ROMANCE AND PENNIES

Romance, when called out by the magic wand of a fairy, or told in the pages of a "Huckleberry Finn", is a totally different thing from the romance of camping out on a winter night with little to wear and less to eat. Boys play pirates for the fun of it, and steal their provisions from their mother's pantry; but when a boy camps under the steps of Russell Annex, and steals what he needs from the automobiles and college rooms near by, it is stretching the point to say that he is "playing pirate".

A short time ago a college man missed an overcoat from an auto which he had left in front of the dormitory. On the same day a rug was taken. Both these losses were reported to the watchman, but for a week the case remained a mystery. Finally someone getting out of bed at six in the morning happened to look out of the window, and saw a boy crawling from under the building. Upon investigation the missing rug and overcoat were found stored away beneath the steps. Further investigation disclosed the fact that the boy had a home in Cambridge, but that he and his parents did not get along too well together, and that the boy had decided that "home was never like this"--especially when overcoats and rugs could be had for the taking.

There has always been a great deal of petty thievery committed about the college dormitories, and there has never been anything done about it. The Cambridge "mucker" grows up with the cry of "Got a penny, Jack" on his lips. If he is of the better type he sells papers--if not, he takes what he wants when he can get it. Sometimes he goes to school--when he thinks that he will be caught if he doesn't--and sometimes he "plays hookey".

Evil is too strong a word for this condition, and the cure lies not so much in shutting up as in building up. If unattractive home-life can be made more attractive, the temptation for petty thefts will stop. The Phillips Brooks House has already done much to help,--giving Thanksgiving dinners to families which would have gone without,--and the Cambridge Welfare Society has done its share.

But permanent progress can only come from another quarter, from men who are willing to give up part of their time to help. Money is not needed so much as a spontaneous constructive interest to find out how "that damn mucker" lives.