younger children had been sound 
asleep in their beds for at least two hours, and the older ones, 
yawning over the heavy tasks of home-work, were preparing to 
retire to their well-deserved rest, a timid, though insistent knock 
at the office door rather startled the members of the Finance Com- 
mittee, engrossed in the ever-weighty problem of dollars and cents. 394 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
In answer to the summons to enter, the door was opened slowly 
and reluctantly but a narrow space, through which peered one 
eye and part of the features belonging to the trustiest of the moni- 
tors. “Sorry to bother you, sir,” said a voice apologetically, “but 
a funny-looking guy out here won’t clear out — wants to see you, 
he says.” 
“I gotta see yer right now, mister,” announced another voice 
in determined accents; and as the monitor turned around in angry 
impatience, thereby forcing the door open wider, a small figure 
deliberately pushed its way directly in front of him. 
“What’s the matter with you?” said the older boy, frowning, 
his face mirroring his utter disgust with the small lad’s persistence. 
“Can’t you wait for permission?” 
The youngster made no answer to him, but, instead, walked over 
to the assembled group without hesitation, and staring unflinch- 
ingly at the men who were regarding him with undisguised interest, 
coolly put a question. “I wanter speak to the Super’tender,” he 
declared. “Who’s the Super’tender?” 
“Won’t any one else do?” mischievously asked one of the mem- 
bers of the Committee. 
“Not ’n your tintype,” was the amazing reply, with a vigorous 
shake of the head. “I wanter see the boss — the Super’tender,” 
he insisted. 
“Well, little man, what can I do for you?” asked the official 
he wanted, fearing further outbreaks upon ears not accustomed to 
them. 
The boy’s slanting eyes eagerly observed the speaker, but his 
face remained passive. “Them told me,” he ejaculated, contemptu- 
ously motioning with his thumb over his shoulder to imaginary 
persons, “that they gonna bring me here to-morror, so I sez to that 
geezer who tooked me over there,” again that eloquent thumb 
movement, “that I ain’t no slob, an’ I kin go myself. An’ that 
geezer sez he’s gonna put chains on my feet if I run away, so I sez 
to him,‘ Betcha sweet life, I gonna get there if I wanter go, sooner’s 
yer kin get chains.’ — So here I come an’ I wanter stay here.” 
“ Whom are you alluding to, boy? ” questioned one of the gentle- 
men, uneasily eyeing the audacious, small figure in its ill-fitting, 
bedraggled garments and torn boots. 
“Huh?” questioned the boy, wrinkling his brows, his eyes nar- 
rowing to slits. “ I kin’t speak nuthin’ only English,” he explained. 
“Then tell us in English whom you mean by ‘geezer’?” politely 
requested the gentleman. 
“Aw, is that what yer wanter know?” asked the youngster, INTRACTABLES 
395 
enlightened; “why did n’t yer sez so? That means the gink that 
tooked me over there onct before, an’ I don’ like him,” he ex- 
pounded. “ Yer ’stan’ me now?” 
“‘Over there,’ means what place?” demanded another member 
of the Committee, a shrewd, careful business man. 
The boy faced this new questioner, collected and suave. “ That’s 
the place yer call what yer send the bad boys to.” Then he added 
hastily, “ But I ain’t a bad boy—them put me in there fer nuthin’.” 
“A likely story,” snorted his first interrogator. 
“It ain’t no story,” insisted the boy with vehemence. “It’s 
’onest to God, true. I ain’t never done nuthin’ wrong. Them 
chust could n’t find the bad boy, so I get in Dutch luck and they 
pick on me. I ain’t never swiped nuthin’, an’ I ain’t never gonna 
swipe nuthin’,” he ended virtuously, his face doleful and sad. 
“Methinks the lady doth protest too much,” quoted another 
member in undertones, immensely amused. 
The sharp ears caught the sentence, without comprehending its 
import. 
“I ain’t no lady,” he asserted indignantly, “an’ I never wanter 
be a lady—I don’ like ladies ’cause they poke ’round yer business, 
an’ git yer inter lots of trouble. I am Joseph K , an’ that 
geezer — that gink I mean — don’ havter bring me to-morror, 
’cause I kin walk by myself, an’ I just wanter show ’im that I don’ 
havter be fetched.” 
“You might have waited till to-morrow, instead of coming 
ahead of your time,” said another member. 
“Donchersee I wanter git here before that gink comes fer me 
to-morror, I don’ know how early?” impatiently asked the boy. 
“Praiseworthy anxiety!” remarked the gentleman. 
“Aw, shucks!” exclaimed the youngster, turning away from 
them. “Ain’t no use speaking to yous, that’s why I want the 
boss.” He gave his attention to the Superintendent. “Gonna 
give me a bed, or do yer want me to sleep on chairs, or the floor?” 
he questioned. 
While a telephone communication was being held with the pro- 
bation officer who was to have brought Joseph K to the in- 
stitution in the morning, the boy entertained the members of the 
Finance Committee with accounts more colorful and illuminating 
than any dry, inanimate figures could produce. Had it then de- 
pended upon the opinion expressed by the majority of the gentle- 
men present regarding the future home of Joseph K , that 
youthful individual would have been packed off to the hospitality 
of “Over There” without further ado; but a week previous/ the 396 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
Children’s Bureau had decided that, in view of the boy’s youth, 
it might not be amiss to grant him a last chance in the Orphanage. 
Hence, he was formally installed that night as an inmate of the 
Home, under the charge of an experienced supervisor, assisted by 
a very capable and willing monitor. 
Hardly had a day passed, when the latter presented himself at 
the office, a worried look about his eyes, and stated briefly that 
in his opinion, “Chinky is some lively young one, believe me.” 
“Why the name Chinky?” 
The monitor shrugged his shoulders helplessly. “The kids gave 
him that name as soon as they saw him,” he replied with apparent 
unwillingness to betray any secrets; “perhaps because his eyes 
look like a Chinaman’s,” he added quickly. 
“Has he done anything wrong?” 
The boy shook his head negatively. “Not yet,” he remarked; 
“but it sure is funny how he made friends with all our bad eggs 
right away, and — he gave a nickel to Janey Banks, because she 
let him pull her curls.” 
Later followed an interview with Chinky. 
“Well, Joe, making any friends here?” he was asked. 
“Sure thing,” he responded with enthusiasm. 
“Who are they?” 
“Some fine guys,” he said, rattling off the names of a few of the 
most troublesome “problems.” 
“Did you know them before you came here?” 
“Only one or two of ’em,” he replied carelessly. “But I never 
was bad like ’em,” he hastened to put in. 
“However they are doing very well now, and it is expected that 
you will follow their example,” he was told. 
“But I ain’t never been bad,” he insisted, the innocence of his 
expression bearing out his lie. 
“Suppose we try to forget what’s past, and think only of the 
future. Do you think you can manage to keep out of trouble, and 
learn to do what is right?” he was asked. 
His quick, affirmative nod was most emphatic. “Sure,” he 
replied brightly, “yer kin just watch me.” 
He was watched, more intently and carefully than he realized. 
It was soon noted that he masturbated, had abominable per- 
sonal habits, and possessed a font of worldly knowledge that was 
appalling in a child. He swore, he lied, and was always prepared 
with a plausible excuse for his ill-humors and misdeeds. For some 
time there was no theft or alarming misdemeanor that could be put 
to his score; his petty delinquencies were no worse than were often INTRACTABLES 
397 
met with in dealing with a less daring and problematic character. 
It seemed that he was attracted by his new environment, and per- 
mitting himself to become interested in activities which appealed 
to him. 
The special talks on sex-hygiene given him privately in the 
office were rather productive of good results for a while, and it was 
observed that he made some effort at cleanliness. At this period, 
he insisted that he wanted to have nothing to do with his family, 
and frequently hid himself when any of his relatives called to see 
him. He never offered any reasonable explanation for his conduct, 
which, however, caused his parents but little concern. 
At school, he was found to be badly retarded; but extra coach- 
ing and individual attention given him in the special class, which 
the cooperative principal had established for him and others of 
his type, enabled his bright mind to develop rapidly. Within six 
months, his English had improved to an appreciable extent. Now 
and then, he had attacks of truancy, when he played “hookey” 
for a day or two, but such offenses being regarded as minor ones, 
they were condoned. 
Suddenly, while he was supposedly walking in the path of 
righteousness, it was discovered that, in reality, he was both the 
instigator of and the leader in the petty thefts and other flagrant 
delinquencies that frequently cropped out from the crowd of 
“problems.” Taken to task, he had a plausible alibi for every 
wrongdoing traced to his door, and swore to his absolute innocence 
with heartrending tears and protestations. 
Shortly thereafter, the night watchman reported that, quite early 
that morning, immediately after he had made his rounds, he heard 
a loud and unusual whistle in the yard. After the shrill call had 
been repeated three times, it was followed by a small, dark figure 
running rapidly from the house and climbing over the fence, “just 
like lightnin’,” as he expressed it. A hasty survey of the boys’ 
dormitories discovered none of the inmates missing. Tactful in- 
quiries elicited no pertinent information. 
The watchman was carefully instructed to listen again for the 
whistle, and note carefully all possible details in reference to the 
flying figure. He reported at the end of that week that, though he 
had heard the whistle at least three times on as many different 
dawns, and had observed closely the ready response made by the 
small figure of a boy, he was alike unable to discover the author 
of the one, or detect the identity of the other. It was considered 
advisable to take into confidence the officer on the beat, who, 
after listening to the testimony submitted by the watchman, 398 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
agreed to give his assistance. For several weeks there were no 
new developments, and finally the officer, who too had heard the 
whistle and seen the figure several times, asserted that he had the 
suspicion that both he and the watchman were being watched. 
After manoeuvring a trap for the whistler for several weeks, 
the officer was finally successful. It was scarcely five-thirty one 
morning, when the telephone rang insistently. “ Come right over 
to the station, and you’ll see something,” came the hasty sum- 
mons. 
In short order, the station was reached. There, grouped before 
the sergeant’s desk, were two officers at each end of the line which 
was formed by four boys, three between the ages of twelve and 
fourteen years, who were strangers, and a fourth who was no 
stranger. The smallest and youngest was none other than Chinky. 
He had studied his lessons rather industriously the night before, 
and there had been nothing in his conduct or manner to indicate 
anything unusual when he had retired with the other boys of his 
age. In fact, for some time, he had appeared as tending toward 
normality. 
With the motley company, at that early hour, were two Italians, 
who volubly tried to explain in broken English that their bunches 
of bananas had been repeatedly stolen from them, almost as soon 
as they had purchased them at the wharf, and that they had never 
been able to discover the thieves who had brought ruin to them 
and to their families. 
Chinky stood there, his brow wrinkled in pained surprise that 
he should be involved in such an accusation; while the boys eyed 
him furtively, and plainly showed in their blanched and frightened 
faces their confusion in their predicament, he appeared unworried 
and unafraid. 
“Who are these boys?” was the first question put to him. 
He turned slowly to each one of his companions in turn, peered 
intently into his face, as if observing him for the first time, and 
then slowly but clearly stated, “Never seen them before.” 
It was amusing to note the varying expressions of shocked 
amazement passing over the faces of the officers and the Italians 
at the bald and daring lie. As for the three boys, their faces fell 
into passive lines, as the untruth gave them their cue. 
“How did you come to be in their company?” 
The calmness of his face remained undisturbed as he answered 
without hesitation, “I was up so early this morning, I thought I 
would take a walk to the wharf just for fun, and come home in 
time for breakfast; but I seen them stealing the bananas, and while INTRACTABLES 
399 
I was just looking on, the cops got hold of me. But I did n’t do 
nothin’ — you can ask them.” 
“That’s right, mister, he ain’t done nothin’,” piped in the oldest 
of the trio; and the other two shook their heads in agreement. 
“You young rascal!” burst out one of the officers hotly, “did n’t 
I see you with my own eyes nosing around the fence, and did n’t 
you whistle for him?” 
The boy, taken unawares, hung his head and found no ready 
answer. Not so Chinky. He pertly lifted his head, and looking 
straight at the officer, asked innocently enough, “Per’aps it was 
the milkman — he comes early every day — ain’t it so?” 
The officer stared at the youngster and dropped weakly into a 
chair, smothering an oath. 
“Now Joseph K , you are not going to get away with any 
lies. Who are these boys?” The question was put sternly to him. 
He sized up his questioner’s face before speaking. Then, 
“Them belong to my gang,” he made answer. 
“Who is the leader of your gang?” 
He looked puzzled for a moment, then asked, “You mean the 
boss?” 
“Yes.” 
A startled glance passed among the four pairs of eyes. 
“I dunno,” he replied. 
“Think again!” he was commanded sternly. “Who is the boss 
of your gang?” 
His mouth closed in a firm line, while the others shuffled their 
feet uneasily. 
“Answer the question,” he was admonished in a severe tone. 
His lips parted, and while he hesitated, the oldest boy blurted 
out, “Aw, we call ’im the Lobster.” 
Chinky’s slanting eyes flamed at him, and the boy turned pale 
and winced. 
“Has he put you up to this?” 
“No, sir,” was Chinky’s immediate reply. 
“Where is he?” 
“I dunno, honest.” He spoke with apparent sincerity. “The 
fellers told me he had to run away.” 
“Where did he run to?” eagerly asked one of the officers. 
“Honest, I don’t know,” he made answer. 
(The assumption made at the time, that the Lobster was a boy, 
permitted him to protect his former master with his clever lies.) 
“Since the Lobster is away, who planned the stealing of the 
bananas?” 400 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
After a long silence, he said reluctantly, “Guess I did.” 
“Aw, yer did not,” broke in the oldest boy again, “the Lobster 
sent me to yer — ” 
“Shut up that lie!” interrupted Chinky. “He wants to get me 
out of trouble,” he added gently, “but it ain’t true. The Lobster 
has run away.” 
The new day having dawned, it was almost entirely spent in 
investigating the records of the three boys, and planning arrange- 
ments to safeguard their future conduct, while Chinky, at the 
Home again, and seated in a corner of the office, was kept in 
suspense regarding his fate. To his monitor, who kept him com- 
pany at odd intervals, he confessed in an unguarded moment, 
“Guess I could get out of trouble all right, but that bloke Snookey 
blabs out all he knows.” 
Subsequently, threatened with expulsion from the Orphanage 
and his return to the Reformatory, Chinky almost lost his com- 
posure and bravado, in his earnest appeals to have “one more 
little bit of a chance.” He had good and sufficient reasons to pre- 
fer the Orphanage to the Reformatory, and his pleas and promises 
were quite enough to enlist the sympathy and support of such 
powerful friends as his supervisor and monitor. 
In the year that followed, he had frequent falls from grace; but 
his progress at school, the keen intelligence he displayed in master- 
ing the details of the work at the various manual-training classes, 
and above all, the cleverness and ready wit of a keen and capable 
mind, were all powerful factors in encouraging hope and patience, 
in the struggle with the boy. It seemed quite reasonable to pre- 
sume that a brain so alert would in time be influenced by the whole- 
some forces brought to bear upon its possessor. 
His perverted sex-tendencies became more marked as he grew 
older. He showed an exceeding fondness for the company of girls; 
and as the older girls would have none of him, he was often to be 
found among the smaller girls, bribing them with odd gifts of 
pennies, marbles, or sweetmeats, to be permitted to stroke their 
hair or their faces or hands. Later, unsatisfied with this pastime, 
in which he was always interrupted and sent away with a repri- 
mand or to the office, he abandoned the pursuit of the girls in the 
Home altogether, and made friends with girls outside, whom he 
would visit at every opportunity that he could get to run off with- 
out observation. 
When little Amy Brown, fair, plump, and easily influenced, was 
admitted to the institution, he transferred his fickle affections all INTRACTABLES 
401 
to her, and speedily it was reported that he was seen too fre- 
quently in Amy’s vicinity. 
Amy, when questioned regarding him, admitted with many 
tears and sobs, “He’s a nice boy and I like him. He gives me lots 
of candy to let him kiss me.” 
After listening to the sharp commands issued to him concerning 
his future conduct with Amy and the other girls, the boy, for the 
first time in his career perhaps, lost control of himself and spoke 
the truth. “I wish I was grown up,” he said, “then I could do 
with the girls what I want.” 
Spoken to quite frankly then, and made cognizant of certain 
dangers in sex-indulgence, he appeared frightened, and remarked 
on the spur of the moment, “Chee, I guess the girls ain’t worth 
all that trouble.” 
About this time, completing almost his third year at the Home, 
and on the eve of his graduation from the Grammar School, the 
identity of the Lobster was discovered, and also the fact that 
through Snookey, the fiendish teacher of evil had kept in frequent 
touch with his former pupil, Chinky. Snookey1 had made several 
appearances at the Juvenile Court and was finally committed to 
the Reformatory. Released on probation, he came again under 
the influence of his master, who introduced him to the leader of a 
gang, who, more mature in years and knowledge than Chinky, 
was an inmate of the underworld, having neither extreme youth, 
nor constant surveillance with which to contend. 
A fortnight after Chinky had been given due warning that the 
very next escapade would land him in the Reformatory, a threat 
which usually served as a deterrent to the average “problem,” he 
was caught burglarizing a store in the neighborhood, with the 
assistance of two accomplices whom he had induced to serve as his 
tools. 
Finding that all his eloquence this time was but wasted energy, 
in desperation, he decided to employ what he undoubtedly must 
have considered a master move that should bring the anticipated 
result. 
“If you send me away from here, I’m not going to the Reform- 
atory. I’ll go home and get my gang,” he threatened. 
“That’s interesting,” he was informed cheerfully. “How will 
you manage to accomplish that?” 
1 It may be of interest to note here that Snookey, a few months ago, was 
indicted for murder in the first degree, and has since been found guilty by a 
jury. In consideration of his extreme youth, his sentence has been commuted 
from death to life-imprisonment. 402 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
“Oh, it’s easy/’ he retorted. “You know the big lawyer, Mr. 
Charles Smith?” 
“Yes.” 
“Then don’t you know that he is the crooks’ lawyer, and when 
you come to him and tell him your troubles, you just bet, he fixes 
it all right for you.” 
“Who gave you all this information?” 
“Snookey,” he replied. “He told me that the Lobster told him 
to go to Mr. Smith any time he got in trouble.” 
“Yet the Lobster could not be kept out of jail by the lawyer; 
did you think of that?” 
“Oh, that’s because the Lobster and the lawyer had a fight 
about someone, and the lawyer wants to get even; but I guess the 
Lobster will make up and get out — you just watch and see,” he 
argued. 
“But how are you going to manage to get Mr. Smith to plead 
for you? ” 
“That’s easy,” he declared, with a care-free toss of his head. 
“My mother — she knows that crook lawyer all right, because she 
went lots of times to him when my brother got in trouble. All you 
got to have is money.” 
“But your mother is a poor woman and has no money, even if 
what you say is true.” 
“O chee!” he exclaimed in surprise, “don’t you know my mom 
got lots of money for the lawyer for my brother? You just watch 
her get money for me too.” 
“Are you so sure that money is going to save you from being 
punished for your sins? ” 
“Oh, sure,” was his instant reply; “the Lobster told me lots 
and lots of times that you can get anything in the world you want 
for money.” 
“Do you think money will be able so to change your bad record 
in court, that the Judge will see only good deeds to your credit?” 
he was asked. 
“Not that way,” he explained slowly; “you see all my mother 
got to do is to get the lawyer to swear that I’m all right; then she 
has to swear that she wants me home, and then I swear that I’m 
going to be a good boy, and the Judge tells me, ‘All right, go home 
and behave yourself.’ ” 
Despite his last card, which he played with more or less skill, 
it was decided at the next Children’s Bureau meeting, that he 
needed the disciplinary measures of the Reformatory, and he was 
transferred to the institution of which he had previously been an 
inmate. INTRACTABLES 
403 
The Result 
From Records in the Benevolent Society: 
“On May 11, 1920, pending the hearing of his trial for larceny, 
Joseph K was transferred from the Orphanage to a disci- 
plinary institution. His parents soon after applied for his release. 
They said they would send him to school, but that he must work 
as newsboy or messenger boy after school hours. 
“February 2,1921, Joseph K was discharged from the Insti- 
tution. He will live at home. Miss R will keep in touch with 
him. 
“December 9, 1921, Joseph K and several other boys were 
brought into court for stealing. Joseph was committed to the 
Reformatory.” CASE C 
BERNARD J^—, “THE PHOTOGRAPHER” 
Entered March 25, 1916. Age 10% years 
The Problem 
1. Delinquency 
(а) Stealing. Clever purse-snatcher and pickpocket. 
(б) Leader of a gang of small boys, to whom he taught pil- 
fering. 
(c) Incorrigible liar. 
(d) Employed vile and obscene language. 
2. The School 
(а) Extreme retardation. 
(б) Obstinate and repeated truancy. 
(c) Defiant and impertinent to teachers, to whom he would 
apply vile epithets, to appear “smart.” 
3. Home 
(a) Stole from parents; mocked and insulted them. 
(b) Abusive to younger children, whom he teased and tor- 
mented. 
(c) Made his home the headquarters for his gang. 
(d) Disobedient and unmanageable. 
4. Society 
(a) Annoyed and stole from the neighbors, whose authority 
he defied. 
(h) At the age of eight, he was so troublesome that his mother 
complained to the Children’s Bureau and besought its aid 
in controlling him. The Bureau induced the Big Brother 
League to become interested in the case, and assign a Big 
Brother to assist and befriend the boy. 
After months of earnest endeavor with his charge, the 
Big Brother rendered the following report: 
First, that his home had been broken into several times 
and robbed, and that, in each instance, the thief had been 
discovered to be none other than the boy, assisted by some 
members of his gang. 
Second, that his pockets had frequently been picked 
clean, and purses belonging to his family and friends had 
been purloined, since his acquaintance with the youngster. 
404 INTRACTABLES 
405 
Third, that the boy had constantly told him of the de- 
light to be derived in “swipin’ things,” and had begged to 
be permitted to be his teacher in that direction. 
Fourth, that the youthful reprobate, finding that the 
Big Brother could not be influenced, turned his attention 
to the latter’s younger brothers, who were of tender age, 
and coaxed them to join his gang, telling them thrilling 
tales of his adventures. 
In conclusion, the Big Brother asked to be relieved of 
his responsibility, and advised no other one to assume it. 
The Big Brother League then advised that the boy be 
committed to an institution for stricter supervision. 
(c) Juvenile Court Record: 
6-19-14. Larceny of $7. Placed on probation to Miss 
R for three months. 
9-23-15. Larceny of 96 cents. Released on payment of 
costs. 
9- Charged with being an incorrigible minor and 
beyond the control of his parents. Committed to the 
Children’s Bureau. 
10- Larceny of 2| pounds of candy valued at one 
dollar. Is somewhat deficient mentally. Has been in 
this country only a short time. Committed to the 
Reformatory. 
The Analysis 
1. Physical 
(а) Slouching, heavy, overgrown body, having unusually large 
and awkward hands and feet. 
(б) Long, narrow head, with distended, large red ears, giving 
an asinine aspect. 
(c) Small, dull eyes set deep below the short, receding fore- 
head, above which a crop of heavy, wiry dark hair stood 
up, porcupine-like. A large nose and thick sensual lips 
completed a most unprepossessing face, which, in addition, 
was usually apathetic and expressionless. 
Swollen and diseased tonsils and adenoids. Enuresis. 
2. Mental 
(a) Examination — From Report of Psychiatric Clinic: 
“Bernard J . Age 10 years. 9-28-15. 
“Patient has been in America only three years. He was 
sent for examination by the Children’s Bureau. He 
has a Juvenile Court Record for stealing. History 406 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
shows that the boy has stolen constantly ever since 
he has been in this country. He says he takes the 
things because he wants them. He seems to have no 
sense of shame and does not hesitate to lie out of any 
situation. Father and mother living; apparently 
feeble-minded. 
“Diagnosis: Constitutionally inferior in ethical sphere. 
Binet-Simon 7 years plus. 
“Patient has never left the Third Grade. 
“Would recommend institutional care.” 
(6) Personality Traits: 
Faltering in speech, slow in action, and seemingly too 
timid to assert himself. 
Slovenly and careless about his person and clothes. 
Fond of the movies and sweetmeats. His conception of 
Heaven was a wonderful place where one could get choco- 
late ice-cream sodas and strawberry sundaes without num- 
ber and without stint. 
Very hearty eater. 
Slept poorly, tossing upon his pillow, his mouth open 
and emitting resounding snores. 
Would stare stupidly when asked a question he preferred 
not to answer, and shrug his shoulders helplessly, as if 
unable to comprehend and make reply. 
Frequently would sit a long time gazing lifelessly at a 
book or newspaper, his fingers aimlessly forming letters of 
the deaf-and-dumb alphabet, for no obvious reason. 
Preferred the use of his sleeves for the purposes allotted 
to a pocket-handkerchief. 
Extremely selfish, obstinate, and indifferent to rules 
and regulations. 
3. Social 
(a) Heredity: 
Father: still a young man in the early thirties, was illit- 
erate, stupid, and quite the simpleton in conversation and 
manners. He had lived in America three years, and was 
still totally unacquainted with the English language. 
Born and bred in Russia, of very humble and poor parents, 
his childhood had been completely devoid of education 
and training. His youth and early manhood had been 
spent in a hard and bitter struggle for subsistence, which 
the added responsibilities of wife and child considerably 
increased. INTRACTABLES 
407 
An American cousin, comfortably established in business, 
advised and then assisted him to seek better opportunities 
in the new country. A tinsmith by trade, he readily found 
employment, and soon was earning fairly good wages, 
which permitted him to support his family better than at 
any other time in his life. He was appreciative of this 
fact, and remarked with childlike naivete, “Though I 
don’t find gold in the streets as I expected, we have enough 
to eat; anyway, it’s a golden land.” 
He was tall, gawky in appearance, his face almost ex- 
pressionless. He lacked ambition and initiative, but under 
direction worked steadily and faithfully. There was no 
question of either his honesty or sobriety. His domestic 
life was known to be peaceful and happy. 
The only known relative he had in America was the 
cousin, who was very successful in business. 
Mother: though only twenty-eight years old, had the 
appearance of a woman twice her age, her careless, un- 
kempt attire adding years to her worn, thin face, which had 
lost any attraction it may have possessed in early youth. 
She was a tubercular suspect, but insisted that she had 
been coughing all her life, and if she had n’t developed 
consumption in the years when she had been starving, it 
was hardly likely that she would develop that disease in 
the years of plenty. 
Like her husband, she was physically ungainly, and 
mentally dull. She too was grossly illiterate, and had no 
desire to adapt herself to the customs of the new country, 
or to make any effort at personal improvement. She just 
steadily plodded along, conscientiously trying to do the 
best her limited mental capacity permitted. 
Her only relatives, two sisters, had come to America 
several years previous to her arrival, were married, and 
raising normal families. 
Siblings: Younger brother, not quite seven years of age, 
was an infantile reproduction of his older brother. His 
mother complained that at that tender age he defied and 
insulted her, and scoffed at any authority his father ven- 
tured to assert. Not only did he imitate his brother’s 
actions at home, but he also duplicated the other’s way- 
ward and unruly conduct in school. Already his kinder- 
garten and First-Grade teachers had brought complaints 
against him of truancy and refractoriness. 408 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
When not in a moving-picture house, his favorite re- 
sort, he would be wandering through the streets of his 
neighborhood, a dirty and neglected child. His mentality 
was rated as very poor. 
Younger sister, four years of age, was a puny, sickly- 
looking child, who had not begun to talk till she was two 
and a half years of age, and seemed unusually dull and 
dispirited. She was too young for definite determination 
of her mental faculties. 
Youngest brothers (twins), not quite one year old, ap- 
peared to be normal babies. 
(6) Developmental: 
“He was the most beautiful baby I ever had,” sighed 
his mother retrospectively. Then she added that his 
infancy and early childhood had been spent uneventfully 
in the small Russian village where he had been born, and 
that he had never shown the troublesome characteristics 
he had developed in America. 
Whether she spoke the truth or not, certain it was that 
her neighbors could not recall any time when the boy was 
anything but a source of annoyance and apprehension to 
them. From the testimony submitted, it appeared that 
he took readily to the streets, almost as soon as he set foot 
upon American soil, and speedily fell in with the gangs, 
which had more influence with him than the school to 
which his parents sent him shortly after their arrival. 
He learned coarse words and oaths before he was ac- 
quainted with the alphabet; and his stolid, ignorant 
parents believed, for some time, that he was making pro- 
gress in the English language when he poured forth a 
volley of obscenities. His truancies from school became 
more frequent as his associations with the gangs became 
more intimate; as his mother at first implicitly believed 
his stories of regular school attendance, his truancy was 
unchecked for some time. 
When the School-Attendance Officer finally got in touch 
with the home, the half-witted and dazed parents were 
entirely unable to cope with the singular individuality that 
was being developed by the gangs. 
In their blind, groping fashion, they sought at first to 
bribe the boy to behave himself; then to frighten him into 
doing so, but with such poor success, that they were ulti- 
mately obliged to appeal to the child-welfare agencies. INTRACTABLES 
409 
(c) Habits and Interests: 
Would not trouble himself to pick up his clothes from 
the floor where he had thrown them in undressing, but 
would calmly appropriate somebody else’s garments when 
any of his own were mislaid or missing, regardless of size 
and condition. 
If not watched, quite willing to go to bed without un- 
dressing at all. Would lie in bed for hours at a time, calmly 
munching some sweetmeat he was able somehow to secrete 
about his person or in his bed; and while rolling his eyes 
in apparent satisfaction with himself and all the world, 
would pick at his nose, till drowsiness overtook him. 
Very vindictive, he had the following two favorite 
ways of “getting even” with such of the children as roused 
his ire: first, he would scheme to attach some guilt or 
misdemeanor to the one in his disfavor; or, second, he 
would sneak into the dining-room and apply more than a 
liberal supply of spicy condiments to his foe’s food. 
Always able to establish an alibi when involved in some 
wrongdoing, and inculpate some meeker and weaker per- 
sonality, intimidated beforehand. 
Interested in locks and keys, and enjoyed filing down 
and hammering at a key till it fitted a stubborn lock. 
Very cruel to animals, which, from repeated kicks when 
they crossed his path, knew enough to fly at his approach. 
No unusual sex-tendencies. Regarded girls with dis- 
dain and contempt. 
(d) Home Conditions: 
In their unintelligent, blundering way, the parents en- 
deavored to establish a good home for their children, to 
whom undoubtedly they were genuinely devoted. Un- 
fortunately for them, they were unable to gain the boy’s 
respect and confidence; not till it was brought home to 
them forcibly, did either of them realize that the neighbor- 
hood was very poor morally as well as financially, and of- 
fered disastrous attractions to their son. 
While the home was well kept by the mother, neither 
she nor her husband understood how to conserve the boy’s 
interests in the home, or how to exert any influence to 
keep him safe within its walls. In their dull, prosaic lives, 
there had never come the question how best to plan the 
home for the benefit of the child; and when the boy 
abandoned the hearth they struggled to maintain, for his 410 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
favored haunts, they were helpless. The allurements the 
boy found in his street associations superseded in his mind 
the care and comfort he was given in his home, which 
ultimately meant nothing to him. 
(e) Mental Interests: 
Gambling with cards or dice. 
When Bernard J made his first appearance in the Home, 
pity was the prevailing sentiment he aroused. Holding each of 
his hands, hanging dummy-like in lifelessness, was a tall, awkward 
parent, unclean and uncombed, in shabby, baggy garments, 
loosely covering each gaunt frame, and exhaling an unmistakable 
odor of grease and perspiration. Between them dragged the un- 
willing boy, in nondescript, soiled, and ragged apparel, and what 
looked like yards of dirty gray material swathing the upper part 
of his diaphragm and also muffling his chin. What remained 
visible of his face was so coated with dust and dirt, that his color 
could not be distinguished. 
Both parents, panting from their exertions, breathed heavily as 
they lumbered into the office, the boy sullen and silent, yet watch- 
ful. Now and then, his small eyes peered quickly about him, from 
under the frayed, fringed edges of what originally may have been 
a cap, and then returned to their downcast frown. 
“I stopped my work for to-day and ran around the streets, and 
she [with a movement of his head towards his wife] ran around the 
streets since early this morning, and we only just caught him,” 
explained the father. 
“We brought him right away, the very minute we caught him,” 
added the mother hastily, anxious to allay any suspicion that 
might be entertained as to the reason he had not been brought the 
day previous, as had been arranged. 
The son scowled at each in turn and opened his mouth. “Aw, 
yous kin go to hell,” he suggested. 
The father, evidently fearing a possible unfavorable impression, 
immediately clapped a heavy hand upon his offspring’s mouth, and 
at the same time stepped upon the lad’s foot to advise caution. 
The boy however was neither daunted nor suppressed. “Aw, 
take yer dirty hand ’way fro’ me,” he growled, pushing the obstruct- 
ing hand from him. 
The parents exchanged uneasy looks. The mother valiantly 
moistened her dry lips and attempted to interpose before the 
breach widened further between father and son. 
The Tkeatment INTRACTABLES 
411 
“He isn’t all right yet,” she put in quickly, her head moving 
negatively to accent her words. “We had him operated for you 
just like you wanted, but he did n’t want to stay in the hospital, 
and ran away with his throat still bleeding.” 
“I gonna do the same from this ’ere joint,” gruffly muttered the 
boy. 
“Don’t — please don’t, little son! You’ll have a good home 
here,” implored the mother. “You’ll get from me anything you 
want if you’ll only be a good boy.” 
While her son was replying to her with ugly grimaces, curiosity 
prompted the question: “What have you wrapped upon him?” 
“ Only three towels,” she said simply. Then added, “ You see his 
throat is so raw yet, I was awfully afraid he’d catch cold right 
after the operation.” 
At the time the boy was examined by the Home physician prior 
to his admission to the institution, he was found suffering from 
diseased and badly swollen tonsils, and running a temperature of 
103°. Hospital treatment had been advised, to be followed by a 
tonsillotomy operation as soon as possible. 
After the parents had been dismissed, the boy was taken firmly 
in hand and given very plainly to understand what was expected 
of him for the future. He was informed that, as no one used pro- 
fanities in the Home, bad language would not be tolerated from 
him or anyone else. “Just how you are going to be treated here 
depends entirely upon yourself,” he was informed. “You don’t 
have to run away if you don’t happen to like things. Nobody is 
kept here by force. Any time you want to leave, step in here, get 
your money [his parents had left for him two dollars for spending 
money], and say ‘good-bye’ like a gentleman.” 
His jaws fell back in astonishment. “I kin go ’way any time I 
wanter?” he questioned incredulously. 
“You are free to leave any time you want,” he was assured 
gravely. 
Surprise and disappointment mingled in his face. Clearly the 
fun and spite to be derived from “runnin’ ’way” had suffered a 
severe shock. If the door were freely opened to him, what need 
would there be for him to force it open? 
He sat there in his evident perplexity, staring stupidly, and 
silent. 
After he had received a good scrubbing in the bath-tub, and his 
grimy clothing and towels were replaced by fresh, clean garments 
which fitted him, he appeared somewhat more human and decid- 
edly less repulsive, though his monitor, with the candor of boy- 
hood, commented succinctly, “Looks like a jackass.” 412 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
The short time spent in making Bernard J ’s acquaintance 
destroyed any reasonable doubt that may have existed concerning 
the aspersions cast upon his character, and the genuineness of his 
rather formidable record. It was deemed necessary to put him 
under the most experienced and able supervision, and also to 
assign to him the trustiest and most efficient of the Big Brothers. 
Robert S was an adolescent youth, who, several years 
previous, had entered the Home as a “problem,” with no mean 
Juvenile Court Record. The possessor of an excellent mind and 
heart, he had responded readily to the friendship that opened to 
him a new vista of life; and with the awakening of honor and 
principle in his soul, he developed a sense of loyalty and gratitude 
that repaid a thousandfold the care and attention given him. It 
was he who was usually asked to assist with a particularly difficult 
case, because, as he himself aptly expressed his own qualifications, 
“I know just when they’re itching to get into trouble, and I know 
what’s on their minds; and don’t I know all the joints they think 
they got a crush on? They can’t get away from me.” To him 
was assigned Bernard J as little brother. 
Several days later, he entered the office, a worried wrinkle be- 
tween his eyes and evidently quite perturbed. 
“Say, that youngster’s some photographer, believe me,” was 
his announcement. 
“Photographer!” in amazement and curiosity came the ex- 
clamation. 
“Sure, he’s some photographer,” emphatically reiterated the 
Big Brother, with his characteristic gravity. “Takes everything 
in sight.” 
He permitted the significance of his definition to be completely 
absorbed, and then stated, “He can’t make friends with the real 
kids; just hangs around the bad ones.” He shook his head in dis- 
pleasure, adding, “And does n’t he just bully them! I’ll bet my 
boots he’s the worst of that whole shooting-match.” 
“Why do you think so?” 
“He makes any one in that bunch do what he wants,” was the 
reply. 
“The photographer” then came in for very close observation. 
It was noted that he was bon camarade with the most difficult of 
the “problems,” and seemed to find no interest in the routine of 
work and play arranged for the boys of his age. He was already 
involved in petty pilfering, and was accused of unruly conduct by 
his supervisor. 
A long conversation was held with the boy, during which he INTRACTABLES 
413 
avowed his innocence of all charges against him. He claimed that 
he wanted to stay in the Home, because he “liked the grub, was 
took to the movies, went swimmin’, an’ had a good time,” but that 
he couldn’t understand “why all the time there’s somebody 
pickin’ on me.” Finally he confessed to “takin’ candy fer nothin’ 
from the candy shop, and swipin’ couple o’ pennies — that’s all.” 
He promised, however, to make every effort to abandon even such 
trifling misdemeanors. 
He was started to school and admitted to the First Grade. 
Efforts were also concentrated upon arousing a possible dormant 
intellect with every advantage offered by the various classes, 
activities, and plays. 
Shortly the teacher of the Art Class, in which he had been en- 
rolled as a member, claimed that he was unable to distinguish 
colors and could not draw a line. In the manual-training classes 
he found nothing to interest him, and the teachers, without ex- 
ception, begged to be relieved of a nuisance. During the children’s 
plays and entertainments, and even through the boys’ games, he 
would stand idly by, his mouth open in an idiotic grin, his hands 
hanging listlessly at his side, displaying absolute unconcern. The 
Scout organization offered no appeal to him. 
At first, his teacher in the primary school reported that he was 
making slow progress. The young woman felt inclined to pity 
the lad, who, she felt, was trying to overcome the misfortune of 
a feeble intellect, and gave him her special attention after school- 
hours. He appeared devoted to her, and a hope was being en- 
couraged that through this devotion the boy might ultimately be 
benefited. 
One afternoon the teacher was called to the telephone while 
giving a special lesson to him and a smaller and younger boy, and 
upon her return found the watch she had left upon her desk miss- 
ing. Both boys declared their innocence, but “the photographer” 
gave incontrovertible proof of his by producing the watch from 
one of the small Louis’s pockets. As eight-year old Louis had 
achieved quite a juvenile court reputation prior to his admission 
to the institution, his profuse tears and protestations carried no 
weight and he was considered guilty. Not till almost two years 
had passed, was it discovered that he had been victimized by the 
other’s cunning. The little fellow had been standing beside “the 
photographer” when the teacher missed her watch, and the dis- 
covery of the pilferer became imminent. Then, very cleverly and 
adroitly handled, the watch changed pockets, unseen and unheard. 
Meanwhile, the teacher, regretting that she had permitted a 414 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
suspicion of the probity of the pupil in whom she was interested 
to enter her mind, redoubled her efforts to help his slow mind com- 
prehend the lessons she taught him. Under her generous guidance, 
he did appear to make some favorable progress in his school-work, 
becoming so inspired that he once declared, “I’ll be a teacher 
when I get growed.” 
At the Home, his supervisor felt that he was improving, though 
his Big Brother shook his head sadly, and expressed the opinion: 
“I guess he’s deeper than we think.” Petty thefts, when they 
were investigated and reinvestigated, were never laid at the door 
of “the photographer.” While in some detached way, he appeared 
not wholly the innocent bystander, who assisted in bringing a 
sinner to justice, still there was no definite indication of his con- 
nection with the misdeed. 
There were several months at a time when nothing worse than 
stupidity could be counted against him. His impertinence and 
swearing had lessened, and his manners had improved. He had 
even been influenced to give some little thought to his personal 
cleanliness. His “wanderings” had always been minor misde- 
meanors with him, as he always returned himself after a few hours’ 
absence, expressing humble contrition, and imploring pardon. 
Always he would vouchsafe the information that he had but been 
visiting his parents or aunts, because he had become “lonesome” 
for them. Upon investigation, it was found that presumptively he 
spoke the truth, but neglected to tell of the “souvenirs” in money 
and trinkets he had taken away with him after his unexpected 
calls. 
When he next returned from such a “visit,” he was asked to 
empty all his pockets. He complied readily enough with all but 
one inner pocket, which he claimed “had nothin’ in any way.” 
That “subtle” plea being disregarded, he very unwillingly turned 
that pocket inside out, and brought to view a very valuable lady’s 
ring. After admitting that the ring belonged to his aunt, his woes 
were considerably increased by the bitter humiliation that was his, 
when he was compelled to call his aunt over the telephone, and 
request her to call for her property and due apologies. 
The incident weighed upon his mind to such an extent that he 
“did n’t sleep all night,” and was missing the next day at school 
and then again at luncheon at the Home. Late that afternoon, he 
was marched into the office by his ever-alert Big Brother, who 
employed one hand to support a pile of high-school books, and 
the other to exert a strong pressure on his charge. INTRACTABLES 
415 
“Can you imagine what he’s been trying to do now?” queried 
the captor in indignation; and without waiting for any conjecture, 
added hotly, “Been holding up Christmas trees.” 
He pointed to “the photographer’s” pockets oddly bulging and 
ghttering. Soon there poured forth upon the office-desk such a 
collection of tinsel, angels in gleaming silver and gold, popcorn 
balls, numerous ornaments and toys, that even the sedate walnut 
looked festive. 
The boy explained his possessions with unique simplicity. His 
heart was broken since his disgrace of last night; so much so, that 
he could n’t find his way to school in the morning, and walked the 
streets to forget his troubles, till he was suddenly attracted by the 
display of Christmas toys. He had n’t intended “touching” any- 
thing, he declared, but the counters were so overloaded, “I just 
had to put a few things in my pockets.” 
His stolid face expressed his utter misery as he was compelled 
to collect his illegitimate possessions and put them securely in a 
package. Then he returned to the store and restored to a be- 
wildered proprietor that which belonged to him. Unfortunately, 
in this instance, the moral force of the intended lesson was blunted, 
as the surprised owner of the stolen goods regarded losses by theft 
as normal liabilities in his business, and was profuse in his admira- 
tion and gratitude for the virtuous repentance that had returned 
his property. Naturally, “the photographer” was then disposed 
to regard himself as more abused than others of his kind, who were 
permitted to profit from their spoils. 
Nor was this all he had to bear. During a holiday week, when 
the children received some special treat daily, he was not per- 
mitted to participate in the jollifications, that the reprehensibility 
of his conduct might be further impressed upon him. As he could 
conceive of no greater punishment than the deprivation of the 
treats he loved most dearly, he made the most extravagant 
promises to reform. Working then upon the desire that appeared 
to be uppermost in his mind, the cherished treats were promised 
him for subsequent holidays, if good conduct warranted them in 
the future. 
Some months then passed, and he seemed to be expending more 
time and energy in qualifying himself for the pleasures he desired, 
than for any other cause. There were occasional gleams of bright- 
ness, which encouraged a fleeting hope that it was not a feeble 
but a slumbering intellect upon which patience and work were be- 
ing generously expended. On the other hand, there were often 416 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
periods when discouragement advised, as the best possible solu- 
tion, his speedy transfer to the Institution for the Feeble-Minded. 
As time progressed and he was nearing his second year at the 
Home, it was noted that physically his new environment had un- 
deniably benefited him. He had become less slovenly in his 
habits, gave some heed to his clothes, and the teasing of the boys 
in his dormitory had done more than any series of talks given him, 
in teaching him to curb gluttony, selfishness, and ungainly char- 
acteristics. In school, he barely made one grade a year, even with 
additional coaching, and the principal and teachers finally ex- 
pressed the opinion that the boy was definitely feeble-minded. 
Every class activity, sport, and pastime in the Home had been 
employed as an expedient with which to reach his dormant mind, 
only to meet with ultimate failure. When pets had been enlisted 
as a possible means toward a desired result, the poor creatures 
would have died of starvation had they been left completely to 
his tender mercies. The garden allotted to him ran to weeds and 
made the poorest showing among all the gardens, yet he was 
neither ashamed nor interested. 
Suddenly a series of petty thefts broke out. Gradually they 
increased till they were no longer petty, and then they began to 
give serious concern. Worse still, the perpetrator or instigator of 
them could not be discovered, and when, by chance, a youngster 
was found involved, it was usually some weak, timid little fellow, 
who was palpably being employed as a stall. In many instances, 
the “work” had been executed so cleverly, quickly, and shrewdly, 
that it was the consensus of opinion among the people in the house 
who were acquainted with the details of the thefts, that the master 
mind of a fully grown thief was at work. 
A period of watchful waiting began. The thief, whosoever he 
might be, child or adult, was becoming bolder and pilfering bills 
of larger denomination with each succeeding attempt, or picking 
an even stronger lock. Precautions and watchers were doubled. 
Many long, silent hours were spent in a darkened room which 
contained a chest of drawers that had been attracting the nimble- 
fingered one, but with no result. 
Sums of money continued to disappear at short intervals, and 
also articles of value, belonging to the employees in the house, 
began to be missed; it became evident that the master thief was 
watching the watchers, and doing his work when one of them 
lagged. It was no longer doubted that there was a cunning and 
dexterity being employed that was genius of a kind, though, alas! 
a perverted genius. INTRACTABLES 
Precautions were now taken to offer no possible opportunity for 
theft, by regulations enforcing constant wariness and watchful- 
ness. It seemed reasonable to anticipate that the thief, finding 
nearly all his avenues carefully watched, would become desperate 
and do something on a larger scale still, something large and fla- 
grant enough to betray himself — and he did! 
A new boy had meanwhile been admitted to the Home. He was 
an undersized lad of twelve, in describing whom, before the Chil- 
dren’s Bureau, a prominent psychiatrist had characterized as, “a 
child of twelve with the physical development of eight, the mental 
development of six, and the social development of eighteen.” He 
had come direct from a boy’s disciplinary institution. 
“Hel-lo, Cap’n!” was his eager exclamation as his eyes fell upon 
“the photographer.” 
The latter’s dull response to the greeting was inane enough to 
dissolve suspicion regarding any intimacy between the two, yet the 
salutation accorded him aroused curiosity. The feeble-minded 
“photographer” called “captain”! Why? 
It seemed that he avoided the new boy. Yet sudden inter- 
changes of smiles and glances pointed to an established sympathy, 
if not understanding, with each other, which was confirmed when 
the little one’s monitor announced, “Oh, he ain’t much good; 
he’s a pal of that Bernard J .” 
It was with great care and tactful persuasion that the new 
“problem” was influenced to become confidential. 
“Why do you call Bernard J captain?” he was asked. 
“Aw, ’cause he’s awful smart, an’ makes us do what he wants,” 
was the pertinent reply. 
Further questioning elicited the information that it had been 
the seasoned delinquents of the Reformatory who had applied the 
title to “the photographer,” in admiration of his exploits. Sud- 
denly the little fellow recollected that he was probably betraying 
secrets, and burst into passionate sobs which plainly told in what 
terror he stood of the stronger mind. Not without difficulty were 
his fears allayed, after which a secret pact was formed binding 
each party to the conference to make no disclosures concerning 
it, and pledging eternal friendship and loyalty. 
A few days later, one of the older boys won a gold medal at an 
athletic tournament. The following day, he missed the treasured 
token of his prowess. Several of the “problems” were under 
suspicion, among them being “the photographer” and the new 
boy. During the general cross-examination, it was observed that 
417 418 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
between the two there manifestly existed some understanding, as 
evidenced by sundry moves and twists of the larger boy’s eyes 
and lips to the smaller one. Attention was then concentrated upon 
the two, and the other boys dismissed. 
“The photographer” made vehement denial of the theft. He 
claimed that the winner of the medal and he had never been friends, 
slept in different dormitories, and that everybody knew that the 
medal had been pinned to its proud possessor’s bosom when he 
went to bed — so how could he have taken it? 
The smaller boy hung upon his words and seemed very uneasy. 
“Did you take the medal?” was asked him suddenly. 
“He did n’t, I can swear he did n’t,” hastily put in “the photog- 
rapher,” before the other’s faint “N-o-o!” was heard. 
The former was excused from further attendance, and his com- 
panion remained alone without support. 
“Is that the way to treat a pal who treats you right?” he was 
asked. 
“I ain’t done nothin’,” he sobbed. 
“Did you tell the truth about the medal?” 
“I — I — I can’t,” he whispered, looking frightened. 
“Why can’t you tell all about it to your friend and pal?” 
“I — I — I’m awful ’fraid to — snitch on him,” he cried, the 
tears pouring down his tiny face. 
It was then that the pact made at the conference of two was 
quite serviceable. Placed between the terror of offending a “pal” 
to whom he had promised loyalty, and whose favor he no doubt 
deemed it advisable to retain, and the danger of “snitching” on a 
friend to whom he was bound by the law of fear, the little fellow 
indeed found himself between Scylla and Charybdis. 
Encouraged, and then promised that he should be protected 
from the other’s vengeance, he evidently weighed the claims of the 
two contending forces in his tumultuous mind, and decided in favor 
of what seemed the higher and more powerful authority. Pluck- 
ing up his courage, he made a complete confession, in which he 
submitted surprising information. 
First, he told how he had done “jobs” for “the cap’n,” in the 
Reformatory, which the latter had threatened to divulge, unless 
assured of his tool’s absolute faithfulness and cooperation. Then, 
he had been further intimidated by the reports the other had sub- 
mitted to him of his methods in “getting even” with those who 
refused to obey his commands. A list of names of the disobedient 
ones, and of the misdeeds in which they had been involved, was INTRACTABLES 
419 
cited, among them that of the small Louis who had been unjustly 
accused of taking the teacher’s watch. 
Observing that the lad was hesitating and looked as if he had 
further disclosures to make, he was stimulated, by repeated prom- 
ises of protection, to continue with his confidences. Finally, in 
quavering tones, he told with what he had become acquainted by 
his “captain” almost upon his arrival at the institution. “The 
cap’n was gonna go trav’lin’ an’ take me with ’im, an’ had lots of 
money and things hid away, till he gits ready.” 
“Do you know where the hiding-place is?” 
The poor little tool nodded his infantile head. 
He then obediently led the way as requested. At the Assembly 
Hall he paused, and whispered, “In there!” 
The large room seemed barren of any possible treasure; but 
the youngster showed its unsuspected resources, when he crawled 
like a worm under the platform, and then emerging, beckoned ex- 
citedly. He was pushing before him a very dirty bundle, which, 
when opened, revealed most of the mysterious losses of several 
months, including the brand-new, shining medal. 
The master thief was none other than “the photographer.” 
The following day he was taken to the Psychiatric Clinic to 
determine definitely his “feeble-mindedness,” that he might be 
transferred to the institution best suited to his type. It was rec- 
ommended that he be sent to R , an institution for the feeble- 
minded. While the necessary applications were being made, the 
boy determined to give further proof of the possibilities of a 
“feeble-mind.” 
Suddenly he and the new boy were reported missing. The 
monitors made a thorough search without success; but the next 
morning, on the way to school, two of them spied the missing 
boys in a restaurant. Within a few minutes, the four were home- 
ward bound. 
The monitors entered the office triumphant and grinning. 
“Jiminy,” exclaimed one, “he’s got money like Rockefeller. 
Wanted to give us both a bushel of coin to let him go — us, 
Scouts!” 
“The photographer” seemed abashed neither at the rather dizzy 
financial standing allotted to him, nor at the moral degeneracy 
implied in trying to tamper with the honor of Scouts. His face 
was blank and his eyes dull. His tiny accomplice looked tired 
and frightened, more like a hunted animal than anything else. 
But he kept his small mouth closed in the presence of the other, 
declaring stoutly that he would “pull no bull.” 420 
CHILDREN ASTRAY 
Later, when his exhausted body had been bathed and refreshed, 
and the influences of his “captain” had been minimized by another 
and stronger power, he gave an account of his adventures. 
The “captain” had told him to get ready at once to go with him, 
as he did not intend to go to R , and he wanted company in his 
travels. Of course the spiritless youngster immediately obeyed, 
and the two boys made their way to a synagogue, some distance 
away from the Home, into which they gained admission by climb- 
ing through- a window, which they pried open with an ordinary 
button-hook. 
Here they passed the night, and hid under a bench when they 
heard the sexton coming in the morning. When the congregation 
had assembled, the boys suddenly appeared and stated that they 
had come for early morning prayers. They were made welcome 
and remained, eagerly watching the contributions made for charity 
in a box passed around by the sexton. The box was then left upon 
the table till the prayers should be over. 
Whether “the photographer” knew the habits of the congrega- 
tion or not, it was certain that he now saw his chance. While the 
men were at prayers, the smaller boy walked up to the table, 
stumbled, and dropped his coat on the box. The larger one imme- 
diately behind him picked up the coat which hid the box under- 
neath it; and when the sexton had awakened to a sense of his loss, 
the two boys were in an alley, gloating over their treasure. 
Had it not been for the keen hunger of youth which brought 
them to the restaurant where the Scouts had detected them, the 
two would have started their travels to a nearby city that morn- 
ing. Instead “the photographer” made a rather lonely trip to the 
Reformatory. 
The Result 
From Records in the Benevolent Society: 
Bernard J , born September 15, 1905, in Russia. 
“Arrested four times (1914-15). 
“March 25, 1916, Bernard J was transferred from the Re- 
formatory to the Orphanage. 
“In January, 1918, it became necessary for the Superintendent 
of the Orphanage to return Bernard J to the Reformatory 
because of his apparent criminal tendencies. 
“Dr. C advised his return to the Reformatory, as he was 
delinquent rather than defective. 
“December 3, 1919, Bernard J was released from the 
Reformatory, on a writ of habeas corpus. At the hearing, the INTRACTABLES 
421 
boy’s father urged that the boy be released, on the strength of 
the fact that he had bought a home in a better neighborhood and 
intended to move his family into it. Also that he would take 
Bernard to work with him. 
“The boy was released, but the family did not move, and 
Bernard sold newspapers. 
“In December, 1921, Bernard J was arrested for larceny. 
He was recommitted to the Reformatory.”