“Do you smoke cigarettes?” The president will never forget the manly, prompt reply. He was given a good position, and that boy today is traveling for a firm in Cleveland, Ohio, at a big salary. The increased interest in the detail work taken by the boys themselves encouraged the president to believe that he was still on the right road to build these little street-boys up for good, not only for themselves but for doing good for others. Another case of interest in an unusual way of “doin’ a good turn.” A bright-eyed, red-faced boy, ten years old, came running into the president’s office, one evening, almost out of breath, and after clearing the way through a long room, he stood before the officer, eyes sparkling with interest. He had something important to say. His elbows were bare, his pants torn, his cap merely a piece of cloth, with a rim strong enough to hold it in place. His name was Bluster, receiving it from the boys on account of his blustering manner of doing things. “Say, pres.,” yelled Bluster. “I want authority to lick a kid.” That was a strange request. While the president was thinking what to say he added. “I must have permission fur de gang’s after me. Dey’re on me track.” Not desiring the gang to enter the office and create a scene, consent was given for Bluster to use force, if necessary to defend himself. A smile of satisfaction came over Bluster’s face. A smile that indicated that he had taken advantage of the president, and was now about to glory in it. After a moments thought he said. “Say, pres., I already licked him.” “Who and what for?” was asked with considerable surprise. “Fur swearin.” Before he could explain the details of the case, in rushed eight or ten boys, all talking at once. Bluster never smiled when the boys declared he wasn’t an officer and had no business to “take the law into his own hands.” “That’s all right,” put in Bluster, “ain’t we supposed to work fur each others good? Well, an’ wasn’t I ’tendin’ to my own business on de corner. I wus standin’ there crying all about de big fire, when a man frum de other side of the street calls fur me to come over. I starts an’ so does Swipsey, I beats Swipsey, an’ sells de man a paper, an’ what does Swipsey do? Does he go about his business? No, he told the man to go to hell and used other swear words an’ I saw our association wus receiving a black eye. It’s no use to preach to Swipsey, de only way to bring him to his thinking is to lick him. He knows as well as youses that its agin de rules to swear. So I punched him. I turned him an’ rolled him over until he cried enuf, an’ promised he would not swear again. Then de gang came after me an’ I runned to you.” The boys still declared he had no right to punish Swipsey without permission from the president. Quick as flash Bluster said: “Say, pres., didn’t I have permission?”