, THE HEART OF-THE POLICE PROBLEM
John J. O'Brien, police inspector, "who died in New York the other day,
knew men. Among his papers he leftthis bit of ripe opinion:
"I know something of what the world calls criminals. They have the
same warm elasp as you or I. Their brains were fashioned by the same
power. You ancf-I may have had criminal instincts, and it may have been
our good fortune never tor nave had temptatiqqrQirown in our path. We all
fill our places in life, playing the game until we gb out forever. I know the
human ide of criminals, and4 know that human lives are much -alike, but
when I see a man placing'himself upon a pedestal and calling his fellow men
criminals, I mistrust that man."
The best police chief this country ever saw used to be the foreman of a
gang of circus tentmen. When. "Golden Boile" Sam Jones offered him the
job in Toledo, O., he knew nothing ati all about police routine; but he had
a far greater equipment, a.blg, warm; human heart and a brotherly mind.
So he tried, not to make men worse by cruelty, but to make them better by
sympathy and kindness. . S
New York is looking for h new jsuperintendent of pojiee'. Its mayor
wants Col. Goethals and Goeth&ls isn't anxious to consider the job unless
he can have a free hand lA rule along lines of military authority. -
Goethals might make a great success of it, as great as at Panama. But
it is Goethals, the man, not Goethals, the martinet, whowould have the
best chance. A human longshoreman might "cTo as well. ",
TOOKJT LITERALLY - TT' SPPtNH
By H. M. Cochran.
It's gettin' mild outside and the grass
Is gettin' green.
The warm, warm rains have lately
Into the scenQ. s
The sun's been shinin' and the birds
Are on the wing.
Guess "the whole thing -means to in
All the farmer folks will soon be out
In the garden.
Unless Jack Frost butts in, dog
The fever's hit us andwe're lazy,
Can't do a thing.
Let warmth come, we should worry,
'Cause it's spring
AVOIDING OFFENSE '
The man glared at the telephone.
He would fain relieve his mind, but
there wefe ladies"present. '
"Why," he at length exclaimedl in
geniously, "should I say 'hello' when
,the reverse is true?" Lippincotfs.
The City Child What's the name
of that little boy?
The Farmer Why, my dear child,
that ain't no little boy. That there
is a pig.
The City Child Oh, I know that,
but I've heard of little boys making
pigs of themselves, and just wondered
which one had been doing it.
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