Eastern times. [volume] (Bath, Me.) 1846-1857, 1854-04-06
afist&lIanp.
Anybody's Child.


Anybody's child is sad little being. You
find him playing at marbles in an alley. His
feet are bare, his clothes are ragged, his voice
is hard and cracked, his hair is matted down
over his eyes, his hands are thin and angular,
his knees protrude through his torn trousers,
and those rags are kept on by piece of cord
that passes over his left shoulder How keen
are the eyes that leer out at you from under
that hair-thatched brow! They read you off
in minute. Anybody's child can tell, at a
glance of those sharp eyes, whether you have
anything or nothing in your pocket whether
your heart is hard or soft ; whether you are
parish officer, or detective policeman. You
may deceive casual observers, but anybody's
child is not to be done. Admitted
He has not respect for you; if you freely
offer him money, you are fiat he has a ready
impertinence to throw at you, should you be
harsh to him; he hates you if you be either
parish officer or a detective
If you be philanthropist, he listens to you
only to laugh at you. Anybodys child is on
ly twelve years old, yet he has had great ex-
perience of the world. He is skilled in every
artifice, and ready to profit by any. Admitted.
1t is his cue to be penitent, to repent thor
oughly, to cry, and call himself an abandoned
wretch and miserable sinner, to declare that
there is no good in him, that death is the best
possible thing that could happen to him, to
exhibit knowledge of religious observances
-he will do all this, you know he will. Ad-
mitted
First, he cries, then he allows himself to be
soothed; then he describes the terrible hard
ships he has suffered then he strikes up
psalm, which he sings very fairly. This per-
formance is well adapted to touch the feelings,
and to influence the pockets of the good ladies
who go their rounds courageously, about the
worst by-ways Of London, doing what they
conceive to be their duty, quietly and firmly ;
distributing, with real charity of heart-but
often to unworthy objects-money which they
can i'll spare. Anybody's child knows these
good ladies very well. He hears what they
have to say, with downcast eyes; and he is
very serious when he takes the tracts they are
so kind as to distribute. But how can he
read while he is SO hungry The lady is
certain TO be touched by this appeal, and all
honor to her gentle heart Anybody's child
receives sixpence. Then the lady proceeds
to the next court, and Anybody's child buys
some pudding at house close at hand-which
he wraps up in the tract-and saves twopence
for the low theatre at night. You know all
this is true of Anybody's child. Admitted
Anybody child plays other parts. Many
come to inquire into his condition-to ask
about his parentage, his mode of life, the num-
Der Of times he has been in prison, the games
he has played. To these he appears very
hardened indeed. He has no recollection of
his mother, and his father is somewhere in the
country. He is allowed to sleep upon pallet
in the corner of a kind old woman's kitchen
up court. He lives by all sorts Of strate-
gems. He hold gentlemens horses he goes
out with costermongers to cry their wares
He has been offered the situation of errand
boy, to carry out goods, but he never liked it
such places were always too hard for him.
He has been in prison many times, five or six,
at least. He proceeds to repeat the prison
regulations, for he knows them by heart
He has been engaged with-other boys in TAX
ing lead from house roofs in snow gather
ings' "a poetic expression for clothes stealing
from hedges; in picking pocket affairs. He
can turn his hand to anything destructive, but
finds the world is against him. He knows
very we'll that he is an outcast, and that boys
of his sort are not to be admitted into any sort
of companionship. Yet his is hard life--his
is. He has tried very often to do something
for himself--he has but it amt of no USE
he can't keep to nothing; he gets tired of it,
and people gets tired Of him. He supposes he