But where were the riches and where was the teacher that could make the boy’s heart as it was before his disobedience? None could be found. Let me tell you what happened. The father came not to upbraid, but to entreat; not to chastise, but to weep; The child’s hand was burned, the father’s heart was broken. The boy cried for shame, the father cried for sorrow. The father put his arms about the boy and with his head upon his breast together they sobbed out their sorrow. One part of it was the boy’s confession, and the other part of it was the father’s pain. Together they made a new resolution and hand to hand, and heart to heart, and love to love, they began together to repair the ruin that had been wrought. During the early stages of a boy’s membership he is constantly reminded that some day he will leave the street, he will seek employment elsewhere, and his start in a business life depends upon his street work. To illustrate this teaching, a boy found a small child’s savings bank. It was filled with money, small coin; and it was heavy. It was picked up on the street over a mile from the president’s office. As soon as found, the boy started on a run, as they always do, for the office. It was delivered with the usual instruction “to please find the owner.” To try the newsie the president called him aside and said, in a confidential whisper: “Why didn’t you sneak around the corner, into an alley, any place where no one could see you, and take a stone break the old bank all to pieces, take the money, and, my, what a good time you could have had.” The boy quickly replied: “No, sir, Mr. President, suppose I wanted a job, and stood in line to be questioned by the man, and he would ask, have you always been honest? What would I say? Why! my face would show I did something wrong—I took a little bank from some poor boy, and he would say, I don’t want a boy I would have to be afraid of; no that don’t belong to me.” This plainly shows what can be successfully impressed upon the minds of these hustling, seemingly thoughtless, street-boys. And when the owner of that bank proved to be a little girl—and how happy she was when it was found and returned to her, the boy said: “I would rather have the girl’s smiles than all the money the bank contained.” _PART SIXTH_ CHAPTER XXIII. From the very beginning of the Boyville association there has scarcely been a day without something of importance transpiring among the boys. It has been gradually building up, incidents and noble acts showing the willingness of these boys not only to do right themselves but to assist others.