e no money, sir, but here is something to eat."

"God bless you, boy," the old man sighed, as he almost snatched the
little package.

The boy had no lunch that day.

Frank Mulvy was fourteen years old. He was a freshman at Regal, a member
of the football team and the secretary of the "Boy's Club" attached to
St. Leonard's Church. The office was elective and Frank had been chosen
with hardly a dissenting vote.

The Club met three times a week in a large room of the parish house
where the boys, about ninety in number, had a good library, billiard
tables, games of various kinds and other attractions. Once a week the
priest in charge, Father Boone, gave them a little talk on something of
interest and profit to boys. Usually these talks were very welcome to
the lads as Father Boone did not so much talk virtue as illustrate it,
and that not merely by stories, but rather by his own way of saying and
doing things. The boys liked him.

Frank was Father Boone's right hand man, and the director was glad that
the boys had elected him secretary, although he had given no indication
of his preference. He allowed the boys the greatest latitude and found
generally that they did the right thing. While Father Boone would be the
last to give it as the cause, the fact was that they did the right thing
because he himself did. He always endeavored to create an atmosphere of
trust and manliness. The morale of the Club was proof that he had
succeeded, for altogether the boys were a fine set, and the director
considered that Frank was the best of the lot.

Father Boone was very liberal, but if he once drew a line he never
allowed it to be crossed. The boys knew that. They used to say, "Father
Boone is all right but if he tells you what to do, you'd better do it."

One day, just five weeks before Christmas, Father Boone called Frank
aside and said to him:

"I have a bit of good news for you. A friend who is interested in the
work of the Club has given me one hundred dollars to spend as I like on
you boys. You are all very fond of music, and I am thinking of buying
some fine records for our victrola. What do you say?"

Frank replied, "I guess it's all right, Father. You know best what the
boys want."

The priest added, "I have another plan also, but I am not certain which
to adopt. I was thinking of taking the boys down to hear John McCormack.
We could get ninety seats together--it's far ahead--and treat the crowd
to a ride both ways.