Chapter 8

So deep was the impression that this case made upon Judge Lindsey that he could not keep from thinking about it. As he thought, he made up his mind that boys and girls should not be tried in the same court with grown people. He also concluded that in trying a boy the important thing was not _what_ he had done, but _why_ he had done it. To discover and remove the cause of the crime was of much greater importance than punishing him after the crime had been committed.

Furthermore, he thought it very wrong to put a boy in a prison with hardened criminals. He looked upon the prison not as a place where men are made better but as a school of vice. To send a boy to prison, then, must be the last resort.

While it was not hard for Judge Lindsey to see all these things, it was difficult indeed for him to make the people of Denver see them. Gradually, however, he carried on his campaign of enlightenment until today Denver is pointed out as one of a few cities that knows how successfully to handle its boys. With its excellent juvenile court and its sane probation laws it has blazed the path for other cities to follow.

And to whom are these changes due? We answer, to the man who by dint of hard work struggled all the way from newsboy on the streets to judge on the bench--Ben B. Lindsey.

FRANCES WILLARD

Two sisters and a brother lived with their parents in the country near what is now the town of Beloit, Wisconsin. They had many pleasures in their free, healthy life, and they were all fond of writing down in diaries accounts of their plays, their hopes, and their plans. One day the older of the two girls wrote:

"I once thought I should like to be Queen Victoria's maid of honor; then I wanted to go and live in Cuba; next I made up my mind that I would be an artist; next that I would be a mighty hunter of the prairies--but now I suppose I am to be a music teacher, simply that and nothing more."

She never became any of these things, but she did grow into such a wise and noble woman that the entire world recognized the good she did and was glad to honor her. The little girl's name was Frances Willard, and the great office that was hers in later life was the presidency of the Woman's Christian Temperance Union.

Frances' father and mother moved to Wisconsin from the State of New York when their children were very small. Then the new home seemed to be in the wilderness, and the family were indeed pioneers. Frances had a genius for planning the most exciting games. She was always the leader of the three, and delighted in organizing her willing playmates into Indian bands, or into daring sailors of unknown seas. The other two children called her Frank, and were glad to have her "think up" wonderful plays.

One day long before Frances was twelve years of age her sister wrote in her journal, "Frank said we might as well have a ship if we did live on shore; so we took a hen coop pointed at the top, put a big plank across it, and stood up, one at each end, with an old rake handle apiece to steer with. Up and down we went, slow when it was a calm sea and fast when there was a storm, until the old hen clucked and the chickens all ran in and we had a lively time. Frank was captain and I was mate. We made out charts of the sea, rules about how to navigate when it was good weather and how when it was bad. We put up a sail made of an old sheet and had great fun, until I fell off and hurt me."

So you see they must have had many daring adventures. Frances longed for a horse to ride, but there was none the children could have. This did not discourage her in the least. She wanted to ride and so she decided to train their pet calf. The calf's name was Dime, and Frances said, "Dime is an unusually smart calf, she can be trained so we can ride her." So she proceeded to do it and the children rode Dime to their hearts' content.

But all of their play was not out of doors. Mr. and Mrs. Willard had brought with them from their old home many books, and the children liked to spend hours reading in their library. The father and mother taught them and encouraged them to study. Frances liked to write, and, as she was a neat and orderly girl, she did not want her books and papers disturbed. In her sister Mary's journal we read how she managed to have her belongings untouched:

"Today Frank gave me half her dog Frisk that she bought lately, and for her pay I made a promise which mother witnessed and here it is:

"I, Mary Willard, promise never to touch anything lying or being upon Frank Willard's writing desk which father gave her. I promise never to ask either by speaking, writing, or signing, or in any other way, any person or body to take off or put on anything on said stand and desk without special permission from said Frank Willard. I promise never to touch anything which may be in something upon her stand and desk. I promise never to put anything on it or in anything on it; I promise if I am writing or doing anything else at her desk to go away the moment she tells me to. If I break the promise I will let the said F. W. come into my room and go to my trunk or go into any place where I keep my things and take anything of mine she likes. All this I promise unless entirely different arrangements are made. These things I promise upon my most sacred honor."

As Frances grew older she longed to travel. She had a great desire to take a large part in the work of the world; but this did not seem possible for two reasons. First, she had no money, and in the second place, she lived in such an out of the way settlement that a journey to the great cities of the world seemed to be nothing but a pleasant dream that would never come true.

Once in one of these moments of longing, she wrote,

"Am I almost of age, Am I almost of age, Said a poor little girl, And she glanced from her cage. How long will it be Before I shall be free, And not fear friend or foe? And I some folks could know I'd not want to be of age, But remain in my cage."

This was her first poem, and she grew very fond of writing and then reading aloud her own efforts. The children printed a paper, and Frances was the editor. While writing articles to appear in it she would often retire to a seat high up in a favorite tree. On the tree she hung a sign,

"The Eagle's Nest Beware."

You may be sure the other children left her undisturbed until her important writing was finished.

But it was not long before Frances went out into the world of which she dreamed and wrote, for she was not eighteen years old when she began teaching. This experience gave her great pleasure. She liked her pupils and was earnest and enthusiastic. There were two questions that she kept always before her pupils: "What are you going to be in the world, and what are you going to do?" Every one who ever had Frances Willard for his teacher heard these two questions many times, and numerous young people were influenced by her to lead earnest, helpful lives.

During one of her summer vacations, she made the acquaintance of a warm-hearted, generous girl who became one of her closest friends. This young girl, of about the same age as Frances Willard, had no mother. Her father, who was exceedingly wealthy, was deeply immersed in his business, so his daughter was glad to have her new friend with her often.

One day she thought, "How splendid it would be for us to go abroad." To think was to act with her, and almost before Frances knew it they had started for Europe. They remained there three years and during that time visited many remote places seldom seen by the average person traveling in foreign lands. Frances Willard wrote many accounts of their experiences which were published in American magazines.

Upon her return to the United States she lectured about her journey and became such an excellent public speaker that every one wanted to hear her on any subject she chose, so she continued to lecture after she ceased giving her travel talks. It is estimated that she spoke on an average of once a day for ten years.

Meanwhile, she was made president of a college for young ladies in the town of Evanston, Illinois. Later she became a member of the faculty of Northwestern University in the same community. Here she brought wonderful help to her students, and they said of her that she was so interesting "she turned common things to gold."

But her life was not to be given entirely to teaching, and after a few years she was drawn into the temperance work. This was then in its beginning. Liquor was sold freely in every state, and there were no laws regulating its sale or distribution.

Miss Willard saw the sorrow and suffering caused by intemperance and she determined to war against this great evil. Her first work was done with what was called the Woman's Crusade. Bands of women met and prayed in front of saloons. Often they asked to hold brief services in the saloons and then they urged men to give up drinking. Going to these places and praying in public was distasteful to her, but Miss Willard felt she must do so.

Soon, because of her zeal, the Chicago branch of the Woman's Christian Temperance Union gave her an office. From that time she rose rapidly from office to office in the great organization until she was made World President of the International W. C. T. U. in 1879. She brought the necessity for temperance before the people of the United States as they had never seen it before, and always she said to them with tongue and pen, "Temperance is necessary for God and Home and Native Land."

She went over the entire country speaking to thousands of persons and turning their thoughts toward the great cause. Little by little she gained ground, made progress, and could say of the spread of interest: "It was like the fire we used to kindle on the western prairie, a match and a wisp of dry grass was all that was needed, and behold the magnificent spectacle of a prairie on fire, sweeping across the landscape swift as a thousand untrained steeds and no more to be captured than a hurricane."

Today the results of Frances Willard's work are seen in the great and growing interest in prohibition. What was to her a dream is coming to pass; what she hoped for will, in all probability, soon be a reality, and her great achievement lies in having made the question, "Shall we permit our homes and our country to be ruined by intemperance?" one of national importance, a question that every citizen of the United States must answer.

In Statuary Hall of our Nation's Capitol, where stand the statues of those persons whose deeds have earned them the right to fame and honor, there is only one statue of a woman. That woman is Frances E. Willard.

JANE ADDAMS

Not so many years ago a little girl, living in a small Illinois town, had a strange dream. She was quite a little girl; just old enough to be in the second grade at school, nevertheless she always remembered that dream. She says, "I dreamed that every one in the world was dead excepting myself, and that upon me rested the responsibility of making a wagon wheel. The village street remained as usual, the village blacksmith shop was 'all there,' even a glowing fire upon the forge, and the anvil in its customary place near the door, but no human being was within sight. They had all gone around the edge of the hill to the village cemetery, and I alone remained in the deserted world. I stood in the blacksmith shop pondering on how to begin, and never once knew how, although I fully realized that the affairs of the world could not be resumed until at least one wheel should be made and something started."

The little girl dreamed this dream more than once, but she never made the wagon wheel. However, when she was a grown woman she founded and built up something that has become a great force for good in the largest city of her native state.

Perhaps you are wondering what she did. She went to live in one of the poorest and most wretched parts of Chicago. There she furnished her house exactly as she would if it had been in some beautiful street. She called her home a Settlement, and invited her neighbors to come in daily for comfort and cheer.

In her description of the street in which she lived she says,

"Halsted Street is thirty-two miles long, and one of the great thoroughfares of Chicago. Polk street crosses it midway between the stock yards to the south and the ship building yards to the north. For the six miles between these two industries the street is lined with shops of butchers and grocers, with dingy and gorgeous saloons, and places for the sale of ready-made clothing. Once this was the suburbs, but the city has grown steadily and this site has corners on three or four foreign colonies."

It was in the year 1899 that Jane Addams, for that is the name of the little girl who dreamed she was to make a wagon wheel and help start something in the world, began living in Halsted Street, and named her home Hull House after the first owner.

In those early days people asked her over and over why she had come to live in Halsted Street when she could afford to live among richer people.

One old man used to shake his head and say it was the strangest thing he had ever known. However, there came a time when he thought it was most natural for the settlement to be there to feed the hungry, care for the sick, give pleasure to the young and comfort to the aged.

From the very first Miss Addams and her helpers made their neighbors understand that they were ready to do even the humblest services. They took care of children and nursed the sick. They even washed the dishes and cleaned the house for some of the poor foreign women who had to work all night scrubbing big office buildings.

Besides helping in true neighborly fashion, they brought many joys to the people about them. Some of these were quite by chance, as once when an old Italian woman cried with pleasure over a bunch of red roses that she saw at a reception Miss Addams gave. She was surprised, she said, that they had been "brought so fresh all the way from Italy." No one could make her believe they had been grown in Chicago. She had lived there six years and never seen any, but in Italy they bloomed everywhere all summer.

Now the sad thing about this story was that during all the six years of her stay in Chicago she had lived within ten blocks of a flower store, and one car fare would have been enough to take her to one of Chicago's beautiful public parks. No one had ever told her about them, and so all she knew of the city was the dirty street in which she lived.

Miss Addams learned that most of the foreigners were as helpless as this woman in finding anything to bring them pleasure. So Hull House became a place where hundreds of persons went. Some joined classes and studied, but at first it was for social purposes that the Settlement was used the most.

The people lived in tiny, crowded rooms and the only place they had to gather in celebration of weddings and birthdays, and meet each other was the saloon halls. These halls could be rented for a very small sum with the understanding that the company would spend much money at the saloon bar. Because of this custom many a party that started out quiet and orderly ended with great disorder. So you can see that every one would be glad to have Hull House where they could go and enjoy themselves comfortably with their friends.

A day at Hull House is most interesting. In the morning come many little children to the Kindergarten. They are followed by older children who come to afternoon classes, while in the evening every room is filled with grown persons who meet in some form of study, club or social life.

But if you should go there now you would find instead of one building, with which Miss Addams began, thirteen buildings and forty persons living there to help to teach anyone who may come to Hull House.

There are classes in foreign languages, and one may study in the night classes almost any subject that is taught in a high school. Besides these classes there are concerts and plays. Hull House has a theater of its own, and the boys and girls of the neighborhood act out their favorite dramas there. One story that has been told frequently shows the kind of plays the boys and girls make. Almost every one thinks this play was given in the Hull House Theater but Miss Addams writes:

I have told the story you have reference to several times. It is about a settlement boys' club, not at Hull House, who were asked to write a play on the origin of the American flag. They were told the climax must come in the third act, etc., but were given no outline.

The play was as follows: The first act was at "the darkest hour of the American Revolution." A sentry walking up and down in front of the camp, says to a soldier: "Aint it fierce? We aint got no flag for this here Revolution." And the soldier replies: "Yes, aint it fierce?" That is the end of the first act. Second act: The same soldier appears before George Washington and says: "Aint it fierce? We aint got no flag for this here Revolution." And George Washington replies: "Yes, aint it fierce?" and that is the end of the second act. Third Act: George Washington went to call on Betsy Ross, who lived on Arch Street in Philadelphia, and said: "Mistress Ross, aint it fierce? We aint got no flag for this here Revolution," and Betsy Ross replied: "Yes, aint it fierce? Hold the baby and I will make one."

I sometimes tell this with a little more elaboration but I have given you what the boys actually wrote. Of course, it has always been detailed in the line of a funny story and cannot be taken too seriously.

Very sincerely yours, JANE ADDAMS

Is it not wonderful what Miss Addams has done for the people who had no comfort or care? Perhaps she has but kept a promise she made to her father when she was only seven years of age.

They were driving through the poor, mean streets of her native town of Cedarville, Illinois. She had never seen this particular part of the town before, and asked her father many times why persons lived in such dreadful places. He tried to tell her what it meant to be very poor. She listened eagerly and then exclaimed, "When I grow up, I am going to live in a great, big house right among horrid little houses like these."

In her "big house" on Halsted Street many lives have been brightened and thousands have found the help that started them upon useful careers.

Jane Addams is one of the noblest women our country has had, and she has been honored by Chicago and the entire United States for her life of service.

A member of the English Parliament called her "the only saint America has produced," while an enthusiastic Chicago man, when asked to name the greatest living man in America, answered, "Jane Addams."

When in Chicago, try to go out to Hull House and visit for an afternoon or evening. There are so many kinds of activities going on all the time you can see what you like best, whether it be gymnastics, acting, music, pottery, carpentery, or any of the literary or industrial pursuits.

Later on you will want to read the book Miss Addams has written of her experience called, "Twenty Years of Hull House."

* * * * *

"_The union of hearts, the union of hands, and the flag of our Union forever._"

--G. P. MORRIS.

JOHN MITCHELL

Have you ever thought how common it is for the persons who work for others to think that they do not have enough pay for what they do? The boy who mows the lawn wants more than the landlady is willing to pay. Thus it was in 1902 when thousands of coal miners in Pennsylvania became dissatisfied with their wages and started a great movement to force their employers to pay them more.

On one side were the rich men who owned the mines. They, eager to make as much money for themselves as possible, were not willing to pay the miners fair wages. Furthermore, they would not spend money to make the mines safe for the men who worked in them. Accordingly, the living conditions among the miners were wretched indeed. Poorly paid, they were forced to dwell in houses that were little more than huts, and were required to live on the coarsest fare. So dangerous were the mines that accidents were of almost daily occurrence; yet nothing could be done as the miners were without a leader. True, labor agitators came and with silver speech aroused the miners, but they did not tell them what to do.

For a long time the battle cloud grew darker until finally the whole nation became alarmed. So grave was the situation that Theodore Roosevelt, then president, was asked to help avert the crisis that seemed inevitable. At once the president left Washington for the scene of conflict. Day after day he sought among the sullen, half-crazed men for some solution of the difficulty, until finally he discovered a man big enough to bring order out of confusion.

Mr. Hugh C. Weir, in speaking of this discovery, says: "From the inferno of the coal-strike dates the cementing of those ties of friendship and comradeship which have bound John Mitchell and Theodore Roosevelt. The president, plunging into the heart of the strike, sought and found the man whose hand held the pulse of events. He found him, haggard and white with the strain of a great exhaustion, upheld by the inspiration of a great purpose, and forthwith John Mitchell, coal-miner, son of a coal-miner, came into a place in the Roosevelt esteem which few men have equaled and no man surpassed. When at the White House conference of American governors, the president invited as guests of honor those five Americans who, in his judgment, ranked foremost in current progress, John Mitchell, the labor man, was high in the quintette." To have a plain coal-miner thus honored by the President of the United States is so exceptional that we cannot help wondering what there was about Mr. Mitchell that earned for him such distinction. To discover the source of his greatness it is necessary to study his life.

John Mitchell was born in the cottage of a humble coal-miner at Braidwood, Illinois, in 1870. In those days Braidwood was a dreary, dirty mining town almost surrounded by broad stretches of swamp.

When John was but three years of age his mother died. His stepmother, who no doubt meant well, was not affectionate; on the contrary she was very severe. As they were very poor she had to take in washings, and day after day it fell to John's lot to help his stepmother with the washings.