The Washington times., 1938-09-02


" an institution surrounded
by a high wire fence. A group
of solid brick buildings and
near them a baseball diamond,
a football field, tennis courts
and so on. It is called the
State Home for Boys.
And this story is about . LAD
that never knew any other home
except the reform school. His
name is Harry Hilton. He was
left an orphan as baby and he
grew up to the age OF II or SO
in an orphanage.
He was so full of impish mis-
chief by that time that the autnor-
tiles gave him up as an moor
rigible, decided nothing ever could
be done toward making him q use
full citizen, and handed him over
body and soul, to the home.
It happened that there was a
man named McClintock who was
the principal at the home when
Harry. was brought in, surly,
snarling. unmanageable kid burst
ing with animal energy and COM
pletely unsubdued.
Mr.. McClintock made a special
study of Harry. He held to GER
tain theories. He believed that
no human heart is irretrievably
lost If he can be brought under
the proper influences during his
formative years. In other words,
give a kid half a chance and he'll
get along all right.
Harry got his chance. He was
no great shakes as student but
he was hell on wheels in the yard.
He had streak Of rugged honesty
that had got him only trouble at
the orphan asylum, and it wasn't
long before he learned that under
Mr.. McClintock he need never fear
the consequences of the truth.
BY the time he was IA he was a
leader among the unruly crew that
made up the population Of the
home. When he was l6, Mr.. Nc
Clintock thought it was time for
him to begin thinking about his
future.
What do you want to make of
yourself, my boy?" Mr.. McClintock
asked him one day. Harry played
halfback on the home football
team and had just enjoyed bril-
liant day on the gridiron. You've
GOT verv unusual athletic ability,
you know. SON."
SOIL AMBITIONS
'T'm gonna be a farmer"
"A good idea. I daresay there's
any number Of schools where you
could have a scholarship, prac-
ticaIly a free education, if told
them you were the greatest young
athlete I've ever seen. You batted
400 last spring. you can become
q, great middle distance runner,
you're a marvellous swimmer"
Thanks, Mr.. McClintock, but
I'm not interested. I want to be
o farmer and it seems to me ]
can learn more working in the
ground than by reading books"
The principal nodded gravely
In agreement. "I'll see," he said
"that you get your chance-i1
that's what you want"
Harry was an honor student. In
some Homes they call 'em TRUSTEES
but that isn't Mr.. McClintock's s
way; it sounds too much like a
Jail. That same week the princi
Pal called him in and said:
Look, Harry, over on the other
side of the valley few miles
from here I know man who can
do more to make things grow
than any one I ever saw. He
seems to have secrets that other
farmers haven't learned, although
I'm sure his best secret is hard
and unflagging work. He leases
about a hundred acres because he
isn't allowed to own land. But
he can teach you all you want to
know"
That's how Harry got &C.
Quainted with old man Nakamura
OLD MAN "NAAA
He was a Japanese who immi'
grated to California back in the
nineties.. He was old and twisted
and grizZled. He had a Straggly
gray beard and two little Sits o1
eyes that were always laughing
He had q great number Of de
scendants. He couldn't speak
word of English. But his grand
children could, and among them
was a youngster about Harry's age
named George. Every one called
him "Naka" for short.
Harry went to the Nakamurs
truck farm six days a week. He
went with the others into the
fields at sunup and he stayed al
day, bending over rows of vege
tables, tending baby plants with
a love and Solicitude that many
q human infant might envy.
Harry did not work Sundays but
the Japanese did, currin 6
thereby the wrath Of some of their
Caucasian neighborS who com
planned that the dirty Orientals'
were taking the bread out of good
American mouths by this ridicu
1ous show of industry.
Harry never knew there was
such a thing as racial question
he doesn't know it yet. He did
know. though, that George Naka
mura was his idea of a swell fel
low; that he was as game as they