k you for this--this, too, was a
gift, brother.' I felt that I, too, had received a gift from my
brother. This is a line of service open to us all."

A gentleman writing to the Chicago _Interior_, relates this incident
in his own career as a prosecuting attorney: a boy of fifteen was
brought in for trial. He had no attorney, no witnesses and no
friends. As the prosecuting attorney looked him over, he was pleased
with his appearance. He had nothing of the hardened criminal about
him. In fact, he was impressed that the prisoner was an unusually
bright-looking little fellow. He found that the charge against him
was burglary. There had been a fire in a dry goods store, where some
of the merchandise had not been entirely consumed. The place had been
boarded up to protect, for the time being, the damaged articles.
Several boys, among them this defendant, had pulled off a board or
two, and were helping themselves to the contents of the place, when
the police arrived. The others got away, and this was the only one
caught. The attorney asked the boy if he wanted a jury trial. He said
"No;" that he was guilty, and preferred to plead guilty.

Upon the plea being entered, the prosecutor asked him where his home
was. He replied that he had no home.

"Where are your parents?" was asked. He answered that they were both
dead.

"Have you no relatives?" was the next question.

"Only a sister, who works out," was the answer.

"How long have you been in jail?"

"Two months."

"Has anyone been to see you during that time?"

"No, sir."

The last answer was very like a sob. The utterly forlorn and
friendless condition of the boy, coupled with his frankness and
pleasing presence, caused a lump to come into the lawyer's throat,
and into the throats of many others, who were listening to the
dialogue. Finally the attorney suggested to the judge that it was a
pity to send the boy to the reformatory, and that what he needed more
than anything else was a home.

By this time the court officials, jurors and spectators had crowded
around, the better to hear what was being said. At this juncture one
of the jurors addressed the court, and said: "Your honor, a year ago
I lost my only boy. If he were alive, he would be about this boy's
age. Ever since he died I have been wanting a boy. If you will let me
have this little fellow, I'll give him a home, put him to work in my
printing establishment, and treat him as if he were my own son."

Th