{s 
 
 < . -'^/
 
 CHILD TOILERS 
 
 O F 
 
 BOSTON STREETS. 
 
 BY 
 
 EMMA E. BROWN. 
 
 AUTHOR OF ' FROM NIGHT TO LIGHT.' 
 
 BOSTON: 
 D. LOTHROP AND COMPANY, 
 
 FRANKLIN ST., CORNER OP HAWLEY.
 
 COPYRIGHT BY 
 
 O. LOTHROP Si CO, 
 1879.
 
 CHILD TOILERS. 
 
 CHRISTMAS GREENS. 
 
 IT is a well-known fact that in all of our large cities 
 a great number of children are employed in various 
 street occupations ; but I think few realize how much 
 actually depends upon the labors of these little 
 " Child Toilers." In the papers here given, all the 
 facts stated, and all the illustrations, are drawn, not 
 from imagination, but from real life. 
 
 And, as appropriate to the season, we give first in 
 the series a sketch of our little street venders in 
 
 "CHRISTMAS GREENS." 
 
 Since early morning, like some wee dryad of the 
 forest, little Anna has stood there in her bower 
 
 12GC094
 
 8 Child Toilers. 
 
 of green. It is a bitter cold day, and a north corner, 
 down in Quincy Market, is certainly not a favorable 
 place for tempering our bleak Boston east winds to the 
 "shorn lamb;" but Anna is a brave little girl, and 
 drawing the old water-proof over her head she man- 
 ages by vigorous clappings and stampings to keep 
 head, hands, and feet in a tolerable state of comfort. 
 Then she is so interested in the arrangement and sale 
 of her pretty Christinas greens that she doesn't stop 
 to think much about herself or the weather. 
 
 All around her little stand, by the great stone 
 pillars, are many "rivals in trade; "for since the 
 week began, hundreds of teams have come in from 
 the country with all manner of " green things." Close 
 beside her, stand some fragrant spruces and firs that 
 came from away " down east," for although many of 
 the suburban towns, especially Randolph, Needham, 
 Stoughton, West Wareham, Walpole, Lincoln, North 
 Abington and Natick, furnish our city with much of 
 the so-called "small " trimmings, it is chiefly from the 
 grand old forests of Maine, that our finest Christmas 
 trees, and the " large " trimmings for church and hall 
 are obtained. I am told that one season three thou- 
 sand trees were shipped from Bangor and Portland 
 to a single firm on Broad street, and many " Down 
 East " farmers come, year after year, to Quincy
 
 r 
 
 
 LITTLE ANNA.
 
 Christmas Greens. 9 
 
 Market with trees they have felled on their own 
 woodlands. 
 
 If any of these trees become injured by transporta- 
 tion, they are generally stripped, and the twigs woven 
 into festoons; while those that still preserve their 
 native symmetry, are sold, according to size and 
 quality, from twenty-five cents to two and three dollars 
 apiece. As no rent is demanded for the use of " out- 
 door" corners, these countrymen can sometimes 
 clear hundreds of dollars during the holiday season 
 especially, if in addition to their trees, they bring, 
 as many do, a large assortment of wreaths, crosses, 
 anchors, and other church emblems made by tasteful 
 hands at home. 
 
 Of course they are liable to have these smaller 
 wares stolen, as they have no place to store them 
 over night; but "forewarned" they generally come 
 " forearmed," and a common custom among them is 
 to have a large box closely fitted to their vehicles 
 where all the choice greens can be securely kept 
 under lock and key. 
 
 Here are two lads, evidently brothers, who have 
 come from a long distance. They have brought only 
 trees, and rough boughs ; so, to save the expense of 
 stabling their poor old horse the greens are all taken 
 out of the hurdles and deposited in a heterogeneous
 
 io Child Toilers. 
 
 mass upon the side-walk. Then, while one brother 
 stays to arrange and look after their "stock in 
 trade," the other goes home with the empty sledge. 
 It is a little curious that among all these venders 
 of Christmas greens, you will seldom find an Italian 
 boy or girl ; although, in other street occupations, 
 these dark-eyed children of the south out-number 
 
 even in Boston the German, Irish and American 
 born. 
 
 Besides those who sell Christmas greens on the 
 corners and in the markets, there are other children 
 
 mostly Germans in our different mission-schools, 
 especially in the one connected with Dr. Ellis's 
 church on Berkeley street, who gather evergreens 
 and berries, before the snow comes, in the fields and 
 woods just about Boston. These the mothers and 
 older sisters at home make up into wreaths, crosses, 
 and other emblems ; and a few days before Christinas 
 the children go out upon the street and sell them 
 from door to door. 
 
 The florists seldom, if ever, employ boys and girls 
 to sell their holiday decorations; and whenever or 
 wherever you see these little out door merchants, you 
 may be pretty sure they are selling on their own re- 
 sponsibility. 
 
 But we are wandering away from little Anna, and
 
 Christmas Greens. n 
 
 it is her "store" that I want you to notice, particu- 
 larly. Perhaps you have already recognized her, for 
 the picture we give you is taken from life, and all last 
 summer she stood at this very same corner, selling 
 mints and herbs. Her dark hair and eyes certainly 
 remind one of the little Italians down in Ferry and 
 North Bennett street ; but Anna is of German parent- 
 age, and since the father's death, her mother has 
 been obliged to go out to service, while a kind old 
 aunt who lives in one of those dark tenement houses 
 on Hanover Avenue, has shared her hard earned home 
 with little Anna. 
 
 Weeks ago, before the drifting snows came, the 
 men and boys of the family gathered these bright 
 evergreens feathery "princess pine," and the "run- 
 ning Jennie" that clambers everywhere with her 
 " seven-leagued boots," sprays of the Roxbury wax- 
 work, too, snow-white immortelles, and the dazzling 
 red berries of the bitter-sweet they found down in the 
 Waltham Meadows ; and could you have looked into 
 Anna's home those long November evenings, you 
 would have seen the whole family busily at work 
 upon the fragrant greens sometimes, " till the wee 
 small hours " of night. For it takes a deal of time 
 and patience to make these pretty emblems as any 
 of my little readers know, who have tried the work
 
 12 Child Toilers. 
 
 themselves, for home and school decoration ; and 
 the modest price that Anna asks for her wreaths 
 and crosses, is but a just compensation for the labor 
 bestowed upon them If she is successful in her hol- 
 iday sales, she will go to school through the remain- 
 ing winter months ; and then when the " dandelions " 
 come, you will see her again at the corner. And let 
 us not forget that little Anna is but " one of many." 
 
 On the opposite corner of the " Agricultural Ware- 
 house " you will find another little vender of Christ- 
 mas greens whose story is no less interesting. Liz is 
 a littlje German girl, too ; but unlike Anna, she has 
 been brought up a Roman Catholic. Her father and 
 mother are both living, but the family are poor ; and 
 all through the year, little Liz, the youngest and the 
 only child now at home, helps bravely, by her street 
 vending to keep the dreaded " wolf from the door." 
 At one time she attended an evening school; but 
 looking down with reddening cheeks upon her 
 shabby dress and tattered shawl, she said in answer 
 to my question : 
 
 " No, ma'am I don't go now they all made so 
 much fun of me ! " 
 
 I'oor little Liz I 
 
 Will no one share with her, and the large class she 
 represents, a drop from their "over-flowing cups?"
 
 Christmas Greens. 13 
 
 These hard times have affected the sale of Christ- 
 mas greens, more than one might imagine ; but, as a 
 rule, the demand for them increases every year. And 
 truly what better cheer can we give our homes, than 
 a breath of all these green things that with mute but 
 eloquent lips are always praising the Lord ? Some 
 say that the custom of decorating our houses and our 
 churches with these fragrant boughs, is borrowed from 
 the old Druids, who sought thus to shelter their wood 
 nymphs from the biting frosts ; however that maybe, 
 it is among Christian nations only, that we find the 
 true signification of Christmas greens; for are they 
 not all emblems of the true life of life that still abides 
 in the heart though all without is cold and dead? 
 Years ago, in the old Puritan families of New Eng- 
 land, any festivities at Christmas time would have 
 been as severely denounced as that first banjo in 
 church ! But as the years went by, there came, from 
 over the seas, Norse and Swedes and happy German 
 families who brought with them all manner of quaint, 
 beautiful customs that the litlle American children 
 looked upon with wonder and delight. From their 
 English cousins they had heard about the great yule- 
 log that burned from Christmas eve to Candlemas ; 
 the mistletoe bough under which so many kisses were
 
 14 Child Toilers. 
 
 stolen ; the Glastonbury hawthorn that always blos- 
 somed on Christmas morning ; the games on Twelfth- 
 night; and the sweet carols that the little chimney- 
 sweeps sang in the streets. 
 
 But the legends about the Christ-child, -and the 
 beautiful trees with their waxen tapeis and their 
 wonderful fruit of toys and bon-bons this was 
 something altogether new to Boston children, a hun- 
 dred years ago. Now, aside from the large quantities 
 sold in Quincy Market, on Boylston street corner, and 
 other well-known localities in the business part of out 
 city, every florist sells, upon an average, four or five 
 hundred trees at Christmas time, together with an 
 indefinite number of wreaths, crosses and other em- 
 blems. In addition to the evergreens already men- 
 tioned, the holly (originally holy tree), the kalmia, 
 or laurel, the inkberry, a great variety of mosses, 
 ferns, grasses and immortelles are always in demand 
 for Christmas decorations ; and since we have only a 
 poor substitute in this country for mistletoe, all oui 
 large florist establishments send directly to England 
 for this magical parasite, that is said to possess 
 especial power when found growing upon oak boughs 
 Of the many varieties of roseum or "everlasting" 
 flowers, I am told, that large quantities are grown
 
 Christmas Greens. 15 
 
 upon the waste lands at Cape Cod ; then they are 
 taken to wholesale establishments in Paris and Lon- 
 don, made into all sorts of designs, and frequently 
 adorned with artificial colors, before they again cross 
 the water to be sold in our city as choice importations. 
 The natural colors of these " immortelle " flowers, 
 are white ( which needs, however, a thorough bleach- 
 ing before use), a brilliant yellow, and, among the 
 " amaranth " family, various shades of crimson. 
 Sometimes, especially when the wreaths, crosses 
 . etc., are intended for memorial purposes as well as 
 for Christmas decorations, the natural tints are pre- 
 ferred; for white is always in demand, and yellow in 
 France, is considered a badge of mourning and used" 
 at funerals as we would use white or black. There 
 is, among the "roseums," a shaded orange that is 
 not natural, but you can readily tell whether the color 
 is artificial or not by noticing the separate flowers 
 which always lose somewhat of their perfect " rose " 
 form, when subjected to the dyeing process. Aside 
 from this, it is really a very easy matter to tint the 
 stiff petals of "everlasting" flowers; and although, 
 as we said before, most of these decorations are sold 
 as imported articles, the work can be done (and 
 probably is done, in many instances), at our own 
 dye-houses. Indeed, quite a field is opened here, for
 
 1 6 Child Toilers. 
 
 home ingenuity | for by the use of a camel's hair brush 
 and good, durable colors, skillful fingers can produce 
 far prettier effects, than any we find among the so 
 called imported designs. 
 
 It is a good thing for both the florists and the 
 street venders when Christmas comes upon a Satur- 
 day, for then the whole preceeding week can be devoted 
 to the display and sale of Christmas greens. Should a 
 Sunday come between, the " out door " corners must 
 " shut up shop " and put their wares out of the way ; 
 but sometimes quick sales bring the largest profit ; 
 and the night before Christmas always presents one 
 of the liveliest sights imaginable down in Quincy 
 Market. Then every scrap of green is eagerly gath- 
 ered up and sold by handfuls ; for there is always the 
 " late " customer for Christmas greens as for every- 
 thing else ; and many an enterprising little urchin, by 
 careful " gathering up of the fragments," succeeds in 
 turning at the eleventh hour, literally a goodly 
 number of pennies for Christmas morning.
 
 THE NEWSBOYS. 
 
 DID you ever stop to think what a curious sort of 
 life our little newsboys lead ? Taking a car 
 one afternoon, just below the Herald office on Wash- 
 ington Street, I was greatly entertained by a bevy of 
 these little fellows, who came trooping in and soon 
 filled up all the vacant seats about me. 
 
 Their arms were full of the latest edition, fresh 
 from the press ; and with a nimbleness of ringer that 
 could only have come from long practice, they quickly 
 folded the damp sheets, slung them across their shoul- 
 ders, and then, with hands jingling the change in their 
 pockets, they began to talk over the day's losses and 
 gains, and the splendid sales in store for them be- 
 
 17
 
 i8 Child Toilers. 
 
 
 cause of the " big sensation," all with a shrewdness 
 
 and keen business insight worthy of State Street or 
 the Exchange. 
 
 It was amusing and painful both this precocious 
 child-talk. The largest boy among them was scarcely 
 older than little Tom, who comes every morning to 
 his papa for spending-money, and who reckons its 
 value simply by the amount of toys or candies it will 
 buy. 
 
 What would our little boy think, I wonder, if his 
 breakfast, his dinner, and his supper to say noth- 
 ing of lodging and clothes, depended upon the 
 pennies he could earn each day ? 
 
 Yet among the three hundred newsboys who throng 
 our Boston streets, I find there is scarcely one upon 
 whose exertions does not depend his own support, and, 
 in many instances, the maintenance of a whole 
 family 1 
 
 It was only to-day that an instance came to my no- 
 tice deserving especial mention. Down by Snow-hill 
 Street is a poor Italian family, consisting of father, 
 mother, and (if I remember rightly) five children. 
 
 Two of the boys are licensed to sell newspapers, 
 but at one time last winter the elder brother was 
 taken ill, and the father was sick in bed for months. 
 During all this time the whole burden came upon lit-
 
 The Newsboys. 19 
 
 tie Antonio, who is only twelve years old, and so very 
 slight you would think 4iim much younger. 
 
 But the brave lad at once " took in the situation," 
 and by rising early and working late, he managed to 
 earn enough each day from the sale of his papers to 
 support them all till father and mother were able to 
 work again. 
 
 Then there is little Joseph Dondaro, whose shrill 
 voice you may have heard on the corner last evening, 
 as he shouted his "Herald! Five o'clock!" He is a 
 tiny. boy, with jet-black eyes, hair to match, and a 
 nut-brown complexion that is not wholly due to dust 
 and tan. For Joe is of Jewish parentage, and a hard 
 life the little fellow has had ever since he can remem- 
 ber. His mother died about a year ago, and the 
 wretched drunkard he calls " father " is so cruel to 
 Joe and his little sister,* that the children were only 
 too glad when, some months since, he took his hand- 
 organ and, leaving the little ones to look after them- 
 selves, -wandered off into the country nobody knew 
 whither. 
 
 Since then Joe, with all the dignity of ten years, has 
 taken upon himself the entire responsibility, and tried 
 to fill the place of father and mother both to his little 
 sister, who is only six years old. 
 
 Upon an average he can earn by the sale of his
 
 20 Child Toilers. 
 
 papers three dollars a week j out of this sum he pays 
 for the rent of their one room on Endicott Street, 
 seventy-five cents per week, while the remainder 
 just think how small ! must feed and clothe them. 
 
 Down on North Margin Street is a neat brick 
 building known as the " School for Newsboys and 
 Bootbtacks," and here it was that I first saw little 
 Joseph. For, by the conditions of his license, every 
 minor, in our well-regulated city, is expected to attend 
 school at least two hours each day during the school 
 year. 
 
 Many of our public schools admit such pupils, and 
 I think the Eliot school alone contains some forty 
 newsboys; but as "two-hour" pupils need separate 
 classes, they cause, of course, a deal of irregularity 
 in graded schools ; and so, some ten years back, two 
 special schools one on North Margin Street, under 
 the charge of Miss Brackett, the other in East-street 
 Place, under Miss Tailor, were opened to give our 
 newsboys, boot-blacks, and little street-peddlers the 
 benefit of thorough instruction at such hours of the 
 day as would least interfere with their " trade." 
 
 Before the city fathers, however, had thought of 
 this excellent arrangement, certain kind ladies had 
 established, in the old church on Chauncy Street, a 
 free day school for these little street venders ; and
 
 THE NEWSBOY.
 
 The Newsboys. 23 
 
 had it not been for the benevolence, zeal, and success- 
 ful labors of those early workers, I doubt if the pres- 
 ent fine schools would ever have had an existence. 
 
 The school in East-street Place, which is composed 
 almost exclusively of newsboys, numbers between 
 twenty and thirty pupils, and is open from nine w 
 eleven in the morning, and from twelve till two in the 
 afternoon. Nearly all the boys here are of Irish 
 parentage, while in the school on North Margin 
 Street, which is somewhat larger, by far the greater 
 proportion are Italians. 
 
 It is an interesting sight to watch these little street 
 Arabs poring over their well-thumbed books ; and as 
 I studied their bright, intelligent faces, I couldn't help 
 thinking what a safeguard through the day these 
 precious two hours may be to them ! 
 
 For besides learning to " read, write and cipher," 
 the kind, judicious, Christian training they are con- 
 stantly receiving in these excellent schools is really of 
 more value to them than any amount of mere book 
 knowledge. 
 
 Here is a little fellow who was pronounced incor- 
 rigible when first brought in from the streets; but 
 patient instruction, and the kind, firm control of his 
 teacher, have already wrought such a change in him 
 that Johnny is now considered one of the brightest,
 
 24 Child Toilers. 
 
 best-behaved boys in the whole school. He and his 
 little brother Michael are both licensed newsboys, and 
 upon them depends the main support of the family, 
 for their father, too, is a miserable drunkard. 
 
 Questioning one after another, your heart aches for 
 these little " child toilers," who must needs learn so 
 early in life all the " rough and tumble " of this 
 strange, work-a-day world. Nevertheless, there is a 
 bright side to the picture, for, thrown upon their own 
 resources, and stimulated by the thought of weaker 
 ones who depend upon them, these little fellows early 
 develop a sturdy self-reliance, and a brave fortitude 
 that in after-life is of inestimable benefit to them. 
 
 Here, for instance, is little Robert Kelly, only 
 twelve years of age, who helps support a family of 
 eight persons. His father gets occasional jobs when 
 he can, at the coal wharves j but, after all, it is upon 
 little Robert that the steady maintenance depends. 
 At home, he is his mother's " right hand man " in 
 doing all sorts of chores; and at school his neat, tidy 
 appearance, and good conduct, are especially praise- 
 worthy. 
 
 Another boy, John Falvey, by name, is fourteen 
 years of age, and the oldest of four children. His 
 father is scarcely ever in a condition to earn anything, 
 and the mother, with her home cares, can do but
 
 The Newsboys. 25 
 
 little. So the support of the family comes upon John 
 and his youngest brother, who have bravely taken up 
 the burden together. These few instances might be 
 multiplied by a score of others ; but I think enough 
 have already been given, to show my readers how 
 much depends upon the labors of this class of little 
 men. 
 
 To be sure, their behavior upon the street, is not 
 always what it should be. Sometimes, I am sorry to 
 say, they are rude, noisy, and otherwise disagreeable 
 to passers-by. There is one sad picture that haunts 
 me as I write, and I wouldn't show it to my " Wide 
 Awake" readers, only that I want them to know all 
 about the temptations and dangers that beset our 
 little newsboys. One night, not long ago, a tiny lad, 
 not more than nine years old, was found must I 
 write the ugly words ? just beastly drunk, under the 
 steps in Williams Court! Perhaps it was his first 
 taste of the vile liquor at all events, let us hope it 
 will be the last but the lager beer wagons offer 
 great temptations to the hungry, thirsty boys, and I 
 fear that many of them are frequent customers. Bad 
 conduct on the street, however, is the exception, not 
 the rule, among our Boston newsboys. The bright 
 badge they wear upon their jackets, with their num- 
 ber and " Licensed " upon it, is in itself a guarantee
 
 26 Child Toilers. 
 
 of good behavior ; for before obtaining this from the 
 city government, the boys are on probation a certain 
 length -of time. If they prove worthy, and promise 
 faithfully to comply with the terms and conditions of 
 a " Minor's License ; " application is made for them, 
 by some responsible person, to the Board of Alder- 
 men j and in due course of time they receive their 
 license papers. Each boy has his own number, and 
 by the payment of one dollar, the silver badges are 
 given them, which they promise to wear conspicuously 
 in sight, and, on no condition, transfer, exchange, 
 borrow or lend. If at any time they wish to give up 
 their licenses, these badges are returned, and their 
 money is paid back to them. 
 
 Happening in, one day, at the office on Pemberton 
 Square, I watched with not a little interest, a group 
 of " candidates " as the boys are called before they 
 have received their badges. The little fellows eagerly 
 crowded round the officer's desk, each with his own 
 story to tell, and one after another they received their 
 license papers and bright silver badges. One boy, 
 who stood apart from the rest, had come to give up 
 his license and badge ; but as the latter was some- 
 what marred by careless usage, I noticed he received 
 but seventy-five cents for it. Another little urchin 
 who could hardly reach up to the desk on tip-toe, laid
 
 The Newsboys, 27 
 
 H| 
 
 down the two half dollars he had brought, and re- 
 ceived not only his badge but a silver quarter beside. 
 This greatly surprised and delighted him; but Mr. 
 Wright, who has charge of these matters and -is always 
 a kind friend to the boys, explained that the badge he 
 had given him, though " second-hand," would answer 
 every purpose, and the extra quarter was greatly 
 needed at home. Opening the big books where all 
 the boy's licenses or rather copies of them are 
 filed, one gets an insight into the workings of this ad- 
 -mirable system. " A gentleman came to me the other 
 day," said one of the officers in charge, and told me 
 how a certain newsboy had cheated him. " I had no 
 pennies," the gentleman went on to say, " but taking 
 one of the boy's papers, I handed him a twenty-five 
 cent piece which he ran around ttie corner to change. 
 Of course, that was the last of the boy and the twenty- 
 five now, sir, don't misunderstand me I don't 
 care for the missing change, but I do care for the 
 morals of your newsboys ! " 
 
 " Begging the gentleman to wait a few moments, I 
 looked over my books," said the officer, "found the 
 boy's number which the gentleman had noticed upon 
 his badge, and in the course of fifteen minutes the 
 lad stood before us. He hung down his head when 
 we began to question him, and I feared, at first, that
 
 28 , Child Toilers. 
 
 the boy was guilty; but the alacrity with which he 
 handed the gentleman his change, and his repeated 
 declarations that he ' came back to his stand just as 
 quick as he could, but the gentleman had gone,' quite 
 satisfied the latter, and we both concluded it was 
 better to let the little fellow go. But you can see by 
 this instance what kind of reins we hold over the 
 boys, and how quickly any misdemeanor on their part 
 renders them liable to forfeiture of ' license.' " 
 
 In selling papers, the old proverb holds true it is 
 the " early bird that gets the worm," and a deal of 
 competition is shown among these enterprising little 
 venders. 
 
 The several editions are hardly out of press, before 
 our newsboys are " on the spot ; " and Herald, Jour- 
 nal, Globe, Advertiser, Traveller, Times, Transcript, 
 and Post are sounded through the streets by three 
 hundred pairs of lungs, long before the ink is dry. 
 
 But if you want to see a genuine " rush," look into 
 Williams Court some afternoon between the hours of 
 three and four. For the " five o'clock edition," as it 
 is called, though really ready for distribution an hour 
 or two earlier, is the most important issue of the day ; 
 and the "hand to hand" scramble then, for the first 
 sheets as they come from the printers, is an exciting 
 scene, well worth witnessing.
 
 The Newsboys. 29 
 
 In the peculiar, weird light of the narrow Court, 
 the little urchins rushing, tumbling, screaming, hurry- 
 ing hither and thither, and reaching pell-mell one over, 
 the other, look more like little elves than actual chil- 
 dren ; but while you are wondering where they have 
 all come from, so suddenly, and why it is they do not 
 get into some inextricable tangle, there comes an 
 unexpected lull in another instant the court is 
 deserted, and up and down Washington street, on 
 Tremont Row, at the depots, the ferries, the different 
 street corners, the entrance to theatre, concert and 
 lecture rooms, on the horse-cars, the Common, the 
 gardens, the various public squares, the evening trains 
 no matter where you turn, the newsboy's shrill cry 
 pierces your brain. 
 
 'During "elections," the little fellows are frequently 
 up all night; and any "special" news matter, as a 
 great fire, a murder, or a disaster at sea, is always 
 locked upon as a windfall, because of the " extra " 
 sales it will bring. The Sunday papers all give them 
 a larger percentage of profit, than the dailies; but 
 through the week more Heralds are sold upon the 
 street than any other of our city journals. 
 
 It would be interesting if we could trace out the 
 histories of our little newsboys, as, one after another, 
 they outgrow their street occupations, and seek more 
 manly employments.
 
 30 Child Toilers. 
 
 Sometimes, they learn a trade, enter shops* or set 
 up business for themselves; and to one lad who has 
 proved himself especially worthy, I am told a fine 
 position has been given, in one of our leading news- 
 pnper establishments. The life of a newsboy, as you 
 see, is certainly one that is full of temptation, full of 
 hardship ; but always proves a good training school, 
 if right influences can -only be thrown about the
 
 Two MEMBERS OF THE "SHOVEL BRIGADE.''
 
 THE SHOVEL BRIGADE. 
 
 "1\ TY eyes, Mike! here's a job sure's fun ! Wake 
 1V1 up, old fellow, I say!" 
 
 " Heigho ! What's up, Jack ? " yawns sleepy Mike 
 from the farthest corner of the old mat that has 
 served them both for a bed. 
 
 "Big snowstorm reg'lar nor'easter foot and 
 half deep, and not a sidewalk shovelled yet ! Hurry 
 up, old Lazybones, or Teddy and Jim'll be ahead of 
 us!" 
 
 It is hardly light, and Jack, as he rubs off a corner 
 of the frosty pane, can see nothing in the street below 
 but one unbroken mass of pure white snow. How 
 pretty Ferry Court looks in its new dress ! Why ! 
 even the old ash-heaps, the refuse barrels, and the 
 broken bottles, stand out like so many groups of 
 carved marble. 
 
 33
 
 34 Child Toilers. 
 
 But that isn't what Jack is thinking about, as he 
 stands there at the window with hands in his pocket ! 
 The truth is, the little fellow is cold, hungry and 
 sleepy he was out last night till nearly midnight 
 selling newspapers, and though he wouldn't miss 
 these extra ''jobs "for the world, he doesn't quite 
 relish the idea of starting off without his breakfast. 
 
 " I say, Mike, do yer think they'll give us a bite at 
 the big house 'round the corner ? -" 
 
 " Like enough, Jack, there's a jolly fat cook there ! 
 but hold on a minute. It's dry snow just like 
 powder. We'll need the big broom and shovel both." 
 
 "All right. Start along, Slow-coach, I'll take one 
 and you take t'other." 
 
 And Jack, foremost in everything, leads off with 
 the great iron shovel shouldered like a musket, while 
 Mike, with the old twig broom, lags on behind. 
 
 Half way down the street they meet little Nicholas 
 Grasaro, who means to get a " job," too, before it is 
 time to give his customers a "shine." They are old 
 comrades the three boys, for though Nicholas is 
 only a boot-black not " up " in the newspaper trade 
 like Jack and Mike, they all belong to the same " fra- 
 ternity," and meet daily at the " Newsboys' and Boot- 
 blacks' School," down on North Margin Street. 
 
 Jack and Mike have the true -Irish brogue, but
 
 The Shovel Brigade. 35 
 
 Nicholas is an Italian boy, as you can tell at once 
 when you get a full look at his face. These extra 
 " jobs " he is always on the lookout for, at least, -he 
 well understands how much the extra pennies are 
 needed at home ; and I'm sure I don't know what 
 would become of the family if it were not for little 
 Nicholas. The poor father has long been helpless 
 from paralysis, and I fear he will never leave his bed 
 again. The mother tries to earn what she can, and 
 at one time she had a fruit-stand. But there are 
 many days when the sick man needs her constant 
 care, and Nicholas' little sister is hardly able to look 
 after the stand all by herself. 
 
 So they must depend upon what Nicholas can 
 earn ; and the " shines " notwithstanding the nice 
 place the little fellow has, down in Brattle Street 
 seldom "net" more than four dollars a week. An 
 extra job, therefore, is well worth the trouble of rising 
 an hour or two earlier to secure, and Nicholas knows 
 he will have beside what poor Jack and Mike know 
 nothing about a warm welcome when he gets 
 back! 
 
 But the clock has struck seven, and the boys' 
 tracks in the snow are already followed by larger and 
 heavier ones. 
 
 " We mustn't let the city men git ahead of us 1 "
 
 36 Child Toilers. 
 
 shouts Jack, as he makes a bee line to the "big house 
 'round the corner." 
 
 A ring at the area bell, a smiling assent from the 
 jolly-faced cook, and Jack and Mike begin work in 
 good earnest. 
 
 " I say, though, didn't that steak smell bunkum, 
 Mike ? " 
 
 "Yis, and the coffee what steamed on the stove! 
 Let's hurry up and p'raps we'll get a smack ! I won- 
 der how Nick gets along with that one little shovel of 
 his ? Let's lend him a hand if we git through first." 
 
 Jack demurs a little at Mike's las't proposition, but 
 scrapes on with dogged persistency. 
 
 " Whew ! it make's a fellow's fingers ache, though ! " 
 exclaimed Mike, as he stops a moment to blow vigor- 
 ously upon the purple tips. If he hadn't looked up 
 just then he wouldn't have seen the tall beaver. But 
 look up he did, and there was the tempting target ! 
 Quick as a flash the broom was dropped, the snow- 
 ball fired, and off rolled the new beaver way across 
 the street, on a revolving tour of exploration. And 
 off started the repentant little Arab, the very same 
 instant, in hot pursuit ! I'm glad to say he didn't 
 take the offered dime from unsuspecting young Har- 
 vard, for it was pure mischief nothing else that 
 prompted this sudden episode.
 
 The Shovel Brigade. 37 
 
 All up and down the street, on either side, the 
 Shovel Brigade are now busily at work. Yes, and all 
 the neighboring streets, too, are alive with these ani- 
 mated silhouettes for just like shadow pictures the 
 black figures stand out on the white background ! 
 
 If you open your window and listen, the scraping 
 shovel, the swirring brooms, and the occasional thuds 
 of snow sound, in the crisp electric atmosphere, not 
 unlike the chords of a distant " street band." 
 
 Here and there you will note the bright badge of 
 some wide-awake policeman, who is on the lookout 
 for neglected sidewalks; for although it is a well- 
 known regulation in our good city that, if a snow- 
 storm comes at night, every pavement must be clear 
 before nine o'clock the next morning, there are some 
 sleepy households that need constant reminders. 
 Should, the snow come in the daytime it must, accord- 
 ing to law, be removed in the space of an hour after 
 it has stopped falling an excellent rule, if it were 
 only carried out ; but often the work is delayed, or 
 so poorly done that treacherous spots are left, and 
 many serious accidents occur in consequence. 
 
 Jack and Mike, however, have finished their " job " 
 in the most approved style this morning. To be 
 sure, in spite of its depth, it was a light snow dry, 
 feathery, and far easier to remove than the wet, heavy
 
 38 Child Toilers. 
 
 snows that sometimes come ; but the boys are faith- 
 ful little fellows, and whether the work be light or 
 heavy, they always do their " level best." That is 
 why the owner of the big house was so ready to 
 employ them this morning ; he watched them from 
 the window last time, and rerrfembers how well they 
 managed the troublesome drifts that blew around the 
 corner. He is a kind-hearted man, and Jack is not 
 doomed to disappointment this morning ; the jolly- 
 faced cook has orders to have a good hot breakfast 
 all ready for them when the work is done ; and then, 
 besides, there is a bright silver dime waiting on the 
 table for each of them. 
 
 Little Nicholas is just as hungry and just as deserv- 
 ing, but all he receives for his hard v/ork is a nickel 
 five cent piece ! Well, that, to be sure, is better than 
 nothing it will buy a loaf of bread at the baker's 
 round the block ; but why couldn't the thoughtless 
 millionaire have opened his heavy purse a bit wider to 
 poor little Nicholas ? 
 
 The boy cannot bear to go home with this meagre 
 sum ; so, while Jack and Mike are feasting in the warm 
 kitchen, he looks about for another "job." This 
 time he is more fortunate ; a sweet-faced old lady 
 taps on the window to him, for she has seen his faith- 
 ful labor across the way somebody always sees
 
 The Shovel Brigade. 39 
 
 faithful labor sooner or later, and Nicholas' black 
 eyes fairly dance when she offers him twenty-five 
 cents for cleaning steps, pavement and upper 
 balcony. 
 
 Two hours' later the boys, rather tired, to be sure, 
 after their, hard morning's work* but all aglow with 
 exercise and excitement combined, meet in the little 
 school-room and compare notes with their comrades. 
 
 They are a whole hour late, and all truancy or un- 
 necessary tardiness is always punished as it deserves ; 
 but this morning the kind teacher is quite ready to 
 excuse them, for she knows all about " her boys," 
 and is as glad as they are when these extra jobs 
 come, and they can carry home a few extra pennies. 
 
 I have given you a peep into two of these homes ' } 
 Would you like to see another? Come then with- 
 Louis, another little Italian boy, who has earned fifty 
 cents this morning by " shoveling " and " shining " 
 both. He is in a hurry to tell the good news, and 
 scampers up the four rickety flights, two steps at a 
 time. 
 
 It is one of the darkest, dingiest, most unwhole- 
 some rooms in the whole tenement, but it is all the 
 home that Louis knows anything about. A rusty 
 cooking-stove, with clothes drying on the line just 
 over it, an old mattrass in the corner, a table with the
 
 40 Child Toilers. 
 
 remains of cold potatoes, maccaroni, etc., still upon 
 it, one or two broken chairs, and the baby's cradle, 
 make up the furniture of the room. 
 
 But five little children, ranging all the way from 
 six months upward, fill whatever empty spaces are 
 left, and unless you step carefully you may tread on 
 some of the little creatures ! The mother, who is 
 mending a tiny garment while its owner is asleep, 
 welcomes Louis with a sunny smile. No matter how 
 tired or discouraged she is, there always seems to be 
 a rich fund of love in this mother's heart for each and 
 all of her little brood. 
 
 The father it is the same old story, but just as 
 sad nevertheless, loves his bottle better than he 
 does his helpless family : and Louis, ever since he 
 was a wee baby, has seen so much of the misery 
 caused by strong drink, that I hope he will take warn- 
 ing and never touch it himself. 
 
 That bright half-dollar! How the mother's eyes 
 glisten as Louis twirls it on the table and asks her 
 what he shall buy first! A hard question surely, 
 when so many things are needed ; but hunger is the 
 loudest call after all, and there are a dozen eager 
 mouths all waiting to be fed. Louis will earn an- 
 other " fifty " perhaps, at his stand this afternoon ; 
 but unexpected jobs, like the morning shoveling, will
 
 The Shovel Brigade. 41 
 
 always seem like especial "god-sends." 
 
 Just think how many miles of payement, all within 
 the limits of the city, have been traveled to-day by 
 this indefatigable Shovel Brigade ; yet there is a deal 
 ef "after work " still, for the crow-bar and pick-ax- 
 recruits. These last are generally strong, able-bodied 
 men employed by the city authorities ; and there is 
 scarcely a day after the first snow comes when you 
 will not find them at work somewhere. Often the 
 horse-car tracks become clogged, or the gutters need 
 attention. Then, the snow itself, after it is shovelled 
 from the pavements must be carted, or rather sledded 
 off ; and this work gives employment to a large num- 
 ber of men and boys throughout the winter months. 
 
 Truly it is an " ill wind " that blows nobody any 
 good," and when these driving snowstorms come, 
 spoiling the skating for so many boys and blocking 
 the trains, let us remember Jack and Mike, Nicholas, 
 Louis and all their little comrades, and the men with 
 families who are eagerly waiting for a " job," and al- 
 ways hail the " falling skies " with undisguised de- 
 light.
 
 THE LITTLE ASH-PICKERS. 
 
 Did you ever put your hand into a " grab-bag " 
 If so, you know just how little Rosa feels as, 
 standing on tip-toe, she pokes her long stick down into 
 the ashes ! 
 
 There are just fifty of them great, dusty, ugly bar- 
 rels waiting with open mouths on each side of the 
 open alley-way between Boylston and Newbury Streets, 
 and Rosa with her hook and her bag is the very first 
 one " on the spot " this morning. By and by the city 
 carts will come, but just now the field is all her own, 
 and the little girl goes to work with an energy worthy 
 some better employment. 
 
 " Hullo ! What's this ? " 
 
 An old coffee-pot, sure enough, with the handle 
 knocked off 1 Rosa looks it all over, taps it with her 
 knuckles, holds it up to the light, and considers. The 
 42
 
 The Little Ash-Pickers. 43 
 
 bottom is sound, the cover tight. Yes, it is a deal 
 better than the old one at home, so she tucks it into 
 the old tow bag, and pokes again. Dear me ! what 
 a fumbling there is this time ! The little red hood is 
 all enveloped in dust as Rosa draws out, one after 
 the other, a pair of old, battered boots, minus every 
 button. But, beating out the ashes, she shoves her 
 little bare feet into the discarded French kids, and 
 pronounces them a " perfect fit." She will find plenty 
 of buttons before she gets through with those fifty 
 barrels, and with big needle and stout thread the little 
 cobbler knows she can make the old boots " most as 
 good as new. " 
 
 It is the bits of half-burned coal that she came out 
 so early for this morning breakfast can't be cooked 
 till she brings her bag home but coffee-pots arid 
 boots are not to be found every day, and Rosa is on 
 the lookout now for new treasures. Here is an old 
 hat that will do for little Tony ; and away down to the 
 bottom of barrel number five gleam the shining sides 
 of an old copper boiler ! With furtive glances up and 
 down the alley, Rosa seizes this last " find," crams it 
 into her bag, and scuffles off around the corner as 
 fast as her heavy load and her new boots will allow. 
 A copper boiler ! Just think what luck ! Why, it's a 
 regular " bonanza '' at least, so the old junk dealers
 
 44 Child Toilers. 
 
 say, and who should know better than they? Perhaps 
 you wonder, as I did, what possible use could be made 
 of an old boiler with the bottom burned off. It's a se- 
 cret of the trade, but I will tell you, for that pretty gal- 
 vanized coal-hod by the grate knows the whole story ! 
 " Once upon a time " it was would you believe it ? 
 an old dilapidated boiler itself ! But from ash-barrel 
 to junk-shop, from furnace to hard-ware, it has gone so 
 far up in the social scale that now even the stiff poker 
 and tongs are quite willing to keep company with it. 
 
 There is a heavy clatter down in the alleyway now, 
 for the city carts have come ; and trudging just be- 
 hind is a little tatterdemalion with an old basket on 
 his arm. He helps the men put back the empty bar- 
 rels, and for this service they let him look over the 
 rubbish before it is thrown into the big blue carts. 
 But little Rosa, as you and I know, has already had 
 the " first pick," of five barrels, and Billy wonders he 
 doesn't find much of anything for a while but bits of 
 coal which Rosa hadn't time to take. Billy, by the 
 way, is a famous little coal picker. Down by the 
 wharves and the freight depots, he finds so many 
 pieces that he doesn't have to depend upon the refuse 
 of ash barrels ; although I see he -is very ready to 
 take whatever he caa find here. 
 
 One morning, just about light, there was an alarm
 
 The Litik Ash Pickers. 45 
 
 of fire that started Billy to his feet at once. Now 
 you must know that to run after the big " Steamer " 
 is one of Billy's greatest delights ; but his passion for 
 picking up coal is still greater, and hose wagon, 
 steamer and all, were suddenly deserted that morning 
 for a tempting ' dump," that caught his keen eye as 
 he scampered down the street. An hour later, when 
 the firemen came back, Billy's old basket was heaped 
 to the brim, and I don't know but the enterprising 
 little fellow will " set up trade " for himself, since he 
 finds he can sell his coal for twenty cents a bushel. 
 
 Perhaps my Wide Awake readers are wondering 
 what the " dump" is, vthere Billy lays in his stock. 
 
 Down by the Albany depot, in various vacant lots 
 throughout the city, and over in East Boston, there 
 are certain places where the city carts regularly de- 
 posit their contents. These forlorn heaps of debris 
 are the so-called ''dumps" and men, women and chil- 
 dren may be seen busily at work here almost any 
 hour of the day. Some collect old bones that they 
 sell at half a cent a pound ; others take only paper 
 rags ; and here is the little fellow who is on the look 
 out for bits of old iron. 
 
 It is curious to notice how much honor for each 
 other's specialties there is among this ragged crowd. 
 Every bag is as secure from pilfering as if it were un-
 
 46 Child Toilers. 
 
 der lock and key ; and any man, woman or child, who 
 dares trespass on somebody's else " dump" is looked 
 upon as no better than a sneak and a thief. 
 
 There seems to be scarcely anything in these mot- 
 ley heaps that is not put to some use. Even old hair 
 combings are straightened out and made into puffs, 
 curls, frizzes, and nobody knows what ! Old bot- 
 tles find a market, too, and bits of leather, wood and 
 rope are always carefully gathered up. Sometimes, 
 gold and silver coins, spoons, forks, rings, watch- 
 charms, and various other pieces of jewelry, are 
 found ; but it is not often that such articles reach the 
 "dump" even when through carelessness they find 
 their way into ash barrels. 
 
 There are many wonderful stories told ; but, after 
 all, it is by the careful " gathering up of fragments " 
 not by any special "luck" that these ash-pickers 
 manage, sometimes, to get sixteen and twenty dollars a 
 week just from their " pickings ! " 
 
 In a single season nine tons of coal were collected 
 at the East Boston dumps, and this is but one item 
 among many. 
 
 Here is a ragged old man with his wheelbarrow 
 and empty bags ; let us follow him and see what he 
 will find to-day. Little Tommy, only nine years old, 
 is his constant companion, and I don't know what
 
 The Little Ash-Pickers. 47 
 
 the old man would do without the bright eyes and 
 nimble fingers of this tiny boy. 
 
 " I say, daddy, we'll have to hurry, for I can hear 
 the big carts coming; there's lots going to the 
 ' dump ' to-day ! " 
 
 "Pley?" 
 
 And the old man puts his hand to his ear as 
 Tommy repeats in a higher sharper key the warning 
 words. It is evident he hears this time, for the jog 
 trot is suddenly quickened, and it is as much as 
 Tommy can do to keep pace with the rattling, squeak- 
 ing wheelbarrow. They are just in time to have the 
 first " haul," and wit-h miser-like delight the old man 
 crams into one bag every rag and scrap of paper he 
 can find, while Tommy's smutty fingers are gathering 
 up the coal. 
 
 But look ! there is still another bag in the wheel- 
 barrow yes, two more, that they mean to carry back 
 " chuck full." Into one goes all sorts of rusty nails, 
 old screws, broken locks, bits of wire, iron filings, 
 etc. ; into the other is crammed anything that can be 
 converted into firewood, such as old cigar and fruit 
 boxes, pieces of rotten shingles, laths, chips, no 
 matter what, so long as it can come under the head 
 of "kindlings." 
 
 You sec the old man understands " business;" he
 
 48 Child Toilers. 
 
 sorts out his findings with as much care and method 
 as a salesman arranges his new goods on shelves and 
 counters. A sharp cuff on the ear, and Tommy sud- 
 denly remembers that he has made a mistake. The 
 old man has found two iron nails in his " paper bag," 
 and such carelessness is altogether too much for any 
 ash-picker's patience. Tommy hangs down his head, 
 whimpers a little, and then goes to work again with 
 tingling ears, but a better memory. 
 
 All' day long they keep at work, wheeling the bar- 
 row back and forth, till it grows too dark to pick up 
 even coal. And when I tell you that for three whole 
 years the old man and Tommy have worked together 
 in this way, at this same old dump in East Boston, I 
 think you will understand how it is they have been 
 able not only to earn a living but to lay up pennies 
 for a rainy day. 
 
 At one time, the neighbors used to notice a little 
 girl in man's hat and coat, who worked at a part of 
 the dump not far from the old man and Tommy. 
 Poor child! if you could have seen her and the 
 wretched place she called home, I know you would 
 have pitied and longed to help her. I believe she 
 ran away, at last, from the cruel woman who beat her 
 without mercy, and drove her out to work at the 
 "dump," no matter how cold or how stormy the 
 weather might be.
 
 THB LITTLE ASH-PICKER.
 
 Tue Little Ash Pickers. 51 
 
 Sometimes the truant officers find dozens of chil- 
 dren here among the ash-heaps in school hours ; in- 
 deed it is a frequent excuse with a certain class when 
 Ihey are late, or absent from school for a number of 
 days, that they " hadn't no coal t'home, and so they 
 had to go to the " dump" There is one little girl, 
 I've forgotten her name who actually picked up 
 all the coal used by the family from April till Novem- 
 ber. 
 
 Down on Church Green, on the right hand side as 
 you leave Summer Street, are a number of old junk 
 shops that are well- worth a visit. Here it is that 
 many of our little ash pickers find a market for their 
 " treasures ; " and I'm going to give you a pict- 
 ure of one just as I saw it, not a great while ago. 
 
 The door was wide open, and the little, dark, low 
 room was just packed way to the ceiling and way 
 to the sidewalk with all manner of outlandish 
 things. There were all sorts of broken tools, rusty 
 bolts, nuts, chains, parts of iron railings, old kettles, 
 pans, horse shoes, etc. ; then there were great tow 
 bags crammed so full of paper rags that half of their 
 many-colored contents were scattered on the floor, 
 a.nd thinking of the mischief a single match might do 
 here I didn't wonder the junk dealer had hung up 
 in a conspicuous place the warning words, "No 
 smoking allowed." There was only a narrow space
 
 52 did Toilers. 
 
 left just in the middle of the room, and even here 
 you could scarcely take a step without treading upon 
 something. 
 
 A short distance from this junk shop is another, 
 where one window is rilled with tailor "chips," and 
 reading the sign over the door you will see that this 
 shop makes a specialty of "paper stock." A little 
 farther on and you will find a "Black and White 
 Smith," whose doorway is curiously decorated with 
 old iron cables, broken anchors, rusty kettles, pans, 
 and old, old things I had never seen before " on sea 
 or land." 
 
 They tell me these old junk dealers make heaps of 
 money out of the seeming rubbish brought to them by 
 the ash pickers ; and I think it is easy to understand 
 when we consider how many things in daily use are 
 made from this same old "junk." 
 
 For our pretty superfine stationery, our books, yes, 
 even the pages of " Wide Awake," maybe, are made 
 from the motley " paper stock ; " while from bits of 
 melted glass come our window panes, and our lamp 
 shades ; and as to the old rusty metal, why, all man- 
 ner of kitchen furniture is made from that ! Truly 
 the little ash-pickers and the old junk dealers ought 
 to have their reward, for they help not a little in car- 
 rying out that twice-repeated command to "gather up 
 the fragments that nothing may be lost."
 
 THE FRUIT-VENDERS. 
 
 SHE was selling grapes the first time I saw her, 
 great purple bunches that looked so tempting 
 I didn't wonder half her stock was gone, though it 
 was still early in the day. Such a happy face as it 
 was under the old brown hat ! It had been a very 
 successful day, and little Amelia had "good news" to 
 carry home. 
 
 By-and-by I'm going to tell you all about her home, 
 her good auntie, and the little cousins who seemed to 
 her like brothers and sisters ; but, first of all, I want 
 to give you a picture of little Amelia herself. 
 
 Perched on her rough board seat, you will find her 
 almost any day at her special corner, which is far 
 down on " new " Washington Street. 
 
 You know a deal is said, now-a-days, about the " nui- 
 sance " of these street stands ; but I don't believe any 
 skittish horse ever took fright at this innocent little 
 
 53
 
 54 
 
 Child Toilers. 
 
 fruit tray. O, it takes up such a " wee bit " of room 
 at the broad corner ! And, as to interfering with the 
 trade of the big fruit stores why ! what are the few 
 cents our little girl earns at her stand, compared to 
 the sales made every day by confectioners, corner 
 grocers, provision merchants, and a host of others 
 who do not call themselves " fruit dealers " at all 1 
 O, Consistency, thou art a jewel, a rare jewel ! 
 
 But little Amelia doesn't mean to borrow any 
 trouble. Nobody disturbed her yesterday, and no- 
 body has disturbed her to-day. Really, that tip end 
 of Washington and Elm Streets seems as much her 
 very own as if she had in her pocket the " warranty 
 deed" for it, all signed and witnessed. 
 
 " And a very good corner it is," she says to her- 
 self, remembering how many people, on their way to 
 the Boston and Maine depot, stop just here for a half 
 dozen oranges, a couple of lemons, or a nice ripe ba- 
 nana to eat on the way. 
 
 Sometimes, she can make five dollars a week, but 
 that is only when the weather is fine. 
 
 Come with me away down to the North End and I 
 will show you what becomes of all those precious pen- 
 nies that little Amelia picks up at the " corner." 
 
 Such a rickety id tenement house as it used to 
 be ! But now, a >ore manly landlord has cleansed
 
 The Fruit- Venders. 5 5 
 
 and put into repair this miserable building, and we 
 need not be afraid to-day to go up the new clean 
 stairway. Two rooms, as neat as neat can be, with a 
 few pictures on the four walls, the commonest of 
 prints to be sure, but pretty pictures for all that ; a 
 nicely scoured floor, a few hard chairs, and a bed in 
 one corner of the larger room where Amelia's uncle, 
 a helpless cripple, lies all day long. This is the home 
 to which our little fruit girl is so eager to carry the 
 news of a successful day. Her own father, in a fit of 
 despondency, shot himself ; and then there followed 
 long weary days and weeks when the poor mother, 
 utterly discouraged and heart-broken, grew paler, 
 thinner, weaker, until at last, death came with its 
 longed-for rest, and little Amelia was left without fa- 
 ther or mother all alone in the wide world! 
 
 Well, the good auntie, who, with a helpless hus- 
 band and four little children dependent upon her, 
 had found ways and means to care for her sick sis- 
 ter, now opened heart and home to poor little Amelia. 
 
 So, ever since her mother's death she has never 
 known what it was to be without some one to love 
 and care for her, and that, I think, is one secret of 
 her bright happy face ; for, if there is only " love at 
 home," we can always work with a light heart and 
 willing hands.
 
 56 Child Toilers. 
 
 This fruit stand that Amelia and her auntie tend 
 alternately, is the sole means of support of the whole 
 family. And when we stop to think of the seven hun- 
 gry mouths to feed, and the rent not less than eight 
 dollars a month that must be paid for their rooms 
 down on Mechanic Street, it is very easy to see what 
 becomes of all the bright pennies. 
 
 Such a brave, cheerful spirit as this noble-hearted 
 woman has shown, ever since the sad accident that 
 crippled her hard-working husband. He was a gar- 
 dener, she tells me, upon a gentleman's place in Som- 
 erville, and one day when pruning trees, he fell in 
 such a way upon the sharp instruments that his spine 
 was very badly hurt. That was four or five years 
 ago and he has not been able to do a day's work 
 since, indeed, I doubt if he is ever able to do any- 
 thing more, but patient Mrs. Vicarro never com- 
 plains of her hard lot. 
 
 "God has taken care of us," she says, "and I am 
 just as sure as can be He always will ! " 
 
 To give her husband eveiy possible comfort and to 
 keep a pleasant home for the little ones, has been her 
 chief desire, and she has worked hard to obtain it. 
 At first, she took in washing and ironing, but that was 
 never so profitable as the fruit stand has been. For, 
 among the Italians in Boston there are a number who
 
 The Fruit- Venders. 57 
 
 are able to club together and obtain large. quantities 
 of fruit at very low prices. 
 
 The shrewdest one in the little circle is deputed to 
 make the daily purchase. Much of the fruit is ob- 
 tained directly of the importers at the wharves, who 
 carefully assort it ; that which is likely to keep only 
 a short time, being sold to the agents of the street 
 venders at far lower prices than the fruit stores pay 
 for the carefully selected fruits. 
 
 North Market Street is also a busy scene early in 
 the morning, many of the little fruit-sellers resorting 
 thither to buy their daily stock-in-trade. 
 
 " And I've always found good friends," says Mrs. 
 Viccaro, whose cheery face fairly beamed as she 
 told me how they had been helped over the " hard 
 places." 
 
 As I write, another picture comes up before me. 
 
 It is late in the afternoon, and a ray of the bright 
 golden sunset streams into the narrow court and rests 
 lovingly upon a rough box of house plants, high up 
 on the brick wall. In one window is a large English 
 ivy, so green and thrifty I know its owner loves and 
 cares for what is beautiful, but with this exception 
 just see how forlorn and dreary it is this misera- 
 ble, filthy Court ! 
 
 There are all sorts of broken things scattered
 
 58 Child Toilers. 
 
 about, and. in one corner an old umbrella man is look- 
 ing- over his " stock in trade." Babies in arms, and 
 little creatures just big enough to toddle about, crowd 
 together upon the dirty steps, while their mothers 
 strive to catch a breath of fresh air, and do their 
 week's mending at the same time. Old grand- 
 mothers are here, too, with funny looking caps ; and 
 out of every window, almost, there are two or three 
 unkempt heads peering down on the scene below. 
 
 And oh, such a jabbering from top to bottom ! Of 
 course, it is all in Italian ; even the babies don't seem 
 to cry like other children. And there is one little 
 black-eyed morsel with arms and feet strapped down 
 to a board like an Indian pappoose, I was going to 
 say ; but, dear me, it looks more like an Egyptian 
 mummy ! 
 
 " Her make straight," says the proud little mother 
 in broken Italian. 
 
 The baby looks up at us with eyes so big and so 
 black and so round and so wise that we haven't a 
 word to say. But when little Rosanna comes run- 
 ning to us with her basket of fruit, we can better un- 
 derstand what makes the ten-year-old child so very 
 small and slight for her age. And did you ever see 
 an Italian boy or girl that was not under size ? Poor 
 little creatures ! This curious custom may possibly
 
 LITTLE AMELIA.
 
 . The Fruit- Venders, 6 1 
 
 * 
 
 help to make them straight and supple, but, hindering 
 all muscular movement for months and months, how 
 it must retard their growth and strength in every 
 way. 
 
 Rosanna Vorpiano ! Isn't that a musical name ? 
 And doesn't the child look as if she had just stepped 
 out of a "genre" picture? Her old checked ging- 
 ham dress is partly covered by a little apron, tied be- 
 hind with an old shoe-string; and the buttons on her 
 dress, as diverse in^ color and __ shape as " Joseph's 
 coat," give a very funny effect as she turns suddenly 
 round into the broad light. It is a warm day, but she 
 has thrown over her tight jet braids an old knitted 
 hood black and purple, and the frizzy curls that 
 blow about her forehead look like so many imps that 
 have come out to frolic with her roguish black eyes. 
 
 As she stands there, leaning against the steps with 
 that old basket on her arm, half-filled with bright red 
 apples, I long to put her upon canvas. ^ 
 
 She has made fifty cents to-day, can't you hear 
 the dimes jingling in her pocket, and to-morrow she 
 means to start very, very early to market. 
 
 Up and down Tremont and Washington Streets, 
 through Temple Place, Winter, Bromfield Street, 
 up long flights of stairs into offices and " composing 
 rooms," and into scores of close rooms that swarm
 
 62 Child Toilers. . 
 
 with heated and thirsty toilers, wherever she can 
 find a customer little Rosanna goes, up and down, 
 up and down, all day long. She doesn't aspire to a 
 " stand " yet ; thinks she would like to go to school ; 
 but I'm much afraid this roving sort of street-life 
 will bring out all the " gypsey " in our little Italian 
 girl and utterly unfit her for any kind of study. 
 
 Oh ! there is so much want and suffering all about 
 us ! Do my " WIDE AWAKE " readers realize, I won- 
 der, how many of their brothers and sisters are toiling, 
 all day long, just for a place to lay their head and a 
 bit of bread to eat ! Amelia and Rosanna are not 
 imaginary characters, what I have told you about 
 them is true all through ! and then there are so 
 many others like them ! Alike, and yet different, 
 too ; for each of the three hundred fruit stands, scat- 
 tered about our Boston streets, and every little basket 
 peddler, have a story " all their own." 
 
 And did you ever notice what a variety there is in 
 the stands themselves ? Sometimes you will find 
 them nicely painted, green seems to be the favor- 
 ite color and, very often, the tray is placed on 
 wheels so that it can be easily carried about. Then 
 there is the big broad basket with its flat cover that 
 serves for a table, while the under part is used as a 
 sort of refrigerator. This is certainly more picturesque
 
 The Fruit- Venders. 63 
 
 than the wooden tray, but I don't believe it is half as 
 convenient. 
 
 One day I watched with a deal of interest the 
 " setting up of a stand " on the Common. It was a 
 very modest affair two little saw-horses, and just 
 a rough board thrown across, but everything was 
 arranged in " apple pie " order. There was a nice 
 white cloth to cover the uneven planks, and then, one 
 after another, the little hand baskets were emptied of 
 their contents. Of course, every apple and pear was 
 duly polished with a bit of rag before it was laid on 
 the cloth ; and, somehow, the biggest and fairest al- 
 ways found their way to the top. 
 
 At the main entrance to the Common, on Charles 
 Street, is an old woman whose weather-beaten face 
 shows a long apprenticeship in that trade. On cold 
 days she protects herself from the bleak east winds 
 by a wide long strip of black enamel cloth, which she 
 fastens to the high fence just behind her ; and a very 
 nice background it makes for her odd little stand and 
 her picturesque self. As the weather changes from 
 biting cold to scorching heat, old umbrellas are sub- 
 stituted; but, no matter what the season may be, 
 our fruit venders .will always be found at their 
 posts. 
 
 To the passers-by, it may seem an idle, romantic
 
 64 Child Toilers. 
 
 sort of life ; but they know nothing of the hard labor 
 done at home, night and morning, to give this leisure 
 through the day. In little baskets and crates and 
 carts and wheelbarrows, all the unsoM fruit is carried 
 home every night ; and every morning it must be car- 
 ried to the " stand," and polished and re-arranged. 
 And many are the stockings and mittens that have 
 been knit by these indefatigable little women, while 
 waiting for customers. 
 
 The constant exposure to all sorts of weather ren- 
 ders the fruit-vender's life anything but a desirable 
 one ; still, to a large class of deserving poor, it offers 
 one means of earning an honest livelihood. And, 
 while these modest little stands do not interfere with 
 public travel, it does seem as if our good city ought 
 both to protect and to patronize them.
 
 THE BOOTBLACKS. 
 
 "T_T AVE a ' shine,' mister ? Only five cents ! " 
 
 A A It is a very small voice from a very small 
 boy, and there, is such a crowd hurrying to and fro 
 that little Fred can hardly make himself heard. 
 
 But he has his regular customers who know just 
 where to find him and who pay him twenty-five cents 
 a week. And then that particular corner of his, down 
 on Hanover and Blackstone Streets, is such a good 
 stand that the little fellow seldom fails to earn forty 
 or fifty cents each day. Sometimes, on Sundays, he 
 can make from a dollar to a dollar and a half ; but 
 then these are always considered " red letter days " 
 for the whole bootblack brigade. 
 
 Paul, an older brother, has a stand on Causeway 
 
 65
 
 66 Child Toilers. 
 
 Street, and you would have laughed to see how the 
 two boys managed when they first " set up trade." 
 
 Of course there were the license papers and the 
 bright silver badges (just like the newsboys' I told 
 you about ) that they had to get from the city. But 
 then, there was a great deal more to be done before 
 they were ready to give. their customers a "shine." 
 
 A rough pine box, that was the beginning of the 
 " stock in trade " and since they both wanted one 
 the two boys started off together. 
 
 " I say, Fred, let's go down to the ' tobaker ' store 
 on Causeway Street," suggested bright, black-eyed 
 Paul. " Mebbe we'll find something there ! " 
 
 " All right ! " shouted Fred. " And lookee here 
 why not take a big long feller and go halves ? " 
 
 Now, it does seem strange that an empty box 
 should have cost the boys a single penny, but I know 
 they had to pay ten cents for the particular piece of 
 lumber Fred selected ; and when they had sawed it 
 in two, the next thing in order was to have a wooden 
 shoe, or rather a " last," put upon each half. 
 
 With a good box of carpenter's tools they might, 
 perhaps, have done the work themselves ; but to try 
 it with a jack-knife was about as hopeless a job as the 
 old woman undertook when she tried to whittle down 
 a crow-bar into a knitting-needle. Lo, another ten
 
 The Bootblacks, 67 
 
 cents or rather twenty cents, for you see there were 
 two boxes to be mounted, was paid to the old shoe- 
 maker who had done the job for other bootblacks, 
 dozens of times before. 
 
 "Ain't it nice, though?" exclaimed Paul, as he 
 drew his little brown hand over the smooth white 
 last. 
 
 And, really, it did begin to look like business when 
 the boys fastened the leather straps to their neat 
 little boxes, slung them across their shoulders, and 
 marched down Hanover Street merrily whistling 
 " Mulligan Guards." 
 
 Now, for the blacking. Should they patronize Bix- 
 by, Day & Martin, or that new firm with the unpro- 
 nounceable name ? It was a hard question to de- 
 cide j but as Fred insisted that the latter was the 
 best, all the boys said so ! Paul yielded the point, 
 and for three cents each the boxes of blacking were 
 bought and pocketed. 
 
 "A ' dauber,' next ! hurrah for a ' dauber ' ! " shouted 
 Paul. 
 
 " And a ' shiner,' too ! " added Fred, as they 
 counted out the last of the bright pennies their fond, 
 hard-working mother had given them for " capital." 
 
 " Dear me ! it will take every one," sighed Paul ; 
 '' but then, we must have 'em ! "
 
 68 Child Toilers. 
 
 " Of course we must ! " echoed Fred. " And then, 
 you see, they'll last O, forever ! " 
 
 Paul, however, examines the brushes very carefully 
 before parting with those precious pennies. "For 
 sometimes, you know," he whispered to Fred, " they 
 do cheat a feller awfully with old moth-eaten things." 
 
 Forty cents for the " shiner," a few cents less for 
 the " dauber," and now their stock in trade is com- 
 plete. No, not quite ; for they must each have a 
 bit of carpeting, the careful mother says, to save the 
 knees of their trowsers. This, however, needn't cost 
 them a penny, for she has found two strips that will be 
 just the thing. Yes, and here are two little over- 
 alls, dark blue and snuff brown, that they can draw 
 right over their jackets. Dear me ! how I wish all 
 our little bootblacks had good thoughtful mothers 
 like Mrs. Anato. 
 
 But Fred and Paul are more highly favored than 
 most of their comrades. In spite of poverty, they 
 have a home and a father and mother to love and 
 care for them ; while here is Antonio Deveroni, 
 brought up in a bar-room ; and little Frank Donclaro, 
 whose mother is dead and whose father is just a 
 wretched drunkard. 
 
 I want to tell you, by the way, more of Antonio ; 
 and if you would like to know how he looks, just
 
 The Bootblacks. 69 
 
 imagine Dickens' "Fat Boy," with jet-black hair 
 banged over his forehead, and those great, liquid, 
 Italian eyes, that have just about the same expression 
 in them, as a big Newfoundland dog's. Antonio's 
 stand for blacking boots is down on South Market 
 Street, and his home is in Ferry Court. But I always 
 think of him just as I saw him at the North Margin 
 Street school. 
 
 He was nearly an hour late, and came creeping 
 or rather rolling in, with a downcast, crestfallen 
 look. 
 
 " Job ! " was the only excuse he had to offer, 
 and I'm afraid it wasn't any excuse at all ; for, if he 
 began sawing wood at eight o'clock as he said, there 
 was no reason in the world why he couldn't have left 
 off when school-time came. The truth is, he is a lazy 
 boy and doesn't like to study. But the few, firm, 
 kind words from Mr. Wright, the city officer, who 
 was waiting for the tardy boys, did far more good than 
 any amount of scolding or whipping could have done. 
 And I don't believe Antonio will be " behind time " 
 again, for a very, very long while. 
 
 Stupid and indolent, he is withal so good-natured, 
 kind-hearted and generous, that he is a great favorite 
 with the boys ; and really, there is the making of a 
 noble man in Antonio. But, oh dear ! that dreadful 
 liquor saloon down in Ferry Court ! Just as soon as
 
 70 Child Toilers. 
 
 he is out of school and back from work, his father 
 makes him tend at the bar, and unless some kind 
 Providence interferes, I'm afraid the poor boy, so ea- 
 sily influenced by good or evil, will be dragged down 
 into what the sailors call the "Black Sea. :) 
 
 Henry Gardella, the fine, manly boy who sits near 
 Antonio, has, I am glad to say, far better influences 
 thrown about him. When he came into the school, 
 some five years ago, he didn't know his letters. And 
 he was, moreover, such a wee bit of a boy that to 
 reach the platform his teacher didn't, to be sure, put 
 him into a pint-pot like the little man in Mother 
 Goose, but she did perch him upon a big wash-basin 
 turned upside down. Now, he measures nearly six 
 feet. 
 
 I do wish you could hear him recite a lesson in ge- 
 ography. You see he has come right from his stand 
 at the Crawford House, and his smutty face and 
 hands, his soiled shirt-sleeves, and old faded-out over- 
 "alls are anything but becoming. Never mind ! He 
 knows all about Asia Minor, can name all the rivers 
 in Europe, tell you the latest source of the Nile, rat- 
 tle off the lakes of British America, bound all the 
 Western territories, and well ! tell you just about 
 everything in geography that you don't quite exactly 
 remember yourself. 
 
 And just think, my little WIDE AWAKE scholars,
 
 A BOOT-BLACK.
 
 The Bootblacks. 73 
 
 how very few advantages these poor boys can have. 
 Two hours of study each day through the school 
 year, that is all, and very few can have even this 
 after they are fifteen. For the licenses, making this 
 time in school one of the most important conditions, 
 are usually granted to boys between the ages of "ten 
 and fifteen. After this, the newsboys, the bootblacks, 
 and the little street peddlers, generally learn a trade 
 or take up some kind of work that hinders any more 
 school attendance. 
 
 Such a ragged, dirty, little crowd as they are, this 
 score or more of bootblacks, that daily gather in the 
 small school-room on North Margin Street! It 
 seems hardly large enough for newsboys, peddlers and 
 all ; but as the school has two sessions, part come 
 from nine to eleven in the morning, and the other 
 half from one to three in the afternoon. 
 
 Looking into their brown faces and great black 
 eyes, you don't need to hear the strange outlandish 
 names that show their Italian parentage. But I think 
 it is a little curious that while our newsboys are 
 made up of Germans, Irish and Americans, as well 
 as Italians, these little bootblacks are, every one of 
 them, Italian boys. To be sure, the whole brigade 
 numbers only forty here in Boston, where our news- 
 boys count up to, at least, three hundred ; but since
 
 74 Child Toilers. 
 
 boot-blacking is, on the whole, so profitable, I wonder 
 some of our enterprising little German, Irish, or Yan- 
 kee boys have not taken up the business. 
 
 Upon an average, Fred and Paul can each earn 
 four dollars a week ; while it is seldom that a news- 
 boy can make even when including the extra Sun- 
 day sales more than three dollars. Still, the boot- 
 black trade isn't quite so steady as the selling of 
 newspapers ; for through the winter months the little 
 fellows have but few customers ; and if they were 
 not allowed to take up " inside jobs," many of them 
 would find it hard to make a living. 
 
 The licenses given to bootblacks by the city gov- 
 ernment, always assign the places for their stands ; 
 and they are not allowed to make any change unless 
 by special permit. But if they are quiet and well-be- 
 haved, no objection is made to their stepping into of- 
 fices, saloons, depots, or hotel entrances in the neigh- 
 borhood of their stands ; and it is in such places that 
 the little bootblacks find a good many extra jobs, even 
 in stormy weather. 
 
 Years ago, the boys used to get ten cents a shine, 
 but there has been so much competition since the 
 " high-toned " stands made their appearance that no 
 one will pay, nowadays, more than five cents a 
 shine.
 
 The Bootllacks. 75 
 
 Perhaps you are wondering what the " high-toned 
 stands " may be. Well, it is an odd name to give 
 them, but that is what the little fellows call those big 
 stands* with the comfortable arm-chairs and the patent 
 iron foot-rests, where grown-up men do the " shining." 
 Many crippled soldiers make a living in this way ; and 
 on Court Street, at Boylston Market, in numerous al- 
 ley ways, on the Common, indeed, all through the 
 city you will find the " high-toned " establishments of 
 these dangerous rivals in trade. 
 
 The little fellows look with wistful eyes upon the 
 grand " out-fit " that must have cost " such heaps of 
 money." But if they can't give a comfortable seat to 
 their customers what of that ? It isn't a chair and 
 patent foot-rests, but just a pair of clean, highly-pol- 
 ished boots that is wanted. 
 
 It might, perhaps, console our little Boston boot- 
 blacks if they knew their London brothers carried, 
 just as they do, a small box slung across their shoul- 
 ders which contains all their " stock in trade." 
 
 The " Ragged School Shoeblack Societies " num- 
 ber a great many recruits in London, and you can al- 
 ways tell them by their dark gray suits piped with red, 
 their bright jackets, and peculiar caps with number 
 . and badge attached. Since the " brigade " waa 
 formed, nine hundred thousand dollars have been
 
 76 Child Toilers. 
 
 earned by these enterprising little fellows, and I don't 
 doubt but that our Boston bootblacks are doing quite 
 as well in proportion to their numbers. 
 
 Rather a dirty, disagreeable trade, my WIDE AWAKE 
 readers may think ; but let us not forget that a great 
 part of Dickens' early life was spent in work just as 
 lowly as this. I don't know that he ever actually 
 blacked boots for a living, but I do know that with 
 other poor boys ( in ragged aprons and paper caps ), 
 he used to paste labels upon blacking bottles. 
 
 After all, it isn't so much what we do as how we 
 do it ; and the little bootblack who does his work 
 faithfully, is worthy of far more honor than the better- 
 dressed, but idle, thoughtless boys, who stoop to make 
 fun of his smutty fingers.
 
 THE FLOWER-VENDERS. 
 
 BEAUTIFUL Fresh Pond blue and sparkling in 
 the summer sunlight, far behind the city 
 spires and the glittering dome of the State House, 
 and, here, just in the fore-ground of our picture, five 
 little barefoot boys with hats thrown back, and ragged 
 pants rolled up to their knees. 
 
 " My ! Ain't it nice and cool, though ! " exclaimed 
 Tommy. 
 
 " And ain't them lilies just ' stunners ' ! " echoed 
 little, freckled-faced Ned. 
 
 They have had a long, hot tramp from the city this 
 morning, but that is all forgotten now. O, that 
 cool, beautiful water ! The boys are almost tempted 
 to take a " plunge " ; but time is precious, pennies 
 must be earned, and there are the great creamy lilies 
 all ready for the first picker. 
 
 77
 
 78 Child Toilers. 
 
 " If we only had a boat now," sighs little Jack. 
 
 " Pooh ! who wants a boat, as can wade like a duck ! 
 Look'ee here, boys, I'll be cap'n and you foller ! " 
 shouts Tommy, suiting the action to the word. 
 
 And so the procession moves on, with many fright- 
 ened cries from little Jack, who lags behind, and 
 somehow manages to fall into all the muddy places ! 
 But now the boys are knee-deep in the water, and al- 
 though the very biggest lilies and the very pinkest 
 buds always do seem to be just out of reach, and 
 although many a dainty blossom near at hand snaps 
 its long stem in the pulling, not many minutes have 
 passed before each little fellow has his arms full of 
 the fragrant " water queens." 
 
 O, how fresh and pretty they are ! No wonder 
 the sick lady who sees them from her carriage wants 
 a handful, and bids her coachman call the boys. 
 Tommy is the first to hear he is always first in 
 everything ! and before the other boys are out of 
 the water, he has scrambled through the bushes, 
 reached the lady's carriage, and sold all his lilies, at 
 a cent apiece ! 
 
 But now he has none to carry back to the city, and 
 .the other boys a little jealous of Tommy's success 
 will not wait for him to gather more. The little 
 fellow, however, is equal to the occasion. With
 
 The Flower -Venders. 79 
 
 twenty-five cents in his pocket, he fe.els quite rich 
 enough to buy at wholesale ; and since " a bird in the 
 hand is always worth two in the bush," Ned, Jack, 
 Michael and Teddy each agree to sell him a few of 
 their lilies at a very low figure. So the bunches and 
 the pennies are pretty equally divided, and the five 
 boys, in the best of humor again, start off together for 
 the city. Oh dear ! how fast the beautiful blossoms 
 wither ! 
 
 " We'll hev' to hev' a tub or a pail to put 'em in, 
 just as soon as ever we can ! " says little Jack. 
 
 " Umph ! I mean to sell mine 'fore they need a 
 tub ! " says Ned. 
 
 " So do I, but then you see I mightn't, after all ! " 
 says Jack, who has a large bump of caution, and is 
 rather apt to look upon the dark side. 
 
 The boys sell, however, a few more of their lilies, 
 on the way back ; and when they separate at Bowdoin 
 Square little Jack feels quite encouraged. He and 
 Ned are going up and down Washington Street, but, 
 first of all, he runs home for his mother's old blue 
 floor pail. 
 
 " It'll be sort o' heavy to lug about, but thin I know 
 it'll pay ! " says Jack to himself, as he dips the droop- 
 ing white beauties down into the cool, fresh water. 
 With the brightest of lily smiles they thank him, and
 
 8o Child Toilers. 
 
 everybody that passes exclaims at their beauty. No 
 fear, little Jack, but you will sell all your lilies to- 
 day! 
 
 Tommy prefers Tremont Street. It was down by 
 St. Paul's Church that I first saw him, but that was 
 weeks ago when the trailing arbutus came. With an 
 eye to effect, he had fixed his little bouquets in a 
 fanciful manner, sticking the stems through the iron 
 fence, so that only the pretty pink and white flowers 
 in their evergreen circle could be seen. 
 
 " Fresh Plymouth May flowers, only ten cents a 
 bunch ! " 
 
 Such a clear, shrill voice, and such a bright little 
 face ! He had sold a dollar's worth already, but early 
 in the day the bunches had brought fifteen and 
 twenty cents apiece. Then, he was only Mr. Some- 
 body's agent, but now that the lilies have come he is 
 selling for himself. 
 
 "Yer see, m'am," he exclaimed, "May flowers 
 can't be got round here. They pick 'em down to 
 Plymouth and the Cape where the pink pond lilies 
 come from, yer know, and sometimes they git a few 
 of these 'butus flowers at Marshfield and Scituate. I 
 s'pose boys there git five cents a bunch for 'em, thin 
 they're sint up to Boston by express, all wrapped up
 
 The Flower -Venders. 81 
 
 in cotton ( the flowers I mean not the boys ! ) and 
 the big florists buy 'em." 
 
 " But how much do they give you for selling 
 them ? " 
 
 "Oh! that depends! If we sell 'em for twenty 
 cents a bunch, we git three cents ; two for fifteen, 
 and only one-for ten ! " 
 
 But little Julie Sullivan managed to do better than 
 this, or rather her brother did for her. I wonder if 
 you remember Julie's round, freckled face, and bright 
 red hair ! She was standing on Winter Street near 
 Music Hall, that particular afternoon ; but I imagine 
 she travels up and down Washington and Tremont 
 Streets, too. She is only eight years old, and so shy 
 that you cannot get many words from her. 
 
 But, by numerous questions, I find she lives on Es- 
 sex Street, that her father, a day laborer, had his hand 
 badly hurt on the railroad a few months ago, and that 
 she and her brother Jimmy, who is a few years older, 
 are doing what they can to help the family. The boy 
 had been to the Old Colony Depot himself, bought 
 the flowers from the man who had gathered them at 
 Plymouth ; and he and Julie were selling them on 
 the street at lower prices, but far better profits, than 
 keen little Tommy !
 
 82 " Child Toilers. 
 
 And here, by the way, I want to tell you something 
 about this same Jimmy that pleased me very much. 
 He is a strong, hearty boy not handsome, by any 
 means, but with a good, honest face that you like to 
 look at. Just beside him on Winter Street that day 
 so near that their baskets touched stood lame 
 Johnnie Collins. 
 
 Both boys were calling out, " Nice Plymouth May 
 flowers ! " to the passers-by, and both were very eager 
 to sell their bunches. At last, a lady stopped and 
 looked into each basket. Timid little Johnnie leaned 
 forward on his crutch, anxious to sell, if possible ; 
 and, looking at Jimmy's face, I saw a real battle was 
 going on, though he said not a word. 
 
 The lady evidently wanted but one bouquet, and, 
 although Jimmy's flowers were equally large and 
 fresh, she seemed more inclined to patronize John- 
 nie's basket. Now, instead of urging his own flowers 
 upon the lady, as I am very sure some boys would 
 have done, Jimmy at once devoted all his energies to 
 the selling of Johnnie's bouquets. 
 
 " There, mum," he said, pointing to one of the 
 prettiest bunches in the lame boy's basket, "that's 
 only ten cents, and it's rale fresh, mum ! " 
 
 Johnnie looks up gratefully ; and, with eager, un-
 
 ONK OF THB FLOWER GIRLS.
 
 The Flower -Venders. 85 
 
 selfish interest, Jimmy goes on to tell the lady how 
 Johnnie was run over, down by the Albany Depot. 
 
 " Why, mum ! he was in the hospital for months ; 
 and he hasn't any toes, mum, but the big one, on that 
 foot as is left ! " 
 
 Before this explicit explanation, however, the lady 
 has bought Johnnie's bunch of flowers, and has prom- 
 ised to come and see both him and Jimmy. 
 
 At the entrance of one of our large hotels here in 
 Boston, you will frequently see, at noon, and early in 
 the evening, a little flaxen-haired girl, with button-hole 
 bouquets to sell. She is rather tall of her age, has a 
 sweet, gentle face, and looks as if she might have a 
 story, doesn't she ? Well, here it is, just as little blue- 
 eyed Mary told it to me herself ; and though it does 
 " read like a book" I find it all true. 
 
 " I was nine years old, m'am, when I first began to 
 sell flowers ; but that was four years ago. You see 
 we were very poor. Father was dead, and mother 
 was sick in bed. I was the oldest, and there were 
 lots of little ones younger than me. One day mother 
 was sicker than usual, and we hadn't a bit of coal in 
 the house, nor anything to eat. Mother had just 
 twenty-five cents left in her pocket-book that was 
 all but I happened to remember how an aunt of
 
 86 Child Toilers. 
 
 mine used to make a good deal of money by selling 
 flowers. So I asked mother to let me take the quar- 
 ter and see what I could do with it. Well, she let me 
 have it, and I went right to a florist and got some 
 flowers it don't take many, you know, for a button- 
 hole, just a little bit of green and a few buds are 
 enough and then I went around to the St. James 
 and some other hotels, to sell them. Folks were real 
 kind, m'am, and I made fifty cents, on that first quarter ! 
 
 " Ever since then, I've kept on selling flowers ; I 
 never go near the saloons, m'am, but I have found 
 good sales for my bouquets at the large hotels. Now, 
 I always come here, for the ladies and gentlemen 
 know me, and do a great deal to help me. Some- 
 times, they give me great, beautiful bouquets, that I 
 can make up into lots of little ones. Here are some 
 of them," and the little girl showed me two or three 
 dainty little bunches a pansy and white pink with a 
 bit of smilax between rosebud and heliotrope bou- 
 quets that she sold at fifteen cents apiece. 
 
 " They used to give me nice things, too, to carry 
 home to mother pieces of chicken, you know, and 
 such like why ! there's one particular place in the 
 dining-room now, where they put my brown paper 
 bag ; and I'm always sure to find it full when I go 
 home at night ! Mother died last winter about Christ-
 
 The Flower -Venders. 87 
 
 mas time, so I live with grandmother now. Usually, 
 I earn about six dollars a week, that I carry home to 
 her, but sometimes I can make ten." 
 
 Brave little Mary ! She tells her story in the sim- 
 plest, most unaffected way; but I know that for 
 nearly four years she was the sole support and com- 
 fort of that poor sick mother, and those little helpless 
 children ! 
 
 Now that she is growing into her teens, I wish our 
 little flower-girl might have some better field of labor 
 opened to her. I fear she has never been to school 
 much her opportunities have been few and far be- 
 tween but she is very quick, intelligent, and eager 
 to learn. These hotel offices, however unexceptiona- 
 ble they may be, are certainly not the best of school- 
 rooms ; and I want such influences thrown about our 
 bright, energetic little Mary that she may grow up 
 into a good, noble, useful woman ! 
 
 There are other little flower-sellers that I might tell 
 you about the " Boston-rose-bud " boy who stands 
 on Winter Street, and holds an odd little tray all full 
 of holes, of different sizes, into which he tucks his 
 bouquets. Sometimes, he has pretty little bunches of 
 English violets, and great purple and gold pansies ; 
 but " rose buds " seem to be his particular specialty, 
 and he sells them at various prices, according to their
 
 88 Child Toilers. 
 
 size and variety. Then, in the depots, at the ferries, 
 in the cars, at the entrance of concert rooms and the- 
 atres, you will find these little flower-venders, at all 
 most any season of the year. At the holidays, and 
 just before Easter, they sell more, perhaps, than at 
 any other time ; but flowers are so fashionable, now- 
 a-days, at all sorts of entertainments, that the trade 
 in them is really very good all through the year. 
 
 There are about one hundred florists in, and 
 just about, Boston ; and boys and girls are frequently 
 employed by them in picking and arranging the flow- 
 ers. Very few, however, send children upon the 
 street to sell bouquets. In almost every instance, 
 you will find that the children themselves have 
 bought the flowers at wholesale prices, and so sell in- 
 dependently of the florists.
 
 B 
 
 THE STREET MUSICIANS. 
 
 UT we must hev the monish." 
 That was what the old Jew said when Mr. 
 Coles, the kind city officer who looks after these little 
 steeet-waifs, took the child home. 
 
 You see he had found Katrina playing upon her 
 violin in one of those dreadful bar-rooms down at the 
 North End. 
 
 I don't think the little girl knew (when she stepped 
 inside) what a bad, dangerous place it was ; she only 
 thought of the pennies the rude, drunken men had 
 promised her those bright, beautiful pennies that 
 would save her from cross words and angry blows 
 
 when she went home at night. 
 
 89
 
 9 Child Toilers. 
 
 Poor little Katrina ! She is only eleven years old 
 yet she has seen more of life and the dark side of 
 it too than many thrice her age ! It is four years 
 since she came from Italy. 
 
 " When we lived there," says little Katrina, " I used 
 to carry stones and mortar on my head to the men 
 that were making buildings. They paid us fifty cents 
 a day, and lots of us used to do that sort of work. We 
 lived near Naples, and I've got two grandmothers 
 and one grandfather there now ! " 
 
 " And how did it happen that you came to Amer- 
 ica?" 
 
 " Well, father came over first, and when he got 
 back he said I must learn to play the violin. So I 
 took lessons three months, and we paid the man that 
 showed me how, fifteen dollars five dollars each 
 month." 
 
 " And did you like to play ? "* 
 
 " Oh ! ever so much and I learned to sing too ! 
 Then father bought me a violin I guess he paid fif- 
 teen dollars for it and it wasn't long after that we 
 came over in a great big boat * I liked that ! " 
 
 Little Katrina's black eyes sparkled as she told 
 about that long, nice ride on the water. Evidently, 
 she didn't know what it was to be sea-sick. 
 
 "We stayed in New York a while after we landed
 
 The Street Musicians 91 
 
 father, mother and me. I couldn't talk English then, 
 but I learned by listening real hard." 
 
 Katrina talks very plainly now, only hesitates some- 
 times in getting hold of the right word. 
 
 " Father and me used to go about together, he with 
 the harp and I with the violin. Mother don't know 
 how to play nor sing either." 
 
 "And how much could you earn in this way you 
 and your father ? " 
 
 " Oh ! sometimes fifty cents through the day, and 
 sometimes a dollar or a dollar and a half. We didn't 
 stay long, though, in Ne,w York ; we lived longest in 
 New Haven. Then father took us to Portland, but 
 you know they don't have saloons there : so we couldn't 
 get much money ! " 
 
 An honest confession, wasn't it ? 
 
 " But does your father let you go into saloons to 
 play and sing ? " 
 
 " He don't like to have me go alone, and I never 
 stay very late ! " 
 
 Since Mr. Coles found the child, some months ago, 
 she has attended the Cushman school pretty regu- 
 larly. The father found to his astonishment that in 
 the good city of Boston he had no right to send his 
 child out upon the street in school hours. Confirmed 
 truancy, like confirmed drunkenness, is a culpable of-
 
 92 Child Toilers. 
 
 fence ; and, according to Boston laws, children that 
 cannot be kept in school are sent "down to the Island " 
 for terms of six months to two years, according to the 
 degree of offence. 
 
 Little Katrina, however, is very glad to go to school ; 
 indeed, it is the exception when the children them- 
 selves rebel against the law. 
 
 " After school in the afternoon," says our little 
 violinist, " I generally go out on the street and play 
 until eight and nine o'clock in the evening. Some- 
 times I go alone up on Beacon Street ; I like to sing 
 and play there. Once some bad boys made fun of 
 me, but I spoke just as cross as I could to them, and 
 when they didn't mind, I called a policeman ! " 
 
 She is a funny little thing this Katrina! I 
 think Topsy must have looked somewhat like her, 
 only Katrina has an olive skin and Topsy's was jet 
 black. 
 
 Come with me, little WIDE-AWAKE readers, and I 
 will show you another picture. 
 
 Isn't it a funny-looking court, so narrow you can 
 touch both walls as you pass between them ! And 
 isn't this an odd-looking building? Why, it is so 
 crowded and wedged In it makes one think of an old 
 tooth that ought to be pulled to make room for new 
 ones ! Up a few steps, down a few more, and we
 
 The Street Musicians. 93 
 
 come to a little room that seems more like a den than 
 anything else. Oh ! it is so low and dark and damp. 
 
 There are two windows, to be sure, in it, but they 
 are so little and so dusty that hardly a bit of light comes 
 through. 
 
 At one an old man with grey hair, but keen black 
 eyes, sits busily at work. It is a shoe-last that he has 
 in his hand, and under the table is any quantity of 
 leather clippings. 
 
 Shoe-making is his trade, but music is his delight ; 
 and close beside the table is his harp such a large 
 one that it almost touches the low ceiling ! On the 
 wall hang two violins, and a third rests upon the win- 
 dow sill. 
 
 Pictures of all sizes, and all colors too, are tacked 
 helter-skelter between the windows and over the chim- 
 ney-piece, while just above the door hangs an old 
 horse-shoe for luck, you know ! 
 
 Pasquale is not at home that we can see for our. 
 selves but the old father would like to explain why. 
 
 He cannot understand our English, and we are 
 equally ignorant of his rapid Italian ; but and 
 isn't it funny and foolish ? we all begin to talk louder 
 and louder, as if by this means we may at last come 
 to make each other understand ! Finally, with a laugh, 
 we give it up ; but the old man takes the covering off
 
 94 Child Toilers. 
 
 his harp, tunes the really fine instrument, and gives us 
 some excellent music. 
 
 The violins belong to Pasquale, and his father is 
 evidently very proud of his little son, for nearly every 
 thing he tries to tell us has Pasquale's name in it. 
 
 Close by the violin, on the window, is a large toy- 
 boat very nicely made and rigged. The old man 
 nods his head with delight when we notice it. Yes, 
 it is Pasquale's work, no doubt, for he is a very intel- 
 ligent boy. But what a pity he is not at home to-day ! 
 However, we may find him on the street, and we are 
 very glad to have seen just where and how he lives. 
 
 Pasquale Carvalo ! That is his name ; and if a 
 black-eyed, black-haired boy of twelve, with a fine, 
 earnest face, happens to come to your window with 
 his violin, give him a few pennies, and some kind 
 words too, for Pasquale needs them all. He is doing 
 wonderfully well in his studies at school, and if right 
 influences are only thrown about him, I think he will 
 make a fine man. 
 
 And here is our little accordeon boy, Auguste by 
 name. 
 
 I first met him in a horse-car, and his little brother 
 was with him that day. The two boys had been out 
 to Brookline, they said, and had made fifty cents since 
 they left home.
 
 AUGUSTS.
 
 Tlie Street Musicians. 97 
 
 Many children in our city learn to play the accor- 
 deon ; for it is much easier to learn, and the instrument 
 is far cheaper than the violin. Sometimes you hear 
 it well^played, and then the instrument sounds very 
 sweetly ; but I remember two little girls, ragged, un- 
 tidy children they were, who used to make most h6rri- 
 ble discords upon them. And then when they tried to 
 sing, too why ! everybody in the neighborhood ran 
 to their windows and shut them down with a bang ! 
 The children had mistaken their calling, like so many 
 other people in this big world of ours. 
 
 But there is one little boy I have not seen him 
 a lady was telling me about him who has such a 
 wonderful voice that crowds always gather when he 
 begins to sing. 
 
 His father carries a hand-organ, and I think the 
 little fellow plays sometimes on a tambourine. But it 
 is the rare singing of those beautiful Italian airs that 
 brings the crowds and the coppers ! 
 
 It is not often you see children, or women either, 
 with hand-organs the instrument is too heavy to 
 take about ; but I remember a woman once came into 
 our street with a hand-organ fastened to a wheel-bar- 
 row, and in the other half of this strange turn-out was 
 a basket, and in the basket a real live baby just 
 think of that ! And just think of being lulled to sleep
 
 98 Child Toilers. 
 
 by "Captain Jinks" and "Molly Darling " ground 
 into one's very ears ! But this strange baby seems to 
 enjoy it don't you think she will be a musical won- 
 der if she ever lives to grow up ? 9 
 
 But the monkeys I havent told you a word 
 abo'ut them, and they are most important personages 
 among our street musicians. 
 
 Why, yes, indeed ! don't they always draw the big- 
 gest crowds and haven't I seen them playing on tam- 
 borines and fiddles just like little men for all the world ? 
 
 There was one, I remember, dressed just like a 
 soldier in bright scarlet uniform. He had a sword at 
 his side and a rifle on his shoulder, yes, and he 
 knew how to use them too ! Of course he danced, 
 turned somersets, made bows to those who had any- 
 thing to give him, and snapped his great white teeth 
 if anybody scolded him. 
 
 Then I remember seeing another that was taking 
 real comfort " in his own house." It was a curious 
 little room where a number of hand-organ men had 
 congregated ; and while the master was taking his 
 lunch, Mr. Monkey was taking his ease, now resting 
 upon his haunches, now eating with all his might, and 
 running about like a school-boy let loose from study. 
 
 Oh, dear ! what a strange, gypsey-sort of life these 
 street-musicians have to follow ! Even the little boot-
 
 The Street Musicians. 99 
 
 blacks look down upon them with pity, and are 
 ashamed to own the fact if they have ever been in the 
 business themselves. 
 
 It may do very well for monkeys, but I heartily wish 
 there was not a child in our city who had to earn a 
 living in this wretched, beggarly way. Will the good 
 day ever come, I wonder, when street musicians will 
 just be an interesting matter of history ?
 
 THE BALLOON VENDERS. 
 
 RED, white and blue ! how they sway in the 
 breeze, and how they glisten in the sunlight ! 
 
 Pedro holds them high up, that every one who 
 passes may see how bright and pretty they are. 
 
 He is standing on the Common, just at the end of 
 the long flag-stone walk that makes a diagonal cut 
 to Boylston Street and Park Square. 
 
 It is one of the very best places to sell his bal- 
 loons ; for, no matter what time of day it is, there 
 always seems to be a moving crowd just here. Some- 
 times there is a long procession to and from the 
 Providence depot ; and then a great many people 
 who live on Columbus Avenue, Boylston Street, and 
 the Back Bay, find this particular flag-stone walk the 
 nearest as well as the pleasantest way " down town." 
 
 Yes, indeed ! Pedro had a good eye for business 
 when he chose his stand right here. 
 
 " Only ten cents apiece ! "
 
 The Balloon Venders. 101 
 
 Grave Papa Randolph has just come from his law- 
 office, and is in a brown study over some puzzling 
 "case in court," as he hurries on to catch the train. 
 
 But Pedro has somehow managed to catch his eye 
 and ear. 
 
 The children ! why ! he had nearly forgotten 
 them ! But here are these bright balloons would 
 it be possible to carry them home ? 
 
 Pedro seems to read his thoughts, for, taking out of 
 his coat pocket a little flat bag with a bright magenta 
 tube at one end he puts it to his mouth ; and in a 
 few seconds holds up to the light the pretty red bal- 
 loon he has blown up so quickly from what seemed 
 but a bit of brown rubber. 
 
 Another second the big, round ball goes off with 
 a sharp whistle, and nothing is left in Pedro's sun- 
 burnt hand, but a mass of wrinkled gutta percha ! 
 
 The grave lawyer looks on with interest he likes 
 to sift matters to the bottom and Pedro explains 
 how the balloons already inflated that he holds up on 
 the string are filled with hydrogen gas, but are not a 
 bit better or stronger than those blown up with the 
 breath. 
 
 " Only, to be sure, the hydrogen gas does make 
 them a little lighter," adds Pedro who is anxious to 
 tell the whole truth.
 
 102 Child Toilers. 
 
 Papa Randolph, however, is satisfied with these 
 convenient little empty bags that can be blown up 
 with the breath, and stops to buy a white one for 
 Maud, a blue one for Tom, and a red one for Harry ; 
 and while he is tucking them into his pocket a lady 
 somebody's dear mamma, I know, is asking Pedro 
 for a couple more. 
 
 Trade is brisk to-day, and Pedro will have to get a 
 new stock of balloons by afternoon. Would you like 
 to know just where he goes to buy them, and wouldn't 
 you like to see how the pretty little things are made ? 
 
 Let us follow him as he saunters down Boylston 
 Street. -There ! he is just turning into Carver Street, 
 and, if we hurry a bit, we can catch up with him. 
 
 Dear me ! what a funny little doorway it is where 
 Pedro says we must stop. I'm going to write down 
 the odd sign just over the entrance, for it is a genuine 
 curiosity in the way of spelling and punctuation. 
 Here it is : 
 
 ESTOUP NOEL & Co. 
 FRENCH CUTLERY 
 
 REPAIERD, AT SHORT, NOTICE, RAZARS 
 
 put in order. 
 
 ALSO BALOON MAKER.
 
 The Balloon Venders. 103 
 
 The sign is evidently home made, and is painted 
 in red and black letters upon a white ground, so that 
 it stands out in bold relief. The door, or rather gate, 
 is very low and very narrow we will let Pedro go 
 first, and then follow, one by one. 
 
 " Bow bow-wow ! " Why ! what is this ? A big, 
 black Newfoundland, sure enough, and I do believe 
 Pedro trod upon his toes, for the dog and the kennel 
 together quite fill up the narrow passage way ! There 
 is plenty of room overhead, though, way up to the 
 sky ! For it is an open court, and looking in between 
 the old, broken-down, picturesque buildings I could 
 easily imagine myself in some far away city of the 
 East. 
 
 " MADE A REPAIERT." 
 
 These are the mysterious words we read over the 
 inner door which is half way open. A stout, good- 
 natured looking Frenchman answers our knock, and 
 we step down into a dark little basement room that 
 smells very strong of rubber and dyes. 
 
 There is a nicely polished cooking stove that fills 
 up a goodly portion of the room, and all sorts of 
 " kitchen furniture " seem in the act of " changing 
 places." Estoup can talk English, and understands 
 it, too ; but he jabbers French a great deal faster !
 
 104 Child Toilers. 
 
 Yes, he has plenty of balloons already made, but 
 the man who makes them for him is out of town to- 
 day. Estoup, however, is very obliging. He will tell 
 us just how the work is done, and some day, perhaps, 
 we can come in again. 
 
 Here are the sheets of rubber a peculiar kind of 
 gutta percha that Estoup says cannot be bought in 
 this country. 
 
 "Way over England come," he explains, and 
 when we take the rubber in our hands, its tint and its 
 firm, close texture is quite different, we find, from 
 ordinary rubber. 
 
 Then Estoup takes up a forlorn looking little " wab " 
 of nondescript color, puts it to his lips, and with 
 every puff of breath we can see it grow bigger and 
 bluer. 
 
 " Him four parts see ! " and, like a miniature 
 globe quartered in regular divisions, we notice how 
 neatly and firmly the four parts of the little balloon 
 have been cemented together. 
 
 Then, Estoup brings out two big jars, such as- chem- 
 ists use, and shows us how the vitriol is poured upon 
 the pieces of zinc, and a kind of gas formed to in- 
 flate the rubber. 
 
 " Dye all through blue, red, white no wash
 
 The Balloon Venders. 105 
 
 off ! " and Estoup puts them to his tongue that we 
 may see for ourselves. 
 
 " Pictures, flags paint-pot bad, poison the 
 children ! These no harm never ! " he adds with 
 many gestures. We nod assent, which brings another 
 grimace of delight to Estoup's broad, good-natured 
 face. 
 
 " But how about the whistles do you make them 
 too?" 
 
 " Out, out \ make all right here ! " 
 
 Pedro buys a dozen of the balloons and pays 
 seventy cents for them ; so we know just how much 
 profit he gets when he sells them on the Common. 
 
 " And do you have a great demand for the bal- 
 loons ? " we ask Estoup. 
 
 With just a bit of a consequential air, he shows us 
 a large order he has lately had from California. 
 
 " Me makes twenty-five gross a week sometime 
 Fourth of July me no make them fast enough. " 
 
 " But where is your little boy ? Doesn't he help 
 you ? " 
 
 " Oh ! non \ non ! him way off seminaire in 
 France me no want him to make balloons me 
 give him an ' educate. ' " 
 
 Estoup fears we may not understand ; and repeats 
 his words with gestures innumerable.
 
 io6 Child Toilers. 
 
 With true fatherly pride, he talks about this little 
 son who is to have such a fine "educate;" and we 
 can't help wondering if the boy is making a good use 
 of his opportunities. 
 
 Surely, he ought to study very hard, and grow up a 
 comfort and honor to such a loving, devoted father ! 
 
 " Please, sir, can I have a cent's worth of that 
 rubber ? " 
 
 It is a child's voice^ and looking up we see a little 
 girl standing in the door-way. 
 
 Estoup welcomes her with a smile, and gets the 
 cent's worth of rubber with as much alacrity as if it 
 were one of those " big orders." 
 
 You see he is every inch a Frenchman, and never 
 forgets his manners ! I don't wonder people like to 
 trade with him, for to be always obliging and always 
 polite even in little things is the mark of a true 
 gentleman. 
 
 As far as the making of toy balloons is concerned, 
 I believe Estoup & Co. to have the whole monopoly 
 in Boston. 
 
 Doubtless many toy shops in the city especially 
 the larger establishments send directly to New 
 York or Paris for the ready-made article ; but Estoup 
 and his man " Friday " know the secret, and I think 
 their little balloons are quite as well made as those 
 that come from a greater distance.
 
 The Balloon Venders. 109 
 
 How ingenious all these French people are ! Why, 
 if it hadn't been for their busy brains, I don't believe 
 we should have had any sort of balloons, at all ! 
 
 Ever and ever so many years ago, there was an old 
 Catholic priest, Father Lauretus Laurus by name, 
 who said if any one would take the egg of a goose, 
 blow out the inside, and fill it with morning dew, 
 something very wonderful would happen. 
 
 But to see it best, you must put it out in the hot sun 
 at the foot of a long ladder. Then, when the egg 
 grew very hot, it would begin of its own accord to 
 mount up the ladder round by round! Of course, 
 this was all a fancy of Father Lauretus' brain, but 
 you see he had the right theory, after all, about the 
 expansion of heated air. 
 
 It was a good many years after this, that Stephen 
 and Joseph Montgolfier, two brothers who lived near 
 Lyons, in France actually made a little bag which 
 they called " balloon " from the French word " bal- 
 lon " meaning " little ball." 
 
 After a few experiments, just among themselves, 
 they resolved to have a public exhibition in the large 
 open square where everybody could see this wonder- 
 ful little ball that was lighter than the air itself. 
 
 It was a lovely June morning in the year 1783, and 
 a great crowd gathered in the square to see this first 
 ascent. The balloon itself looked just like folds of
 
 1 10 Child Toilers. 
 
 paper ; but when a fire was kindled underneath, in- 
 stead of burning up it began to rise higher and higher 
 till at last "it was out of sight ! For ten minutes it 
 hung suspended in the air, then floated gently down 
 and landed in a vineyard a mile and a half from 
 the city. 
 
 Well, after this, the two brothers made a large 
 bag. fastened a little basket to it, and into the basket 
 they put a sheep, a cock, and a duck. These were 
 the first living creatures that ever went "up in a bal- 
 loon;" and they evidently enjoyed their funny ride in 
 the air, for all three were bright and lively when the 
 balloon came down to earth again. The cock's wing 
 to be sure, was just a little lame, but that probably 
 came about from his uneasy fluttering. 
 
 Now, certain courageous Frenchmen began to won- 
 der if it wouldn't be possible for themselves to take 
 an air-voyage in just the same way. 
 
 The wise and the cautious shook their heads and 
 said it was a very fool-hardy, dangerous experi- 
 ment j but Pilatre de Rozier, a young French natur- 
 alist, was determined to run the risk. 
 
 At last, he persuaded the Marquis d' Arlandes 
 to go with him, and on the twenty-first of No- 
 vember, that very same year, (1783,) they made 
 their first ascent.
 
 The Balloon Venders. in 
 
 Of course, this was a much larger balloon 
 than any of the others, and I think the bag 
 was made of silk, dipped into a solution of 
 Indian-rubber. Then, instead of being filled 
 with heated air like the Montgolfier balloons, it 
 was inflated, if I remember rightly, with hydrogen gas. 
 
 It was a dull, cloudy day when the two men 
 got into the little car that was fastened to this 
 mysterious air bag. 1 don't wonder the Marquis 
 was a little frightened when the cords that held 
 the balloon to the ground were cut away, and up 
 up, three thousand feet they rose as if on the 
 wings of some great bird ! 
 
 There was a crowd watching them from the 
 chateau gardens of Muette, where the balloon had 
 been fastened; but Rozier and the Marquis soon 
 lost sight of them. Six miles of space they 
 traversed in twenty-five minutes, and when they 
 were ready to come down the balloon was rest- 
 ing over the Boulevards. 
 
 O ! so many questions as they had to answer 
 when, safe and sound, they fairly reached the 
 ground. 
 
 The curious people flocked around them, like as 
 many magpies, and those who had croaked loudest
 
 H2 Child Toilers, 
 
 about the " wild goose scheme" were now ready 
 to try the venture themselves. 
 
 Since that ascent, there have been many others 
 far more wonderful, but not one of greater in- 
 terest or importance ; for this, you know, was the 
 very first ascent that anyone had dared to make ; 
 and to do what nobody else has ever done before 
 always takes a deal of noteworthy courage and 
 enterprise. 
 
 But we have wandered away from Pedro, and 
 his little toy balloons. He is back at his post 
 on the Common now; and there is a little girl 
 not far away from him, who is selling balloons too. 
 
 Really, I am afraid he will find her a danger- 
 ous " rival in trade. " 
 
 Sometimes, you will see the little empty bags 
 taken about in a basket. 
 
 There is a boy or rather man, I have seen 
 on Washington Street, who has a wooden box 
 slung over his neck with a leather strap ; and in 
 the box he carries, among other articles, a new- 
 fashioned kind of balloon that he sells at twenty- 
 five cents apiece. 
 
 It is shaped and colored just like Pedro's, but 
 I see there are two holes instead of one, in the 
 empty rubber bag.
 
 The Balloon Venders. 113 
 
 A little metal tube is thrust into the first hole, 
 and into the second a sort of flute whistle made 
 of some bright colored wood. 
 
 When I saw him, he was showing a young 
 girl how to use it ; first, he blew up the bag by 
 means of the little metal tube, and then as the air 
 began to escape he moved his fingers rapidly up and 
 down the long piece of colored wood. 
 
 O dear, such an unearthly noise as it made ! I 
 suppose he called it " music," but it sounded more 
 like an Indian war-whoop than anything else I could 
 think of. 
 
 Perhaps " the boys " may enjoy this noisy toy, 
 but I know the little girls like Pedro's balloons a 
 great deal better. 
 
 Why, it is most as good as a kite, to have one of 
 these light pretty balls that float so quietly high up 
 in the air. 
 
 Sometimes they are fastened to a long stick that 
 will easily bend without breaking ; but a good, stout 
 string answers every purpose if the balloon is well 
 inflated. 
 
 It is a pretty sight to see the children at play with 
 these bright toys on the Common and Public Gar- 
 dens. In and out among the trees and shrubbery,
 
 H4 Child Toilers. 
 
 they look like colored lights when the sunshine falls 
 upon them. But, woe to the unfortunate balloon that 
 gets caught and torn in the branches ! A hole as big 
 as a pin's head is enough to burst the brilliant bub- 
 ble ; and no doubt it is a very good thing for the 
 trade that these pretty delicate toys are, at best, but 
 short-lived.
 
 THE STREET PEDDLERS. 
 
 DID you ever think what the word " peddler, '* 
 comes from ? Sometimes we see it spelt "ped- 
 lar " and " pedler ;" but the first way is the best 
 at least so the big dictionary says, and of course it 
 knows better about such things than anybody else. 
 
 But it isn't quite sure, after all, what the word it- 
 self comes from. There is the German "bettler" 
 that certainly sounds like " peddler ; " but it means 
 " beggar," and I don't like to apply that term to our 
 busy little venders. "Pedester" is the Latin word 
 for " going on foot," and perhaps it comes from that j 
 but the Scotch term " pedder " is still nearer our 
 word, and means one who carries a " ped " or basket. 
 So, without questioning where the Scotch people got 
 their word, I think we must have borrowed ours right 
 from them, don't you? 
 
 "5
 
 i!6 Child Toilers. 
 
 Such a variety of little " pedders " and "peds " as 
 \ve have in our Boston Streets ! Down by Boylston 
 Market there is : or was a little fellow who ped- 
 dled canes, and his " ped " was just an old tow bag. 
 They were very modest walking sticks only ten 
 cents apiece and as they were nicely polished I've 
 no doubt he found a ready sale for them. 
 
 Then, here is a little girl, Mary Wilton by name, 
 who peddles candy, and her "ped" is a bright tin 
 tray. All her candy is " home-made," so you needn't 
 be afraid to buy it. She and her brother Willy live 
 just over Charlestown bridge, and what they earn by 
 peddling fruit and candy goes a great way towards 
 supporting the family. 
 
 A favorite place of Mary's is the right hand side of 
 Court Street, as you leave Tremont Row. Sometimes 
 you will find her sitting, with her little candy tray, in 
 the doorway close by Pierce's grocery. I wish she 
 could go to school and give up this, gypsy sort of 
 life ; but the poor mother says she cannot get along 
 without the money that Mary brings home at night. 
 And so, unless the father gives up drinking, I am 
 afraid our little girl will have to keep on with her 
 peddling. 
 
 Down on State Street you may meet little Joseph 
 Conio some day, He's a funny-looking child with
 
 The Street Peddlers. 1 1 7 
 
 hair cropped close to his head and great ears that 
 stand out on either side like big cockle shells. 
 
 When I saw him he was barefoot, and I presume 
 you will find him so most of the year ; for boots and 
 shoes, except in the bleakest of weather, are among 
 the "non-essentials" with these little street urchins. 
 But when you look at Joseph's eyes you'll forget all 
 about his dirt and rags. The long lashes and heavy 
 arched brows frame in a pair of liquid black orbs 
 that would do for one of Coreggio's cherubs. . And a 
 bright, honest face it is, that looks up into yours. 
 
 Joseph is a great favorite with all who know him ; 
 and he tells me he has one kind friend on State 
 Street who, very often, pays him money but never 
 will take a bit of his fruit and candy. 
 
 Joseph says he is twelve years old, but he looks a 
 deal younger ; and, when I say as much, the child 
 gravely remarks : 
 
 " I s'pose I'm so little 'cause I work so hard. 
 Why, sometimes I carry eighty pounds of paper all 
 at once ! " 
 
 This leads me to question him further and I find 
 that, now-a-days, he thinks it more profitable to col- 
 lect waste paper than to peddle fruit and candies. 
 
 " You see, they know me now at the offices there 
 on State Street, and the gentlemen save the paper
 
 1 18 Child Toilers. 
 
 for me. I cany down a big tow bag, fill it chuck full, 
 and then take it round to the junk sho'ps." 
 
 " And how much money do they give you for it ? " 
 
 " A cent a pound ; and I generally carry down a 
 good many in my bag." 
 
 There are Frank, Poli, and a little sister whose 
 name I've forgotten, all younger than Joseph, so 
 whatever the little fellow can earn, whether by ped- 
 dling or by picking up waste paper, is a great help at 
 home. 
 
 Then, here is another street-peddler, little Stephen 
 Magini by name, whose flaxen hair and blue eyes 
 look as if they ought by right to belong to some genu- 
 ine Saxon child. His own brother Augustus, how- 
 ever, has the usual Italian complexion ; and I find 
 that little Stevie is no less a child of the sunny South 
 than he. For in Italy there are two types of nation- 
 ality entirely distinct in their looks, and Stevie's fa- 
 ther, who has very light hair and eyes, belongs to one, 
 while his dark-eyed mother belongs to another. 
 
 Stevie is in school this morning he comes two 
 hours every day and he stumbles through a spell- 
 ing lesson with so much perseverance that I think he 
 means to be a good scholar. But it is very funny to 
 hear these Italian children try to spell English words. 
 The e's are all a's and the i's e's to their ears ; for at
 
 TJie Street Peddlers. 
 
 119 
 
 home they never hear anything but Italian. Stevie, 
 however, picks up a good many English words on the 
 street, so he has a curious combination just now in 
 his little brain. 
 
 If you meet a curly-headed, rosy-cheeked urchin on 
 the street with fruit and candies to sell, who answers 
 to the name of " Stevie," you may be pretty sure it is 
 the very one I am telling you about. And, if you 
 can, just stop and buy something out of his basket, 
 for the money you give him will not be wasted. There 
 are lots of little ones at home, and Slevie's mother 
 finds it hard work to keep them all in food and clothing. 
 
 Here is a little girl, at the entrance of one of our 
 big dry-goods stores, who has cocoa-nut-cakes to 
 sell. 
 
 " Only eight cents a dozen ! " she calls to the pass- 
 ers-by ; but I do not think she finds a ready sale foi 
 them here. By and by, I shouldn't wonder if she 
 wandered up Tremont Street, so as to be "on the 
 spot " when the school bells ring for recess. There, 
 among the school-children, her little cakes will be in 
 great demand, and she will sell them at so much a-piece, 
 which is more profitable than to sell them by the 
 dozen. 
 
 Sometimes, at the entrance of public buildings, you 
 will notice a placard printed in large letters, "No 
 peddlers allowed here." Well, I suppose they are
 
 120 Child Toilers. 
 
 oftentimes, a real nuisance ; for I know some of these 
 little street-peddlers are veritable "tramps," and often 
 have a long story to tell that hasn't a word of truth 
 in it. 
 
 I saw a little girl in the Post Office one day, hurry- 
 ing along with a big basket on her arm that was cov- 
 ered over with an old blue cloth. She was munch- 
 ing away on a banana as if she wanted to get it out 
 of sight as quickly as possible ; and when I stepped 
 up to buy something from her basket, she started sud- 
 denly, hung down her head, tucked the old cloth 
 tightly over the fruit, and ran off out of the Post 
 Office and down Water Street as fast as her feet 
 could carry her. 
 
 It was very evident that the child had stolen her 
 bananas, but when I thought of the wretched home 
 she had . come from, where her theft had, doubtless, 
 been praised as "smartness," I felt more like pitying 
 than blaming her. Poor little girl ! What will be- 
 come of her if she is left to grow up under such 
 wicked influences ! 
 
 " Please, sir, won't you buy a cake of soap ? " 
 
 It is a very pitiful voice, and the gentleman looks 
 up to see before him a forlorn little specimen of hu- 
 manity with two cakes of soap in her hand. 
 
 " No, child, I don't want any to-day," 
 
 " But please, sir, do buy one cake, mother's sick
 
 A STREBT PEDDLER. .
 
 The Street Peddlers. 
 
 123 
 
 and father can't get any work. I haven't had a thing 
 to eat since morning." 
 
 The gentleman keeps on writing, and the child 
 keeps on whining. 
 
 " But I told you I didn't want any soap. Here ! 
 take this quarter and run off." 
 
 This is just what the child expected ; those three 
 cakes of soap, that she slid off the counter at the big 
 store when no one was looking, she knows will last 
 her all day, if she can only find the right persons to 
 impose upon. For the child's story is all false ; and 
 had the gentleman just taken the trouble to inquire 
 into the matter he would soon have found out the 
 truth for himself. When he does know it he will 
 probably say : 
 
 "They are all alike a thieving, lying set, the 
 whole of them ! " 
 
 But this is not so. There are, even among the 
 poorest and most ignorant, those who are honest, 
 truthful, and willing to work ; but we must learn to 
 seek them out; must go into the "highways and 
 hedges " ourselves, and then we shall know just who 
 do need and are really worthy of our help. 
 
 Some time ago, a little German girl came to a 
 friend's house on Beacon Street and rang the. bell. 
 She had a basket on her arm and in the basket were
 
 124 Child Toilers. 
 
 trimming laces, pins, needles, sewing-silk and buttons. 
 
 Now, it happened the lady wanted some of these 
 very articles, and so she told the servant to bring the 
 little girl up to her room. 
 
 I don't think the child had ever seen so grand a 
 house before. It seemed just like a dream to her, 
 and she wondered if they were not stepping on real 
 flowers as she followed the servant through the long 
 halls and up the broad stairway. But if she had been 
 " born to the purple," she couldn't have behaved in a 
 prettier manner. Her neat dress, her gentle quiet 
 ways, and her modest straight-forward replies to the 
 lady's questions, showed, at once, how well she had 
 been brought up. But my friend, although she was 
 very much pleased and bought more of the little girl's 
 wares than she actually wanted, was not satisfied un- 
 til she had been to the child's home and proved the 
 truth of her simple touching story. It was, as she 
 thought, just as the little girl had said, and ever 
 since then the poor struggling family have not wanted 
 the help and encouragement of warm, true friends. 
 
 It is curious to notice what a variety of articles are 
 peddled now-a-days upon the street. Here is a boy 
 with sponges, another with tooth-picks, and still an- 
 other with the " little Harry lamps." In one door- 
 way stands a keen-eyed Jew with neck-ties and scarf-
 
 The Street Peddlers. 125 
 
 pins to sell ; in another, a man with rubber balls and 
 funny toy spiders on an elastic string. 
 
 Here are the new-fashioned crimping pins " just 
 a few more left, ladies ! " and here are the " roly- 
 poly dolls," and the reins with jingling bells. Tissue 
 paper of all colors, plaster-paris images, books, chro- 
 mos, imitation bronzes, eye-glasses, .jewelry, oil paint- 
 ings ( so-called), and even live puppies, you will see of- 
 fered for sale on our Boston streets. At the holiday 
 season, why it actually seems as if all the stores were 
 turning themselves inside out. 
 
 But the indefatigable peddlers do not stop here. 
 In the depots, at the wharves, on the cars, anywhere 
 and everywhere they are not actually forbidden and 
 there is any possibility of selling their wares, you will 
 be sure to find them. 
 
 Well ! it is certainly better than begging, and in 
 these days when it is so hard to get any kind of work 
 it is oftentimes the only way that many have of earn- 
 ing a livelihood. 
 
 I know of a man whose helpless family is dependent 
 upon charity, just because he is too proud to do me- 
 nial work or anything like peddling. One of his chil- 
 dren is a little invalid, and if it were not for kind 
 friends who send the child many necessaries as well 
 as delicacies I don't know how the family would get
 
 126 Child Toilers. 
 
 along. They live in a tenement house down by one 
 of our large depots, and people coming into town 
 have often noticed the pale sweet face at the window. 
 
 One day, somebody threw a flower into the little 
 girl's hands. She was so delighted that the next day 
 they brought her some more ; and then others began 
 to bring her fruit and toys and all sorts of pretty 
 things. Finally they proposed that she should have 
 a little basket which she could draw up and down 
 from her window with a cord. And ever since then 
 these kind friends who come in on the cars have kept 
 the basket filled with all sorts of "goodies." 
 
 It is one of the few bright spots in poor little An- 
 nie's life, and I wish you could see her eyes sparkle 
 as she draws up the mysterious basket. I don't 
 know as we can class her among the little peddlers, 
 but I couldn't lay down my pen till I had told you 
 about her curious little "ped."
 
 THE CHESTNUT ROASTERS. 
 
 HOW good the smoking chestnuts smell, as we 
 turn the corner ! Yes, this very east wind 
 that blows little Katie " almost to pieces " is truly the 
 best advertisement in the world for her great 
 brown nuts. 
 
 Just see how nicely they are roasted. She has 
 learned the secret of turning them at the right 
 moment when they snap, you know and it is 
 very seldom you will find a burnt one in the whole lot. 
 
 Some of the nuts she keeps in a little pile at one 
 side of her tray, for a customer may come and call 
 for some raw ones; but almost everybody likes the 
 roasted nuts better, and so she reserves only a few 
 in the raw state. 
 
 This little " roaster " of Katie's is an ingenious 
 
 127
 
 128 Child Toilers. 
 
 thing in its way. It looks like a miniature stove, has 
 a grate above, and a sort of oven beneath that holds 
 the charcoal. Sometimes, in the short afternoons 
 when she stays out after dark, she fastens a torch 
 to the roaster j and very picturesque the little stand 
 looks, and the little vender, too, in the flickering, red 
 light. 
 
 The smaller chestnuts were gathered by Katie's 
 father and brothers, who walked a long distance to 
 find them. 
 
 I wonder how many of my Wide Awake readers 
 know what it is to go chestnutting. 
 
 Suppose, this bright afternoon, we try the fun 
 ourselves. Up on the hill-side, where it is warm and 
 dry, we shall find the best trees ; and long before 
 we reach them, the rich, russet leaves among the 
 evergreens and the oaks will point out the way, like 
 so many lighted candles. 
 
 How still the woods are ! All the birds have flown, 
 excepting the little pewit and the big black crow ; for 
 it is a long journey South, and the bob-o-links, the 
 thrushes, and the finches, started weeks ago., Now 
 and then a dead leaf drops to the ground with a 
 crisp, rustling sound ; and a moment ago I saw a 
 red squirrel dart across the path. There he is 
 coming back again now with his cheeks full of nuts.
 
 The Chestnut Roasters. 129 
 
 And here is his mate, just peeping out of their home 
 in the old hollow tree Dear me, if we only had 
 teeth like the squirrels and could climb as fast as 
 they, how easy it would be to gather our nuts. But 
 here we are, right under the beautiful trees, and just 
 see what a soft, dainty carpet the falling leaves have 
 made. 
 
 Brown and green and gold what prettier combi- 
 nation of colors could we have ? And here are tall 
 straight trunks for pillars, and a bit of blue sky for 
 our ceiling. Truly we are treading a king's palace 
 to-day. 
 
 But what is the matter with Robbie ? There he 
 stands, shaking his little sun-burnt fingers, and crying, 
 alternately. 
 
 O, I see now what it is. He has picked off the 
 tree the foolish boy a couple of those great, 
 prickly, " shut-up " burrs, and is trying to open them 
 himself. Ah, little Robbie, you must not be in such a 
 hurry ; Jack Frost can do that work a great deal better 
 than you, and these tight burrs were getting all ready 
 for his magic touch to-night. You might as well 
 throw them away at once ; for, even if you manage 
 to split open the burrs, the nuts inside will be green 
 and unfit to eat. 
 
 Just see what Percy has picked up on the ground.
 
 130 Child Toilers. 
 
 A dozen big ripe nuts that dropped off their ugly 
 coverings long ago ; and Beth holds in her hand a 
 wide-open burr, with three nuts all cosily packed 
 together inside, like little brown birds in their soft 
 warm nest. For the inside of the burr, you see, is 
 just as delicate and silky as the outside is rough and 
 prickly. Isn't it wonderful, how much care is taken 
 to protect and ripen one little nut? 
 
 Think of those beautiful spring days when the 
 birds and the blossoms unfolded ; when April 
 showers and bright May sunshine bathed and kissed 
 the long fragrant tassels till, one by one, they flew 
 away, and left in their places tiny green balls on the 
 old, weather-beaten tree. 
 
 You could scarcely see them at first, these wee 
 little creatures they were so very small and weak ; 
 but, day by day, the warm sun nourished them, and 
 summer winds tenderly rocked them, till, by and 
 by all over the tree these funny porcupine-look- 
 ing burrs began to peer out in the sauciest manner 
 possible. It seemed as if they knew how much time 
 and care it had taken to make them, and what treas- 
 ures they held inside; for tighter and tighter they 
 clung to the tree, and no rude winds or rains could 
 even peep in at their close-barred doors. It was no 
 admittance to everybody till the little nuts inside
 
 The Chestnut Roasters. 131 
 
 were fully grown and fairly ripe. Then the poor old 
 burrs didn't care Jack Frost and the cold north 
 winds and the driving storms might come and break 
 open the doors whenever they pleased the big 
 brown nuts were now able to take care of themselves, 
 and as for the burrs, why, they were so tired out that 
 they just longed to lie down on the dead leaves, and 
 go quietly to sleep. 
 
 Over the sea, in Gloucestershire, England, is an 
 old, old chestnut tree that has given birth to more 
 than a thousand generations of nuts. In King 
 John's time it was known as a boundary mark ; and I 
 doubt if there is another chestnut tree in all the 
 world that is quite so old as this. 
 
 But, on Mt. Etna, there is a very wonderful one 
 that measures nearly two hundred feet in circumfer- 
 ence. It is hard to imagine a tree so large as this, 
 but just take a bit of string some day and put it 
 around the biggest tree you can^find ; then you will 
 understand better how many trees of ordinary size it 
 would take to make one that would measure two 
 hundred feet around, like this one up on Mt. Etna. 
 One part of the trunk is hollow, and sometimes 
 whole flocks of sheep with their shepherds get inside 
 for protection from the sun or rain. 
 
 Once upon a time, Joanna of Arragon, with a bun-
 
 132 Child Toilers. 
 
 dred horsemen, all from the noble families of Catania, 
 rode up the mountain side ; and just as the royal 
 party reached this wonderful tree, there came up a 
 sudden and very violent storm. 
 
 At first, they hardly knew what to do, but the big 
 tree threw out its great arms so invitingly that they 
 drove in under the branches, and, sure enough, there 
 was plenty of room for them all. Ever after that, 
 the tree was called the " Hundred-Horse Chestnut." 
 
 These European trees are not very different from 
 ours, but the nut that grows upon them is much 
 larger. The best kind for eating, the French call 
 marrows; and all these big nuts that Katie has in 
 her " roaster," have come from over the seas. She 
 charges twenty-five cents a pint for these just 
 double what she does for the natives, for she had 
 to pay a good price for them, herself ; and each one 
 of the foreign nuts is equal to a couple of ours. 
 
 Little Augustus Magini tells me that when they 
 lived in Genoa he used to go out into the chestnut 
 groves about the city and gather the nuts, just as we 
 have been doing to-day. 
 
 "We'd shake the trees, and the big ripe burrs 
 would tumble down," he says. 
 
 " But did you never have any frost there ? 
 
 " P'raps, but it wasn't cold like as it is here. Some- 
 times, though, we did have n lif'le snow."
 
 LITTLE KATIB.
 
 The Chestnut Roasters. 135 
 
 Just think of snow in sunny Italy ; but Genoa, you 
 know, is farther north than Florence and Naples. 
 
 " And they used to grind up the nuts and make 
 flour out of 'em " adds Augustus. 
 
 "And what did they do with the flour make 
 bread and cakes out of it ? " 
 
 Augustus is a little doubtful he was a very little 
 fellow when they left Italy, and he doesn't quite re- 
 member. But we know that puddings cakes, bread, 
 and soup-thickening are made from this kind of 
 chestnut flour, or rather meal ; and all throughout the 
 southern portions of Europe, it forms a staple' article 
 of food among the poor. 
 
 Sometimes, the chestnuts are simply boiled or 
 roasted, and eaten with milk ; but in whatever form 
 they are taken, the nuts contain a deal of nutriment, 
 and I don't know how the working classes could get 
 along without them. For meat costs a deal, and 
 chestnuts there, are very plenty and very cheap. 
 
 Beside the flour, there is a kind of crumb like 
 sugar made from the nut that is quite good for many 
 purposes ; and all throughout Spain, Italy, Switzer- 
 land and Germany, the wood of the sweet chestnut is 
 much valued by cabinet makers and coopers. 
 
 On the banks of the beautiful Rhine, along the 
 slopes of the Jura, the Pyrenees and the Alps, you
 
 136 Child Toilers. 
 
 will find the chestnut tree ; and in England, too, for 
 there it is grown for coppice- wood and for building 
 purposes, as well as for its fruit. 
 
 The wood of the chestnut is very much like oak, 
 both in color and texture ; and when it is well sea- 
 soned, as in old buildings, it is very difficult to tell the 
 two apart. Some say that the roof of Westminster 
 Abbey is really made of chestnut, although it looks 
 exactly like oak, and is usually described as such. 
 
 In our own country, too, we find the native chest- 
 nut wood is often used for hard finish in buildings, 
 and for furniture. Sometimes, it is put with black 
 walnut, and then the contrast of light straw with dark 
 brown is very effective. 
 
 During the latter part of the last century, Thomas 
 Jefferson tried to introduce the European chestnut 
 into Virginia, but I do not think it. has taken very 
 kindly to our soil. We have plenty of horse chestnuts, 
 but these trees are altogether different from the chest- 
 nut whose fruit is fit to eat, and resembles the horse 
 chestnut only in size. The tree itself, is so large and 
 so beautiful both in its form and foliage, I don't won- 
 der Salvator Rosa delighted to bring it, as often as 
 possible, into his paintings. 
 
 But here is little Katie, waiting to give us our pint 
 of chestnuts and our change.
 
 The Chestnut Roasters. 137 
 
 We have wandered " over the seas and far away," 
 but we shall eat our chestnuts with all the better 
 relish, for that. Chestnut vending, during the season, 
 is quite the fashion here in Boston and on the Com- 
 mon you will find another little girl, Adeline Barr by 
 name, who sells chestnuts with her cakes and fruits 
 and candies. 
 
 Her father is a Greek, she tells me, and he is 
 usually at the stand himself ; but when I saw little 
 Adeline, she was " keeping shop " all by herself ; and 
 I couldn't help wondering that so tiny a child should 
 be left to take the entire charge. 
 
 When the chestnuts first come, they seem to mark, 
 as the strawberries do, a decided change of season. 
 
 We can't help calling it " summer " no matter 
 how early it may be whenever the great red berries 
 make their appearance ; and so to-day we say, 
 "Autumn and old Jack Frost have surely come, for 
 don't you see the chestnuts are all ripe, and in the 
 market ?"
 
 THE TELEGRAPH BOYS. 
 
 THERE are about one hundred and seventy- 
 five boys in all, that flit about our Boston 
 streets with these magic telegrams. And a busier set 
 of little fellows except it be the cash boys I 
 don't believe you will find in the whole city. 
 
 The " Western Union " Office, including all its 
 branches, employs about one hundred and fifty boys j 
 and the Main Office on State Street has seventy-five 
 of the whole number. 
 
 I wonder if you have ever noticed their uniform. 
 It is a dark navy blue, and the short coat has upon 
 each shoulder a three-cornered piece of, red; while 
 the pockets, if I remember rightly, and the pantaloons, 
 too, are corded with the same color. 
 
 The cap has a decided military air ; and the raised 
 138
 
 The Telegraph Boys. 139 
 
 letters, " WESTERN UNION TELEGRAPH," are printed 
 in heavy black upon a white band. 
 
 These uniforms are all made in New York, and the 
 boys each buy them of the Company paying fifteen 
 dollars for the suit. 
 
 No boy is allowed to have the position unless he 
 wears the uniform ; and when the regulation was first 
 put in force (a few years ago) it created a good deal 
 of ill-feeling. 
 
 The boys thought it unjust that they should be 
 compelled to spend so large a part of their earnings 
 in this way ; but after a little they began to see how 
 much better it was to have an " official " suit. It 
 gave a certain dignity to their work, and after all 
 the price was just about the same as they would have 
 to pay for any good suit of clothing. 
 
 So I think there is not a word of complaint now-a 
 days about the "regulation." 
 
 The " District Telegraph " boys have a uniform, too, 
 which is very like the " Western Union ; " but if you 
 notice closely you will see that, instead of the three- 
 cornered piece on their shoulders, they have a sort of 
 clover leaf made of scarlet eord. *Then the letters 
 upon their caps are just the reverse in color ; for the 
 words, "District Telegraph," are printed in raised 
 white letters on a black band.
 
 140 Child Toilers. 
 
 The boys employed by the " Atlantic and Pacific 
 Telegraph Company" have gray uniforms, something 
 like the letter carriers ; but we do not often see them 
 on the street for the whole force numbers now only 
 about seventeen boys. 
 
 So much for round figures and uniforms now a 
 word about the boys themselves. Some of the little 
 fellows are seemingly not more than twelve years old, 
 but most of them are between the ages of fourteen 
 and eighteen. Nearly every one is earning his own 
 living, and many of them have others depending 
 upon their earnings. 
 
 The " District Telegraph " boys are paid three and 
 four dollars a week by the Company according to the 
 amount of work they do ; while the "Western Union " 
 boys receive so much for the delivery of each mes- 
 sage. I believe the lowest price paid is two and a 
 half cente, and the highest twenty-five. 
 
 The " Union " boys at the Main Office are arranged 
 in three divisions each numbering twenty-five boys. 
 By this means the day and night work are very 
 evenly divided. 
 
 The boy who* through the week is kept up latest 
 goes by the name of the " Good-night boy." 
 
 Hither and thither all through the city, and at all 
 hours of the day and night, the little fellows hurry
 
 The Telegraph Boys. 141 
 
 along with their dispatches. And just think what 
 important messages they carry in those great yellow 
 envelopes ! 
 
 Here is a " Western Union " cap dodging in and 
 out among the crowds on Washington and Tremont 
 streets. He is hurrying on as fast as he can, for 
 somebody's darling lies just at the point of death, 
 and the few words he carries are fraught with terrible 
 import for somebody. 
 
 While he is on his way, another boy is carrying a 
 message of good news the safe arrival of some 
 dear friend in a foreign port ; and here is another 
 with a mysterious urgent request that only the re- 
 ceiver can understand. 
 
 The rise and the fall of gold, the fluctuations of 
 the market, weather records, war news, political nom- 
 inations, the latest word from Congress all matters, 
 whether of public or private interest, which flash across 
 the wires are recorded at the various Offices and de- 
 livered by these swift, trusty little messengers in an in- 
 credibly short space of time. 
 
 As I stood waiting in the Main Office, and. read 
 upon the walls, "Messages sent at all hours to all 
 parts of the world," I couldn't help contrasting the 
 world of to-day with the world of " a hundred years 
 ago." Then telegraphing seemed but an idle dream, 
 too wonderful to be ever realized.
 
 142 Child Toilers. 
 
 Perhaps you have read how at first they tried for 
 each message as many wires as there are letters of 
 the alphabet; and when, in 1816, Ronalds thought a 
 single wire would do, he was told by the British gov- 
 ernment that " telegraphs of any kind are now wholly 
 unnecessary, and no other than the one now in use 
 will be adopted." 
 
 Just think what a remark that was for enlightened 
 England to make. 
 
 But she couldn't stop the busy brains from think- 
 ing and wondering and planning. 
 
 Dyar, Ampere, Baron Schilling, Moncke and Cooke, 
 one after the other, kept the ball of inquiry and ex- 
 periment constantly in motion ; and each added some 
 new suggestion to the growing idea of a practical 
 system of telegraphing. At last, in 1835, tne fi fst 
 actual electric telegraph was constructed in England 
 from Paddington to Drayton, a distance of thirteen 
 miles. There were five needles connected with it, and 
 the six wires, wound round with hemp, were laid in 
 pipes along the surface of the ground. 
 
 Four years later, a certain Dr. O'Shaughnessy 
 built at Calcutta the first over-ground line of iron 
 wire, which he drew over bamboo poles. 
 
 But it remained for our own countryman, Samuel 
 F. B. Morse, to perfect the great discovery; and it
 
 A TELEGRAPH Bov.
 
 The Telegraph Boys. 145 
 
 was during his voyage home from France in 1832 
 that he first conceived the idea of making signs at a 
 distance, by means of a pencil moved by an electric 
 magnet. The model he formed had but one conduct- 
 ing medium, and the paper was moved under the 
 pencil by clock work. This he made in 1835, but it 
 was not till 1844 that the first public telegraph was 
 laid in our country. It extended from Washington 
 to Baltimore, a distance, as you remember, of forty 
 miles. Since then, there has been no end to the lines 
 of telegraphing that have been laid all over our 
 country from the Atlantic to the Pacific coast ; and now, 
 as you know, the great ocean itself is spanned by the 
 same magic wire ; for Cyrus Field conquered every 
 difficulty and showed us how even the deep waters 
 could be made a connecting medium. 
 
 Of course my WIDE AWAKE readers know how the 
 messages travel over the wires ; but perhaps they do 
 not quite understand what the District Telegraph 
 means; there are only four offices in Boston one at 
 the South End Post Office, one at the State House, 
 another on Brimmer Street, and the fourth at the 
 Brunswick Hotel. It was at this latter office that I 
 saw how the system worked. 
 
 There are ten boys employed here, and they are on 
 duty ten hours each day. Of this number, two are
 
 146 Child Toilers. 
 
 up all night, and the ten take turns in sharing this 
 night work. Their uniform I described as being very 
 similar though quite distinct from the Western Union 
 boys ; and I might have added that it is a good deal 
 fresher-looking, for the " District " boys have not 
 been so long in " office." 
 
 At the Brunswick, there are three circuits of the 
 District Telegraph ; and as the name implies the lines 
 are all confined to city limits. The various wires in 
 the office are connected with private houses and are 
 for the especial convenience of those who may desire 
 immediate attendance. 
 
 A strip of paper passes under the electric needle, 
 and each of the three circuits^ has a separate instru- 
 ment. While I was there a call came from one of 
 the circuits, so I had the satisfaction of seeing just 
 how the whole thing was managed. 
 
 When the needle moves a bell rings once, if it is 
 just an errand boy that is wanted ; twice, if a police- 
 man is called ; and three times if any one desires a 
 hack to be sent to his residence. Well, this time the 
 bell rang twice, very violently, too, and the clerk in 
 charge quickly lifted up the paper under the needle, 
 read the number of dots pricked upon it opened a 
 little drawer just above that had the same number 
 printed upon it, found in the drawer the gentleman's
 
 The Telegraph Boys, 147 
 
 address ; and, in far less time than I can possibly 
 write it down, it was all done and the policeman run- 
 ning fast to relieve the frightened household. 
 
 The truth was that in one of those pretty brown 
 stone fronts on the Back Bay there was just then, 
 even while I sat there, a great commotion. 
 
 It seems hardly possible that anything of the kind 
 could occur in such a locality of the city ; but we 
 must remember that even in the most elegant of 
 mansions there must always be a " down-stairs " as 
 well as an " up stairs." 
 
 Now a certain Maria in one of these lower domains, 
 had been cook and queen for so many years that 
 nobody thought of disputing her rights- She could 
 make the whitest of bread, the puffiest of pastry, the 
 lightest, most mouth-melting of cakes indeed, there 
 seemed to be nothing in all Miss Parloa's art to which 
 this fat Maria was not equal. But alas ! she had one 
 great failing and the little black bottle on the cor- 
 ner shelf in the cupboard told the whole story. 
 
 Well, on this particular day that I began to tell you 
 about, the children up in the nursery heard a great 
 outcry from the basement. 
 
 Harry was the boldest of the little trio, and scam- 
 pered down stairs to see what was the matter ; but 
 eoon, with all the color out his rosy cheeks, he came
 
 148 Child Toilers. 
 
 running back crying at the top of his lungs. The 
 little fellow was terribly frightened, but managed to 
 tell his mamma that there was a big rough man in the 
 kitchen, that Maria had thrown a plate at him, and 
 that her face was just as red as red could be ! 
 
 " Oh, dear ! " exclaimed nurse ; " it is that horrid 
 son of hers and they are having a regular drunken 
 quarrel clown there dear, I shouldn't wonder if they 
 killed each other ! dear, what shall we do ? " 
 
 Nobody dared go down and separate them, but sud- 
 denly mamma thought of the District Telegraph that 
 had been brought to the house only a few days 
 before. 
 
 " Why, we can send right away for a policeman I 
 never thought we should need our telegraph for 
 this!" 
 
 A little click of the magnetic wire, twice repeated, 
 an answering " click click " at the office, and then 
 a third "click, click" at the Police Station (for 
 there are wires from each District Telegraph Office 
 to the various Fire Departments, Hack Stands and 
 Police Stations in the city); and then, before Harry was 
 half through his crying, the policeman stood at the 
 door. 
 
 The boys tell me that, of the four uses made of the 
 District Telegraphing, the call for messengers to run 
 errands comes the most frequently \ then the call for
 
 The Telegraph Boys. 149 
 
 hacks ; while the alarm of fire is about as frequent as 
 the double click for policemen. 
 
 At the Office at Hotel Brunswick, many of the 
 boys understand how to manage the telegraph battery 
 themselves ; and one little fellow who has been there 
 quite a long time receives an extra dollar a week for 
 work done in the Office. 
 
 At the State House Office thirty " District " boys 
 are employed ; at the South End Post Office ten ; and 
 at the Brimmer Street Office only three are needed. 
 
 It is about four years since the system of this Dis- 
 trict telegraphing was put into working order j and a 
 year ago last August a Telephone Despatch Company 
 was formed. The three offices of this latter Company 
 are on Washington Street, Charles Street, and under 
 Hotel Berkeley. 
 
 Only sixteen boys are as yet employed in all the 
 telephone offices combined ; but as the business 
 increases the number needed will of course be larger. 
 
 Their uniform is hardly distinguishable from the 
 " District " boys except by the caps which have " Tell 
 ephone Despatch Co." in gilt letters upon the black 
 band. 
 
 The different circuits go to private houses in the 
 city, and the principal advantage the telephone sys- 
 tem has over telegraphy is that spoken words travel 
 even faster than those electrically written.
 
 SUGAR PLUMS. Poems by ELLA FARMAN. Pic- 
 tures by Miss C. A. Northam. Price, $t oo. D. Lothrop 
 & Co., Boston. 
 
 This collection of sweets, which the critics say is the 
 best verse-boolcpublished since " Lilliput Levee," will prob- 
 ably prove to be one of the most popular Christmas-Tree 
 books of the season. The poems are written from a child's 
 own point-of-view, and some of them, like " Learning to 
 Count," "Baby's Frights," " Pinkie-Winkie-Posie-Bell," 
 will be perennial favorites in the nursery. While the book 
 is sure to captivate the baby-memory, we will whisper to 
 the mothers that there is not an idle "jingle " in the vol- 
 ume, but that every verse will subtly give a refining and 
 shaping touch to the little child-soul. The book is at- 
 tractively bound, handsomely illustrated, and ought to be 
 found in every Christmas Stocking in the land. 
 
 Ask your Bookseller for it. 
 
 POEMS IN COMPANY WITH CHILDREN. By 
 MRS. S. M. B. PIATT. Illustrated. Price, $i 50. D. 
 Lothrop & Co., Boston. 
 
 A mother's book one of those dainty, treasured vol- 
 umes of poetry which naturally find a resting-place in the 
 mother's work-basket, always at hand, to be taken up in a 
 tender moment. It abo contains many poems to be read 
 aloud in the twilight hour when the children gather around 
 mother's knee. Of its literary excellence it is needless to 
 speak as Mrs. Piatt stands at the head of American womeo 
 poets.
 
 OUT OF DARKNESS INTO LIGHT. By Mary A. Lathbury. 
 
 With eight masterly character drawings, full page, with 
 
 poems and exquisite vignettes. Fine binding. Quarto. 
 
 Boston: D. Lothrop & Co. Price, .s:J.OO. 
 
 We have no hesitation in pronouncing this one of the 
 most attractive presentation books which baa been brought 
 out iu this city for many seasons. Elegantly bound and su- 
 perbly illustrated, displaying the utmost art of artist and 
 printer, its literary merit is of the highest order. The au- 
 thor, Miss Mary A. Lathbury, is both artist and poet. In. 
 the several poems which make up the Ifook she traces the 
 gradual coming out from the thick darkness of doubt and 
 unbelief into the full broad day of faith and religious trust. 
 They are sweetly and delicately written, and will appeal to 
 many hearts whose experiences have been similar. The 
 drawings with which Miss Lathbury accompanies her poems 
 express in form what her pen has done in words. So full of 
 moaning has she made them that they almost alone tell the 
 story of the doubt, the struggle, the anguish and the convic- 
 tion which so many have experienced in their attempts to 
 attain to a higher spiritual life. The vignettes are no less 
 artistic and expressive, each one being emblematic of some 
 sentiment contained in the poem to which it belongs. To 
 those who celebrate Christmas as a religious festival as well 
 as to those who are of a thoughtful turn of mind, the vol- 
 ume will have a peculiar yahie. Most holiday volumes serve 
 only for the season in which they appear, but the one before 
 us possesses those peculiar elements which make it a stand- 
 ard work, unaffected by the lapse of time or seasons. 
 
 THE CHILDREN'S ALMANAC. FOR 1879-80-81-82-83. Edited 
 By Ella Farman. Boston : D. Lothrop & Co. 
 This unique little volume, which for beauty and intrinsic 
 value will compare with many of the high-priced annuals, 
 contains peculiar attractions which will render it one of the 
 best selling books of the season. The calendar which 
 reaches over five years gives it a value which the ordinary 
 almanac does not possess. Each month is represented by an 
 original poem from the pen of a distinguished American 
 author, the list of contributors numbering such names as 
 Longfellow, Whittier, Aldrich, Celia Thaxter, Mrs. A. D. T. 
 Whitney, Edgar Fawcett, and others. Accompanying these 
 poems are twelve exquisite drawings on wood by Miss Hum- 
 phrey, and four beautiful chromo-lithographs by Miss Lath- 
 bury. As if these attractions were not enough, the editor 
 __ has prepared twelve pages of birthday mottoes from the 
 ' poets, making a single line motto for every day in the year. 
 Blank memoranda leaves are inserted for the benefit of those 
 who wish to put down notes or make record of daily occur- 
 rences. Two editions are issued, one in plain cloth, at 
 50 cents, and the other with silver-and-gold cover gilt edges, 
 at $1.00.
 
 AMY AND MARION'S VOYAGE AROUND THE WORLD. By 
 Surah 13. Adams. Boston: D. Lothrop & Co. 16mo. 390 
 pages $1.25. 
 
 Th in handsome volume, from the pen of the daughter of 
 a distinguished Boston clergyman, is the record of a trip 
 around the world in an East India merchantman, made a year 
 or two since by two young ladies, one of whom was the 
 author. Sailing from Boston, the first land touched was 
 San Francisco. From there, after a brief stay, the voyagers 
 proceeded to Honolulu, thence to the Chinese coast, where 
 the cities of Hong Kong, Canton, Singapore, Amoy, Shang- 
 hai and Macao were visited in turn. The ship then sailed 
 for the Philippine Islands; and at Manila, one of the loveliest 
 and most picturesque cities of the Southern Pacific, two or 
 three happy weeks were spent. From that pore the home- 
 ward course was taken, the vessel doubling the Cape of 
 Good Hope and sailing up the African coast. The story of 
 the voyage is gracefully and vividly told. The jolly times 
 on shipboard; the sights seen from deck; rough weather 
 experiences; the excursions made at the various stopping 
 places, and the adventures and misadventures attendant 
 upon them; the scenery, customs of the different people 
 visited, together with innumerable incidents of the trip, are 
 described with a freshness and vigor which render every 
 page of the book thoroughly enjoyable. The illustrations 
 which accompany the text are made doubly interesting from 
 the fact that they are engraved from photographs procured 
 on the spot and brought home by the author. 
 
 JESTTS, LOVER OF MY SOUL. Exquisitely illustrated. An 
 elegant small Quarto gift-book. Gilt edges. A compan- 
 ion volume to " The Ninety and Nine." Boston: D. Loth- 
 rop & Co. Price, $1.00. 
 
 There is no more beautiful hymn in the English language 
 than the one which furnishes the title of this exquisite little 
 volume. Many readers will remember the affecting story of 
 the wreck, where one of the lady passengers, cut off from all 
 hope of escape, clinging to a rock from which every wave 
 threatened to tear her hold, poured out her soul in these 
 sweet words of trust. The artist, Mr. Robert Lewis, has 
 seized upon this incident as the subject of one of his most 
 effective drawings. The entire series of illustrations are ex- 
 ceedingly fine, the work of Mr. Lewis as draughtsman hav- 
 ing been ably supplemented by that of Mr. Dana as the en- 
 graver. The volume forms a beautiful presentation book, 
 and though equally attractive with the three and five dollar, 
 volumes which fill the counters of our bookstores, is sold at 
 the nominal price of one dollar. The interest of the work is 
 larely added to by an eloquent preface from the pen of the 
 Rev. \V. B. Wright, of the Berkeley Street, Church.
 
 LITTLE Miss MISCHIEF AND HER HAPPY THOUGHTS. 
 
 Adapted from the French of P. J. Stalil by Ella Farman. 
 
 Boston : D. Lothrop & Co. Price, 75 cts. 
 
 In a series of capitally drawn sketches the artist tells the 
 story (assisted by the author) of a mischievous little girl who 
 undertook while her mother was confined to her room by ill- 
 ness, to set things to rights generally about the house. She 
 paints mustaches on a portrait which her artist papa has just 
 finished; tries to color the lap-dog's face black with ink and 
 spills it over herself and the floor; attempts to wash her 
 papa's gray hat with the inky sponge; breaks the mantel 
 clock in trying to wind it; pours boiling water into the globe 
 of goldfish to make them more comfortable; cuts off the 
 corners of her mamma's nice shawl so it will not drag in the 
 street, and does a variety of other things which no one but 
 an idle and inquisitive little girl would ever think of doing. 
 The book is printed on fine paper, with double line border 
 about every page. 
 LITTLE Miss MUSLIN. HER FORTUNES AND MISFORTUNES. 
 
 By John Brownjohn. Boston: D. Lothrop & Co. 50 cts. 
 
 Everybody has read and laughed over the adventures of 
 Miltiades Peterkin Paul, which were brought out in a taste- 
 ful quarto volume last holiday season. Miltiades, it appears, 
 had a cousin, a charming young lady of six or seven, who, 
 although city born and bred, possessed certain peculiarities 
 which rendered their companionship congenial. Miss Mus- 
 lin, for that was her name, was continually doing something 
 to get herself or some one else into a scrape. Her experi- 
 ences after a time were varied by a visit to Miltiades in the 
 country. The troubles they get themselves into and what 
 was said and done about them are told in detail by the author 
 in the same offhand, humorous style in which the adventures 
 of Miltiades were chronicled. The drawings are from the 
 pencil of Livingston Hopkins, one of the best American 
 caricaturists. The volume is got up as a companion to the 
 book of last year. 
 Music FOR OUR DARLINGS. Edited by Dr. Eben Tourjee 
 
 Fully Illustrated. Boston: D. Lothrop & Co. Price, $1.25. 
 
 Hundreds of young readers will remember the beautiful 
 book issued last year called Poems for Our Darlings. It 
 proved so successful that this season the Messrs. Lothrop 
 have brought out a companion volume called Music for Our 
 Darliitys, containing nearly forty favorite pieces of music, 
 most of them with piano accompaniment. Among them are 
 "Pretty Fido," "Turkey Song for Thankgiving," "The 
 Squirrel," "Gentle Robin Redbreast, " "The Railway 
 Train," etc. In addition there are prefatory sketches and 
 articles on music by Prof. Tourjee, who edits the books, 
 and over fifty full-page engravings. It is beautifully bound 
 in cloth, wiih black and gold ornamentation.
 
 LINKS IN REBECCA'S LIFE. By "Pansy." Price, $1.50. 
 Boston: D. Lotbrop & Co. 
 
 "Pansy" has no rival as an author of the hest class of 
 Sunday-school books. Her " Ester Ried" and "Chautauqua 
 Girls " series are models in that important line of literature. 
 Her new book, " Links in Rebecca's Life," is worthy of a 
 place in the same list. This book is an admirable one. Its 
 tone is healthy and stimulating, without a trace of senti- 
 mentalism or cant: and its characters are thoroughly natu- 
 ral, such as any reader can recognize in the community in 
 which be happens to live. The heroine, Rebecca, is intense- 
 ly human, with a noble nature in which many weaknesses 
 hide themselves and come often to the surface. But she is 
 a Christian of the best type, and her aspirations and hard- 
 fought battles inspire enthusiasm in a reader. The Com- 
 mittee on International Lessons couldn't do a better thing 
 than to circulate this book in every part of the land. It 
 shows how the lessons may be made helpful in the daily 
 life, and how the Old Testament may be taught witli in- 
 terest to an Infant School, or to men and women of every 
 congregation. 
 
 ECHOING AND RE-ECHOING. By Faye Huntlngton. Price 
 $1.50. Boston: D. Lothrop & Co., publishers. 
 
 It shows great ignorance of the Sunday-school literature 
 of our day, when one calls it weak and namby-stuff, with an 
 equal mixture of love-stories, and impossible adventures. 
 The censure is just for a certain class of books, but a large 
 library may be gathered of first-class works admirable alike 
 in moral tone and in literary execution, books which every- 
 body can read with delight and profit. "Echoing and Re- 
 echoing" is a book of this sort, a well-told story, abounding 
 with practical lessons, and inciting to a noble Christian life. 
 The most intelligent opponent of religious novels will find 
 his prejudices giving way in reading it, and a fastidious lit- 
 erary reader will be thankful that children have such good 
 books for moulding their literary tastes.
 
 B. BY BUXTIXO. Short Stories wUh Bright Pictures. 3y 
 the Best American Authors. Boston: D. Lotbrop & Co. 
 Price, $1.00. 
 
 Baby Bunting is a beautiful quarto with one of tho most 
 attractive outsides we have seen for a long time. It is made 
 up of choice stories adapted to the reading of children from 
 f mr to eight years of age. They are all short, few of them 
 being ovr a page in length, and each is accompanied by a 
 full page engraving. It is just the kind of book that ought 
 to be popular, and undoubtedly will be. 
 
 YOUNG FOLKS' HISTOBY OF GERMANY. By Charlotte M. 
 
 Yon go. Boston: D. Lothrop & Co. Price. $1.50. 
 
 This handsome volume is the first of a series, which will 
 include the principal countries of Europe, the succeeding 
 numbers of which will appear at brief intervals. Miss 
 Yonge, whose talents have been exerted in various directions 
 for the benefit of young readers, has been peculiarly success- 
 ful in this series, which has had a very large sale in Europe, 
 and deserves a like popularity here. It covers not only the 
 entire period of Gentian civilization down to the present 
 time, but it gives an account of ancient Germany and its in- 
 habitants in time which might almost be called pre-historic. 
 The first chapters are explanatory of the German mythology, 
 and of the ancient methods of worship. The N"ibelungen 
 Lied is described and its story tokl. The real history begins 
 about the year 490 A. D., at a time when the Pranks were 
 the victorious race in Europe. From that time down to the 
 beginning of the present year the record is continuous. The 
 volume is profusely illustrated. 
 
 HAPPY MOODS OP HAPPY CHILDREN. Original Poems. 
 
 By favorite American authors. Boston: D. Lothrop & 
 
 Co. Price $1.00. 
 
 We venture to say that no publishing house in the country 
 will issue this season anything choicer in the way of a pre- 
 sentation book of poems than this charming volume. The 
 poems it contains were written expressly for Mr. Lothrop, 
 and have never before been brought together in collected 
 form. Among the authors represented are Elizabeth Stuait 
 Phelps, Clara Doty Bates, Margaret G. Preston, Ella Farman, 
 Mrs. Piatt, Harriet McEweu Kimball, Mary A. Lathbnry, 
 Nora Perry, Mrs. L. C. Whiton, Celia Thaxt'er, Edgar Faw- 
 cett, and many others. Although the volume is ostensibly 
 preferred for children, it is one which grown-up people will 
 equally enjoy. There are a score or^moreof illustrations, 
 most of them full-page, exquisitely drawn and engraved.
 
 is one of the most popular 
 
 YOUNG RICK. By Julia A. Eastman. Large 
 
 i6mo. Twelve illustrations by Sol Eytinge . $i 50 
 
 A bright, fascinating story of a little boy who was both a bless- 
 . ing and a bother. Boston Journal. 
 
 The most delightful book on the list for the children of the 
 family, being full of adventures and gay home scenes and merry 
 play-times. "Paty" would have done credit to Dickens in his 
 palmiest days. The strange glows and shadows of her character 
 are put in lovingly and lingeringly, with the pencil of a master. 
 Miss Margaret's character of light is admirably drawn, while Aunt 
 Lesbia, Deacon Harkaway, Tom Dorrance, and the master and 
 mistress of Graythorpe poor-house are genuine "charcoal 
 sketches." 
 
 STRIKING FOR THE RIGHT. By Julia 
 
 A. Eastman. Large i6mo. Illustrated . i 75 
 
 While this story holds the reader breathless with expectancy 
 and excitement, its civilizing influence in the family is hardly to 
 be estimated. In all quarters it has met with the warmest praise. 
 
 THE ROMNEYS OF RIDGEMONT. By 
 
 Julia A. Eastman. i6mo. Illustrated . i 50 
 
 BEULAH ROMNEY. By Julia A. Eastman. 
 
 16 mo. Illustrated ..... i 50 
 
 Two stories wondrously alive, flashing with fun, sparkling with 
 tears, throbbing with emotion. The next best thing to attending 
 Mrs. Hale's big boarding-school is to read Beulah's experience 
 there. 
 
 SHORT-COMINGS AND LONG-GOINGS. 
 
 By Julia A. Eastman. 16 mo. Illustrated, i 25 
 
 A remarhabls book, crowded with remarkable characters. It 
 is a picture gallery of human nature. 
 
 KITTY KENT'S TROUBLES. By Julia 
 
 A. Eastman. 16 mo. Illustrated . i 50 
 
 "A delicious April-day style of book, sunshiny with smiles on 
 one page while the next is misty with tender tears. Almost every 
 type of American school-girl is here represented the vain Helen 
 Dart, the beauty, Amy Searle, the ambitious, high bred, conserv- 
 ative Anna Matson ; but next to Kitty herself sunny little Paul- 
 ine Sedgewick will prove the general favorite. It is a story fully 
 calculated to win both girls and boys toward noble, royal ways of 
 doing little as well as great things. All teachers should feel an 
 interest in placing it in thu hand.; of their pupils."
 
 THE CHAUTAUQUA GIRLS AT HOME- 
 By Pansy. I2mo. Illustrated I 50 
 
 ' Pansy knows girls, and has the gift of story-telling, by which 
 tha hard facts of every-day life take on a charm as of fairy-land. No 
 one can look into 'The Chautauqua Girls' without feeling the 
 subtle fascination of its pictures of quiet life, and being drawn into 
 warm sympathy with the four friends who long to form noble char- 
 acters. They have been won to a love of Jesus by attending a 
 camp-meeting at Chautauqua ; but they find it so hard to be true 
 to their new impulses, and to carry the spirit of the Bible into 
 every-day life, that the story of their struggles, disheartening fail- ' 
 ures relieved by partial successes, is very human and full of genuine 
 pathos. It is good summer reading, for beguiling away hours, and 
 inspiring with generous purposes.*' 
 
 "Pansy's last book, 'The Chautauqua Girls at Home,' is as 
 fresh and inspiring as a fine morning in June. The four friends, 
 Marion, Ruth, Flossy and Eurie, are of genuine flesh and blood, 
 with the petty weaknesses that flesh is heir to, and the noble aspi- 
 rations that come at times to every high-minded girl. Their unlike- 
 ness to each other in character and social position, and their mutual 
 helpfulness in all sorts of difficulties, make a delightful story ; in- 
 structive as well as fascinating. One finds it hard to lay down the 
 book after beginning the first chapter. It will find many readers 
 who will welcome its stimulating power to high aims in life, and to 
 patience and hope in fighting hard battles." 
 
 Boston: D, LOTHROP & CO., Publishers.
 
 WIDE AWAKE, 
 
 .A. 33- 
 
 Illustrated Monthly Magazine 
 
 FOR YOUNG PEOPLE. 
 &2.00 A YEAR. - - 20 CENTS A NUMBER. 
 
 Postage paid by Publishers. 
 
 THE VOLUMES OF 
 
 Begin with January and July, but Subscriptions may begin 
 
 AT ANY Tl ME. 
 J). LOTIIROP & CO., Publishers, Boston. 
 
 WIDE AWAKE is bright and fresh. It is full of good things in 
 print and pictures, and a vein of cheery humor runs through it 
 which its young readers will find particularly agreeable. The 
 Magazine is a thoroughly good and a thoroughly wholesome one. 
 WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT'S PAPER, The New York Evening 
 Post. 
 
 Messrs. D. Lothrop & Co., Boston, publish the best and most 
 delightful books for Home Libraries. Their list includes every 
 style and grade, from the Large Print Picture Book for the 
 Nursery, to the Student's octavo volume. 
 
 CHARMING STORIES, BIOGRAPHY, 
 
 SKETCHES, HISTORY, 
 
 and RELIGIOUS WORKS. 
 
 Their books being approved by a Committee of Eminent [-it- 
 erators, selections may be made with the utmost confidence 
 that none but good books are on their catalogue. The Contrib- 
 utor.
 
 POPULAR HOOKS. 
 
 ESTER REID $1.50 
 
 JULIA REID, 1.50 
 
 THREE PEOPLE, 1.50 
 
 THE KING'S DAUGHTER, .... 1.50 
 
 WISE AND OTHERWISE, . . . .1.50 
 
 HOUSEHOLD PUZZLES, .... 1.50 
 
 THE RANDOLPHS, . . . .. .1.50 
 
 FOUR GIRLS AT CHAUTAUQUA, ... 1.50 
 
 CUNNING WORKMEN, 1.25 
 
 GRANDPA'S DARLINGS, .... 1.25 
 
 JESSIE WELLS, 75 
 
 DOCIA'S JOURNAL .75 
 
 BERNIE'S WHITE CHICKEN; to which is added, 
 
 THE DIAMOND BRACELET, ... .75 
 HELEN LESTER ; to which is added, NANNIE'S EX- 
 PERIMENT. 75 
 
 A CHRISM AS TIME, . . .15 
 
 MODERN PROPHETS, .... $1.50 
 DR. DEANITS WAT, . . . 1.25 
 
 THOSE BOYS, . . : . $1.50 
 
 MRS. DEANS' S WAT, , 1.25 
 
 D. LOTHEOP Ss CO., Publishers.
 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 A 000020538 5