Jasper Republican, Volume 1, Number 52, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 10 September 1875 — Reformation of Thieves. [ARTICLE]

Reformation of Thieves.

Nym Crinkle writes, in the New York World, as follows: It is the* easiest thing in the world to hunt a man down when he is trying to be honest, with his own record against him. There is a case on record of a young man in a prominent dry-goods bouse in this city who, in a moment of temptation, forged a check on his employers. It was a peculiarly painful affair. The lad was well connected, and when the detectives made the discovery it almost broke his parent’s heart. However, after some trouble the matter was compromised. The father paid the money, and some mitigation of sentence was effected. With the stain upon him he started out to redeem his character if he could. After wandering about for some time he obtained a situation in New Orleans as entry clerk, and at the end of a year saw a fair prospect of achieving success. His employers had confidence in him, and he had made numerous reputable acqualntOne day while. on the sidewalk superintending the sliipment of some goods one of these New York men came along. “Halloo! you here?” “ Yes,” said this young man with his heart in his mouth. “ What are you doing ?” “ Trying to earn an honest living!” It seems incredible, but it is true. The officer went straight into the store. One week later the young man was in New York. “ God knows,” he said, “ I tried as hard as-anybody could to be honest, but it’s no use!” ; ;; Of course a detective who had the slightest notion of his obligation as a man to society, to say nothing of his duty as an officer, would not have made this mistake. 7 And that reminds me of another case which ought to teach even police officers that discretion and kindness are not without fruits even in this business. Everybody in the force remembers Johnny Maas. He was a pickpocket and belonged to a mob that worked on the West Side. How he got into the company of these people it would be hard to tell. But he was an adroit and rather amiatfle thief who scarcely ever caused the force any trouble. It was customary in the days of. th& Metropolitan police to lock up all the pickpockets and “ guns” when there was to be a great celebration or procession. They were merely ordered to the central office, and there kept till the city was restored to its usual quiet. Johnny Maas only needed to be told to go to headquarters to report himself there promptly. He was a young man, rather slight in build, and somewhat taciturn. To the surprise of the Superintendent he came to the office one afternoon and inquired when all the special men would be in. He was told he could see them in the morning. When the morning came he was there. After the roll was called the Superintendent said: “ Now, Johnny, the men are all here if you want to speak to them.”

He got up from the comer in which he was sitting, and wringing out his cap with his two hands proceeded to address them in a faltering and abashed manner: “Well, you see, I’ve concluded to square it You’ve been pretty rough on me for some time, and I’ve got a sister that’s got the heart disease, and she’s took it into her head that she’d live a bit longer if as how I’d do the right thing, and I told her I’d make a fry of it; and if you men’ll gimme a hand, why, I don’t mind making it a g#. I don’t want to git ‘ the cholera’ no more, and if the gal’ll live a bit longer on my account I am willin’.” All the men went up and shook hands with him, and it was agreed that he shouldn’t have “the cholera” unless he broke through his resolution. About a year after that, in the dead of a severe winter, the Superintendent was coming through Crosby street into Bleeker, and he met Johnny Maas. The fellow was dressed in a thin bombazine coat He was coliarless, and his feet were out, and he looked hungry, pinched and wretched. “I’m glad you’ve kept your word, Johnny. But it’s going pretty hard with you, I suppose, to be honest?” “ Awful hard, sir,” said Johnny; “ but I told her I would, and I did.” “ That’s right. Don’t you go back on your word. Stick it out You’ll have better times by and by.” “ Doa’t you see that bank over there?’ said the young man, pointing to the marble building in Bleeker street. “ Well, there ain’t money enough in that place to make me go back. I’d rather go cold and hungry and not be hunted—so I would.” Tfhe next summer one of the Long Branch hotel proprietors sent up to the Superintendent for a man to keep an eye on the thieves that hang around a watering-place. “I can get you a man,” said the Superintendent, thinking of Johnny, “but I’m bound to tell yon he’s been a thief.” “Then I don’t want him.” Then the Superintendent told the story I have told, only he told it better. “ Send him down,” said the landlord. “A chap that will do that ought to be helped.” It was twenty-five dollars a week to Johnny, and it made a man of him. During that.season there wasn’t a robbery committed at the Branch. Johnny stationed himself at the railroad depot, and when he saw a former pal he warned him off. “ It’s no use,” he would say; “ I don’t want to pipe none o’ you boys, and I ain’t goin’ to do it if you stay away. If you come here it will be awful rough on both of us.” And to their credit, it ought to fee said, they always went back. If I had been in the sentimental or the moral way there is one tiling I should have done. Do you know what that is ? I should like to have known that sister that had the heart disease. One other thing: I’d like to give yon the name of that Superintendent, but I’d Lave to ask him first, and that’s impossl hie. _ ' Postmaster Burt, of Boston, ha* withdrawn his objections to the postal cards criticising his management which were sent out* by a Boston publishing-house, but tells the firm that the cards were “all mixed up” by the clerks and they must send sew ones at their own expense.