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The day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, June 18, 1914, NOON EDITION, Image 7

Image and text provided by University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1914-06-18/ed-1/seq-7/

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WILL SOME "FATHERLY" POLICEMAN EXPLAIN WHY OFFICERS
THREATEN TO ARREST BOYS
deaf wife. He has run away, but the
boy was captured. If you will come
with me I will let you talk to the
boy."
I followed her back into a room
where the boys are kept while they
are waiting to be brought into court
or afterward when they are waiting
to be released or sent away, and the
boy was not there, but my eyes open
ed wide when I did see a boy of whom
I am very fond, because "he never
grew up."
"What in the world are you doing
here, child?" I asked him, but he
hung his head sheepishly and did not
answer.
I hurried back into the courtroom,
hoping that the "boy who never grew
up" had not been arrested on a seri
ous charge, because he always seems1
to me like a wee laddie of 10 or 11 in
stead of 17 he is so full of mischief.
And why do you suppose he had
been arrested? For slapping a very
serious-faced Italian.
"This boy was raised as a child in
that neighborhood," the officer said,
"and since his people moved away
he comes back to visit. This man
says he was coming along and as he
passed a crowd of six or eight boys
this boy reached out and slapped him.
Into the eyes of the "boy who nev
er grew up" a gleam of mischief
stole and then faded away. "I just did
it for fun," he told the judge, and he
was released on a peace .bond.
I followed him out into the corri
dor, not to scold him, but because the
"boy who never grew up" is very in
teresting to me and I wanted to hear
some of his nonsense.
But the officer was talking to him
severely and as I passed he called:
"Hey there-, come here. I want you
to tell this boy what will happen to
him if I ever catch him in that neigh
borhood again. I'll run him in, and
with this record against him it will
go hard."
Something mutinous poised on the
By Jane Whitaker.
The "chanceless boy" isn't a myth
by any means; every day in courts
you will see him, but the saddest
thing to me is to hear the mother of
a boy plead that he has had no
chance. And yesterday a mother so
pleaded in the Boy's Court, telling the
judge that the boy's father had abus
ed him and wouldn't let him stay in
the house; that the boy, forced on
the street, had been arrested for loi
tering and sent to the Bridewell for
thirty days; that when he came out
he was again forced on the streets
and mingled with bad company until
now he was accused of the crime of
stealing brass and peddling it.
The boy himself, sandy-haired and
blue-eyed, added his own plea, as his
eyes were alternately wistful and
pleading, hopeless and beaten.
"If I get another chance, I won't
get in trouble again," he said. "But
everything that's done is blamed on
me anyway since I came out of the
Bridewell. I did steal the bag of brass,
but I won't ever do anything wrong
again if I get a chance."
"Poor little youngster, he certainly
never did have a chance," I said to
Miss Thompson, who is the Big Sis
ter of the court and who always wins
my heart because she is so sympa
thetic and so understanding.
"There was a sadder story than
that here this morning," she said. "A
boy of 17 accused of holding up a
store, and he had been taken into
vthe job by his brother-in-law, a Pon
tiac graduate.
'The boy seems to have been inno
cent of the planning of the robbery.
He seemed to think it was all a joke
until it actually occurred and he was
shot in the leg.
"But the really sad part of it is
that the brother-in-law is married
to the boy's sister, who is not. only
totally deaf but also blind, yet the
mother of two children, and the
brother-in-Jaw idolizes his blind and
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