Ernest Slocum, aged 14, was the first defendant in the Children's Court of Rome, N. Y. The case was the result of trouble with an Italian boy of about the same age, the son of Frank Domenico. The Italian boy's story was that young Slocum, without provocation, knocked him down and struck him with a stone, while Slocum's side, as told by witnesses, is that his younger brother was assaulted by the informant, and that he himself was struck by an apple core thrown by the young person who charged assault. Slocum pursued young Domenico a short distance down the street, but was frightened away before reaching him by shouts from the boy's father. The defendant was discharged.

Judge Smith is arranging to open a Juvenile Court in North Tonawanda, New York, in compliance with Chapters 331 and 613 of the laws of 1903, amending respectively sub-division seven, section 291 of title 10 of the Penal Code with relation to children's courts and sections II, 483 and 487 of the Code of Criminal Procedure in relation to the appointment and duties of probation officers and the powers and duties of courts and justices with relation to persons placed on probation.

The first use of the Children's Court under the new law was made in Niagara Falls, N. Y., October 6, when Roy Buckhout and Charles Whitney were arraigned before Acting Police Judge Piper on a charge of disorderly conduct. The boys were complained of by the sexton of St. Peter's Episcopal Church, who claimed that they had acted in a disorderly manner by throwing

missiles in the vicinity of the church. They were turned over to the custody of their mothers, who were appointed temporary probation officers, no regular probation officers having been appointed by the court. In accordance with the provisions of the law a child turned over to the custody of a probation officer must report his conduct to that officer at stated intervals. Children under a certain age are not to be arraigned in a court room into which criminals are brought. This is necessary in Niagara Falls, however, as there is no room for a separate court room. The provisions of the law are carried out as near as possible, however, by setting an hour for examinations at a time sufficiently removed so that children will not come into contact with criminals who are arraigned in the regular police court.

A bill has been introduced in the Alabama legislature for the establishment of a court in Birmingham for the trial of juvenile offenders. The bill proposes to make the new court a division of the present police court to be presided over by the judge of that tribunal. It is to have full power and authority "to adopt all such rules of practice and procedure in and for said court as the nature of the business of such court should require; and may from time to time change or modify the rules, so as to facilitate the transaction of business in the court, according to the true intent of this act, and while holding such court, or in transacting any of the business thereof, shall have and exercise all the privileges and powers, that are or may be by law conferred upon the judge of the police court of Birmingham."

In other words, the court is to be a tribunal for dealing with

juvenile offenders under 14 years of age and is to be in charge of the regular police court judge. The idea is to separate these offenders from the older criminals and seek to deal with them in such a manner as to make them good citizens instead of hardened law-breakers. Judge Feagin, who has deeply at heart the reformation of the wayward youth of Birmingham, suggested the idea. "Juvenile Offenders in the City of Detroit," is the title of the September publication of the Michigan Political Science Association. The text is by Richard A. Bolt, a student at the University of Michigan, who carried on several months of research work in Detroit, acting on a university fellowship. After reviewing the conditions in Detroit, the source of juvenile offenders, and their legal status, Mr. Bolt recommends the establishment of a juvenile court and a probation system as being better than outright imprisonment for the correction of the young. Bad children are stated to result from bad home environment, bad economic conditions, bad moral and political conditions. "Each juvenile represents a separate problem, with conditions that must be studied. No set standard of punishment will serve to reform juveniles in general."

Upon petition of Prosecuting Attorney Edward Daniels, the Circuit Court October 9 appointed six members of the Board of Child Guardians for Tipton county, Indiana. The statutes have provided for such a board for several years, but they have not been complied with in this county. The board is a corporate body under the above name and may sue and be sued the same as any other corporation. It is the duty of this board to look after and investigate cases of destitute or mistreated children under the age of 15 and children of that age whose environments are not conducive to their good. It is the duty of the board to correct such matters by having such children committed to the proper institutions or placed in some good home.

The following members were appointed by Judge Elliott: Hon. R. B. Beauchamp and Mrs. Sadie Standerford to serve for one year, Rev. G. W. Brown and Mrs. John Kemp, to serve for two years, Dr. H. E. Grishaw and Mrs. M. T. Shiel to serve for three years. These were selected by reason of their conceded fitness for the place and were appointed without being consulted, being considered by the court as a matter of duty as good citizens.

There is still a desultory agitation for the establishment of a bar of justice for juvenile offenders in conjunction with police court in Cincinnati, but the idea is not favored by Hon. Scott Holmes, Cincinnati's presecuting attorney. "If conditions were as in other states," he said, "it would be an excellent plan, but in Cincinnati there is no need for it. When a juvenile is placed under arrest he is sent to the Place of Detention, far removed from the police habitual. His trial is conducted inside the railing and is given as much privacy as possible. If the offense is so flagrant that punishment is necessary, the juvenile is sent to the House of Refuge, reformatory or protectory. Thus, during the whole proceeding, he does not mingle the slightest with the hardened criminal or degenerate. I don't see how a juvenile court could be an improvement over that system. Some time ago we attempted to try juvenile cases in the private office after the close of the docket, but parents and others objected because they had too long to wait. Another point is that we have very few juvenile cases in Cincinnati, unlike New York, Chicago and other cities which abound in young offenders. Here there is hardly an average of five cases a week."

that is the case with a Jewish child, Miss Marcus assumes, in a measure, the responsibility for his conduct while his term of probation lasts. As a rule, the Jewish mother welcomes Miss Marcus' visits. She gives her her confidence, and in return finds in her a friend and an adviser. The boys, too, are willing to talk their troubles over with her, and by a little friendly and wise guidance at the critical time of his first probation, it is believed that many a boy is saved from committing a second offense.

**

County Judge Ross of Syracuse, N. Y., has been corresponding with the attorney general of New York in an endeavor to arrange some feasible plan to follow in that city. Judge Ross is heartily in favor of the new law and has done much toward its furtherance. One of the questions which is being considered is to find an appropriate place to hold the court. "I do not think it at all practical," said the judge, recently, "to institute a rule that the court shall not be used for other purposes. I see no necessity for it, because if you try to exclude the public you will at once encroach upon its constitutional rights."

"Do you advocate a different court room from the one used in the prosecution of other criminal cases?" he was asked.

"I do not," replied Judge Ross. "It is the sanctity of the proceedings not the room that I would hold to. For instance, I maintain that if necessary one can conduct a religious meeting with as much zeal in a room formerly used by the grand jury as they could in a church. There is no use trying to exclude the public-nor the reporters," concluded the judge with a smile.

When Judge Ross was asked concerning publicity being given to the trials of children, he said that the people had no constitutional right to exclude newspaper men, but that he considered it would be desirable if some agreement could be entered into with the press to assure privacy.

** *

The report of the work of the Kansas City juvenile court from April 17 to September 18 has been issued by W. C. Johnson, probation officer. Sixty sessions of the court were held, with Judge Gibson presiding the first half and Judge Teasdale the latter half.

Mr. Johnson's figures show there were arrested five girls and 141 boys. Forty-six boys were discharged and four sent out of the city. Three were committed to the Children's home and eight to the reform school, while nine have removed from Kansas City. Seventy-one are on probation. The average age of the culprits is II years, and their offenses range from violations of the curfew law and petit larceny to manslaughter, drunkenness and highway robbery. The girls' offenses were light. Mr. Johnson adds this paragraph:

"In keeping the record careful investigation was made as to the principal cause of delinquency among children. This is shown to be largely due to domestic troubles, usually caused by the separation or divorces of parents. More than one-half, or seventyseven of these, come from such 'homes.'"

The latest line of work in which the Boston, Mass., Council of Jewish Women has engaged is in connection with the Juvenile Court of that city. This is the first organization of women in Boston to enter this particular field of philanthropy. The council has employed Miss Hattie Marcus of 79 Bower street, Roxbury, to carry on among Jewish children who are under arrest work similar to that of a state probation officer. Miss Marcus works under the direction of a special committee chosen by the council. Mrs. Julius Andrew, the president of the council, is the chairman of this committee.

Miss Marcus, who is 22, has been engaged in Juvenile Court work since last February. She was born in Boston, and possesses a winning personality that is difficult for children to resist. During the four months that she has been connected with the Juvenile Court she has kept a record of 30 cases. Miss Marcus attends the second session of the court at Pemberton square every day, which is the session at which the children's cases are tried. The room is cleared of all adult offenders before the juveniles are allowed to enter.

As soon as a Jewish child is arrested Miss Marcus looks him up and submits the information gained to the judge. Usually a youthful offender is put on probation for a certain period. When

WITH FOSTER MOTHER.

LUCY A LITTLE WHITE SLAVE.

Sometimes "God works in a mysterious way His wonders to perform." Sometimes it is necessary to chasten those whom He loves in order to bring about a better condition of affairs for them. If Lucy Hearto had been fairly well treated she would, in all probability, have remained in the Italian quarter all her life, have married an Italian organ grinder, raised a brood of Italian children, grown early into a sere and yellow, witchy looking Italian dame, and died amidst the same sordid surroundings in which she was born and reared up to a few days ago. But instead of this Lucy was starved, and beaten and kicked about until her frail strength gave out and she fell unconscious from hunger and exhaustion. Then when everything seemingly looked the darkest for the little girl, things took a turn for the better. She was snatched out of her evil environments, fed and petted until she smiled for the first time in her short but strenuous life, and now she is to be placed in a good home, and the whole state of Illinois, working through the officers of the Juenile Court, will see to it that from now on Lucy has all the advantages of education that are hers by right. God alone knows what the possibilities of that life will be, but any way, Lucy will be given a chance to bring out the very best that is in her.

Lucy Hearto lived down on South Jefferson street, in that God-forsaken part of Chicago where people dwell in tumbledown, ramshackle frame houses that look as if the lightest breath of wind would blow them over and an ordinary gale would wipe them off the face of the earth-in that part of Chicago where from ten to thirty people live in one room with grim poverty ever as a fellow-tenant-poverty so sordid and gray that it makes one shudder to think of it.

The Hearto family came to Chicago from sunny Italy twelve months ago, and since that time life has been a burden to the little 10-year-old Lucy, daily becoming more intolerable until she fainted under its load. Early in the morning, so early as to be almost heathenish, Lucy would be awakened with a kick and commanded to bestir herself. Sometimes her parents would throw a crust of bread at the child but usually she had no breakfast. Then, before most children were turning over in bed for the last forty winks, Lucy would take her place between the handles of a broken-down old hand-organ, and begin her weary day's work. Until well near the next dawn, the tired child would be forced to tramp over miles of pavement beside her father, or John De Miva, her cousin. She rattled a tambourine and danced to the piping of the old hand-organ and then passed the tin cup for pennies.

Up one street and down another the footsore, heartsick little girl would trudge. Sometimes they would venture into the fashionable districts, then again they would travel through the streets where God's poor huddle together. Lucy rather preferred the wealthy district, for there she seldom saw children

eating. It always made Lucy sad when she saw another child eating anything, for she was always hungry. Only when people would give her food did she get anything to eat.

The children of the rich seldom eat on the street, whereas the poorer ones are at all times munching an apple, or a piece of candy, or a crust of bread. Therefore, in order that she might not be reminded of her hunger by watching other children eat, little Lucy Hearto usually exerted all the influence in her power to persuade her father or her cousin to keep in the fashionable parts of the city.

LUCY BREAKS DOWN.

Human nature is human nature. It can bear just so much, and then the machinery shuts down. There came a time, a few days ago, when Lucy's frail body refused to respond longer to the will back of it. From early in the morning until late at night the child had walked the streets dancing, thumping her tambourine, begging and religiously turning over to the relentless man at her side every penny that was given her. She listened while the organ wheezed out "The Banks of the Wabash" and "Hiawatha" and "My Alamo Love" and "Nearer, My God, to Thee" and "Mr. Dooley" until she hated every note of every one of the songs.

Sometimes they stopped in front of a saloon, and De Miva would leave her turning the crank of the organ while he went in and bought a drink. He would some swaggering out munching a sandwich which he had procured from the free lunch counter, and poor little hungry Lucy would bite her lips and swallow hard to keep from crying-for he would beat her if she cried-and every step of the way she grew weaker until finally she fell in a faint from utter exhaustion and hunger at the feet of Police Lieutenant Schlau on North Halsted street. During the entire day she had eaten nothing but a biscuit, which was thrown to her in the morning.

Policeman Schlau took the unconscious child to the Chicago Avenue station and left her in charge of the matron while he went to hunt De Miva. Half an hour later the Italian was behind the bars charged with violation of the child labor law and the next day was sent to the Bridewell in lieu of a $25 fine. De Miva, it was asserted, paid the parents of the little girl a commission for the right to force her to beg.

NOT HUNGRY NOW.

Next morning, as she sat rocking in a comfortable chair in the police station, Lucy sank back with a long, happy sigh, and said, "I am not hungry now. I had meat this morning." She summed up her year of life in Chicago thus:

"Sometime I go with my cousin, sometime with my father. When people give me things I eat."

The child has never been to school an hour in her life. At the word she looked at the questioner with big brown eyes of wonder, shook her brown head, and began a most intense scrutiny of a pair of very ragged boots. She was clad in an old faded dress of coarse material, which was her whole covering, and this was in an indescribable state of dirtiness.

"The child is completely worn out with the hardships of her small existence," said Chief Matron Mary Keegan. "What she wants is plenty of rest and a little spark of fun."

Lucy is now a ward of the Juvenile Court, and an attempt will be made to find a good home for her, where she will get the rest and "little spark of fun," and where she will have a chance to develop into the beautiful girl God originally meant her to be.

CHICAGO'S WHITE SLAVES.

It would probably be a difficult matter to persuade the average Chicagoan that frequently when he goes to a bootblack stand and sits in comfort while his boots are being polished, the boy who is doing the work is a slave. Most people believe that slavery ceased to exist with the emancipation of the negro. Not Chicago alone, but every large city in the country as well, swarms with little white slaves, not of the lamp, but of the shoe brush.

Frank Solick is one of the oldest bootblacks in Chicago. He is authority for the statement that slavery exists among the Greeks. He says:

"The bootblacks of Chicago once tried to organize a union but it could not be done owing to a system of slavery in which many of the Greek boys are held. There are in Chicago many shops owned by padrones. These owners bring half a dozen or more boys from Greece. They feed, clothe and house the youngsters, and, under contract with the parent in Greece, pay the workers about $50 per year. The padrone gets all the money, tips, and everything that the boys earn."

Miss Helen Gould's favorite philanthropic scheme, outside of the schools and clubs at Tarrytown, which are at her own home, and, naturally, receive a great deal of her personal attention, may be said to be the Home for the Friendless and its twelve industrial schools scattered throughout New York city.

The home cost in the neighborhood of $200,000, one-tenth of which was the gift of Miss Gould, who acts on the Executive Committee of the Board. This Home for the Friendless is just what its name implies. Any little girl under the age of fourteen and any little boy under the age of ten found destitute and in need of protection is taken into the home, clothed, fed and educated, and afterward may be adopted by a Christian family. It is interesting to note that upward of forty thousand such children have been sheltered by this home so far.

The home is situated in a most charming and healthful location in Woodycrest avenue. Its windows command a view of the Harlem River and a public park, which adjoins the home grounds. During the summer the noise of the little ones at play is frequently broken in upon by the tuneful blast of the coaching horn, for Jerome avenue, that thoroughfare leading from the busy city to the Hudson River road, is just across the way.

In the boys' room are ping-pong tables, music boxes, all kinds of games that are designed for the particular delight of lads. The walls are hung with pictures they like and the great bookcases lining the sides of the room are filled with books that tell interesting tales of travel and adventure.

Not satisfied with the attractivenes of her gifts, Miss Gould has arranged to have a man come to the home three times a week and introduce the boys to the fascinating stories by reading aloud to them. One afternoon is devoted to the smaller lads, and the other two to the older set.

IN THE KINDERGARTEN.

More evidences of this generous-hearted woman's thoughtfulness are to be found up in the kindergarten. Each airy room, with its quaint Greenaway wall paper, is like a fairyland to the poor child taken from a home of poverty and dirt. Its little eyes are dazzled with visions of doll houses as complete in appointment as any Fifth avenue mansion. There are dear little dollies for them to dress, besides music boxes, games and, best of all, a really truly set of doll furniture, including a quaint walnut bed, every piece of which once graced the playhouse of a little girl called Helen Gould.

In connection with this home there are twelve industrial schools established in various parts of the city, mostly in the thickly settled tenement districts. These schools are not connected directly with the regular public schools and are only partially supported by the city. Whereas the public school children are allowed on an average about $40 apiece a year, the industrial members receive about $7 for their education.

Crippled children, truants and the unschooled poor of the tenement districts, who for various reasons cannot attend the regular public school, are welcomed in these industrial branches. In addition to the general studies taught, which enable the pupils to enter public schools later, lessons in manual training are given. and these are paid for entirely by Miss Gould. This department alone costs from $2,000 to $3,000 a year, though the industrial work is in progress only a part of the term, for it is the aim of the teachers not to have anything interfere with the progress of the regular school work toward the end of the year.

The locations of these industrial schools are as follows: No. 1, at No. 308 East 109th street; No. 2, at No. 418 West Forty-first street; No. 3, at No. 39 Rutgers street; No. 4, at No. 4 Willett street; No. 5, at No. 368 East Eighth street; No. 6, at No. 259 East Fourth street; No. 7, at Nos. 225 and 227 East Eighteenth street; No. 8, at No. 414 West Fifty-fourth street; No. 9, at No. 421 East Sixteenth street; No. 10, at No. 125 Lewis street; No. II, at No. 243 East 103d street, and No. 12, at No. 2247 Second

avenue.

BUILDINGS ARE SMALL.

For the most part, the school buildings are small and poorly equipped for carrying on the work. Houses in the neighborhood have usually answered the purpose, but when from two to three hundred children are crowded into these buildings there is much left to be desired in the way of space and ventilation. It is the hope of the American Female Guardian Society and Home for the Friendless to secure money for the erection of schools designed for this special work, and at the anniversary of the founding of the home the other day Miss Gould presented a check for $5,000 to start a fund for the much needed school buildings.

The children gathered into these schools represent nearly every nationality. Number 12, for example, is made up almost entirely of Italian children, many of them belonging to the subway strikers. In the downtown schools are to be found a few Chinese and negroes, Hebrews, Russians, Poles, Swedes, Irish, Germans and Bohemians. Some of the boys who go to the schools sell papers and black boots out of school hours, and in this way manage to keep themselves clothed while they gain at least the rudiments of an education, and, what is evidently more appreciated by them, are enabled to learn an employment that is cleaner, keeps them off the streets and brings good profits. Many of these lads have Miss Gould to thank for the skill they have acquired in cobbling, caning or basket weaving.

The school at 100th street received more than twenty disrep utable specimens of humanity-rag pickers, most of them-and they were so dirty that it was scarcely possible to tell what their natural color had been. Through the manual training classes these boys were able to learn a more decent and profitable way of earning their living. These classes include cobbling, chair caning, knife work, basket weaving, cooking, sewing and housekeeping. The kindergarteners do clay modeling, ribbon weaving, braiding, building and engage in other interesting occupations for the very young. The Italians take readily to cobbling, and in many of the schools dozens of pairs of shoes are patched and mended during the winter term.

THE LYNDHURST CLUB.

Not long ago Miss Gould undertook a new charity by forming the Lyndhurst club, composed of poor boys of Irvington-on-theHudson. The boys are taught wood carving and scroll sawing by a New York professor hired for that express purpose by Miss Gould. The club occupies the old Robins' Nest, a fine house on the Eastman estate, not far from Lyndhurst, Miss Gould's palatial home. The club, which is composed of ninety boys, is in charge of Prof. Louis F. Downer, who teaches the larger boys on Mondays and Wednesdays, while the small boys receive their lessons on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

The classroom contains fine hard wood carpenter's benches, with all the latest scroll designs, wood carving devices and machinery, and the boys are delighted with the generosity of Miss Gould. In order that the lads may have a permanent home, Miss Gould is building them a $50,000 clubhouse on the road leading from Pennybridge to Woody Crest.

October 12 was "shoe day" at the Chicago Orphan Asylum. The shoe man came early to the big south side institution for homeless children, and stayed late and fitted every boy and girl in the place with a brand new pair of shiny black shoes. After the shoe question was settled the little folk received more than 200 of their friends in the society world and wound up the day with a feast and a funny story by Bishop Cheney.

It required exactly six hours to fit all the pairs of feet from Marie, who is "sweet sixteen," to Sammy, who is six months old. The shoe man strictly observed the rule of seniority, and Sammy was last. The youngster's delighted gurgle, as he waved aloft a pair of crocheted, beribboned things, indescribable in shape, announced that the last measure had been taken.

"Is they holes in the heels for skates?" asked one boy before he closed his deal with the shoe man.

Little Frank Peters almost sobbed when he was threatened with a species of footgear that buttoned up the side. "No, I don't want button shoes-girls has button shoes an' I ain't goin' to be no girl," he protested.

He got the coveted laced shoes.

DINNER FOLLOWS.

The youngsters' eyes had grown big and round at the sight of the array of footgear, but they fairly bulged from their sockets when they caught sight of the tables spread with the holiday dinner. When the little wards took their seats the invited grownups stood four ranks deep around the dining-room. For the little boys and girls who had to sit with folded hands while the children recited and sang songs, there ensued a painful interval. Not a few fingers tested the frosting on the cake and strayed into the red and white jelly on the plates before Bishop Cheney told his story. He said:

"I knew a little boy once about sixty-two or sixty-three years ago who wanted a pair of boots awfully bad. They wore boots in those days that came almost to the knees, and the little boy was promised a pair for Christmas. And Christmas morning he stole down to the fireplace and there they were, just as his pa had promised. Then the little boy hurried to pull them on, but alas! They were too small. And the little boy boohooed as if his heart would break. Now, who do you suppose the boy was?" "You," shrieked the children.

Then they ate, and after a time were put to bed.

"Please, nurse, can't I hold my shoes till I go to sleep?" one of the little ones pleaded.

"No, dear, I'm putting them under your bed-see? Now, good night," the nurse replied.

And then, as the door closed on the matron, a little, white robed figure crept out of the coverlets and peered over the edge of the bed. There peeped the shoes from beneath the cot, toes in and side by side, just as they peeped from beneath 249 other little cots in the asylum that night.

CHARITY OF MRS. MANCELL TALCOTT. Through the charity of Mrs. Mancell Talcott, who gave $5,000 in 1882 as the nucleus of a shoe fund, "shoe day" has become an established holiday at the Chicago Orphan Asylum. The endowment was dedicated to her husband's memory and October 12th, his birthday, was chosen as "shoe day." The interest on the original gift more than pays for the footgear needed annually.

At the reception in connection with the children's celebration, Mrs. B. B. Botsford, the president of the institution, was assisted by the board of forty women directors. William Fuller, who gave the building now occupied, was also present.

The home at 5120 South Park avenue was filled with visitors and friends to witness the entertainment the children had provided. The rooms had been decorated by the children of the home. On a table in the dining-room were dishes prepared by cooking-school classes. Exhibition of the work done by the children was seen throughout the school buildings. An interesting program was carried out. Songs, recitations, and stories were told by the children. Mrs. Jerome Beecher was in attendance. She has the honor of having cared for the first child in the asylum, in the first year of its incorporation, 1849.

NO RACE OR COLOR LINE.

There is no race or color distinction with the children. Almost every nationality is represented among them. The home was originally on Twenty-second street. After moving several times farther south it is now at the South Park avenue entrance of Washington park. It is supported by incomes from endowments and voluntary contributions, which amount annually to about $24,000.

It was a gala day, too, at the Chicago Home for the Friendless. Fifty-first street and Vincennes avenue, a few blocks away. More than 700 persons visited the big building to attend the annual reception and meeting of the board of directors.

A display was made of the cooking, sewing, and other work of the children.

Miss E. Babbitt, the superintendent, announced that the home now has a capacity for 500 children, and the number accommodated during the last year averaged more than 300.