Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1899-08-20

ANoW that 1AOQSLAASo thA ONsNNN- -
United States have gotten under way
again, and there are dollars where but
few years ago there were only dimes,
< is natural that charitable institu-
tons should feel the effects. Money is
going to them almost of Its own free
will, where formerly it could not be
obtained by begging. 1t IS lifting, then,
to call attention to one charity which
sprang years ago from the act or
man who at that time was struggling
hard to make both ends meet, and who
had no possessions, and scant educa-
ton; nothing, in fact, but heart full
of love for little children. This is the
story:
He was wee youngster, as wee as
ever wore trousers, and he was huddled
into bunch exactly as small as HIM
self, in the corner of a doorway OF st.
Mary's church, in James street, New
York, of New Years Eve, some fifty
years ago. He was not thinking OF
New Year, however, or of much of any
thing, except how to keep out OF the
wind and out of the janitor's sight,
when that church officer should appear,
as the youngster knew he would, after
seeing that the fire in the furnace was
safe for the night and the doors and
windows fast.
In a half frozen dream this wee
bunch had thought how fine it would
be were he inside, where the air was
still and warm and the snow could not
whirry against his skin through several
superfiuous holes in his coat. But he
had a wide-awake thought to that eff
feet, for he was not imaginative. Sew
en- and half years on air and cobble-
stones and kicks had made him matter
of-fact, not poetic and speculative.
There was not light enough for
horse to see by when the janitor came
out, but he saw the bunch of boy i'm
mediately; had seen him through the
door perhaps, for he had an X-ray eye
for urchins.
"Whist there, We little rascal" he
said, as he bent over the bunch. You'll
be lost in bank O. snow if ye sit there
the night Run home and tell your
mother you're sorry you stayed out so
lote."
sAin't ont No home "
mo home? Where's your mother
and father?"
Mothers on der Standard der ole
mans up der river
Brothers and sisters?"
Dunno. Hain't seen any,"
"Shure, we must live some place."
"Nope, | don't live nowhere. jes'
sleeps roun' and sells papes."
The waif was so cold he did not know
he was hungry, and he was so hungry he
did not know he was cold. He was
stiff, too, as he showed when he tried
to get up; so the janitor put an arm
round him and took him to the furnace
room to thaw him out and give him a
bit of lunch he had put aside against
the morrow, and also to find out more
about him.
When John Drumgoole stopped to
pick up that half-frozen bunch of tat
tiers he began the work that was to
make him famous the world over, a
work which, as he managed it and de-
veloped it, became one of the truest and
most efficient charities in existence
The Mission of the Immaculate Virgin
for the Protection of Homeless and
Destitute Children.
The janitor soon had the full conf
dence of the urchin he had found. He
told the lad he might sleep near the
furnace that night if he would promise
not to tell any one. I'll come early
and let you out and bring you bite
to eat, maybe" he said. The janitor
found the youngster in the morning
sound asleep. He did not like to wake
him, but he was afraid some of the
priests would find out what he had
done, so he reused him as gently as he
could and, after giving him bowl of
warm milk and bread, let him out quiet
~ through the iron gate. He told the
lad he might come again the next bad
night. Within the week there was an
other storm in the evening and, sure
enough, the youngster appeared. He
had something on his mind, evidently,
that he wanted to tell the janitor about,
but was shy. John Drumgoole noticed
this quickly enough and soon had it
out of his protege that there was an
other waif round the corner in door
way.
Il hain't tole i'm nuth'n bout in
yere," he explained, "but l promister
be back ter i'm n ten minits Els me
pal, Boss, an 1 wisht yer could let i'm
in yere wild me. E won't tell nobody,
homes e won't Boss"
So the janitor went "roun' der cor
ner" and found the pal" and soon two
youngsters were sleeping hard in the
warm church basement, dreaming they
hal sold ali their ''papes' and had made
as much as fifteen cents. a few nights