"Among the tenements that lay within my jurisdiction when I first took up mission work on the East Side." says a New York young woman, "was one to clean out which would have called for the best efforts of the renovator of the Augean stables. And the families in this tenement were almost as hopeless as the tenement itself.
"On one occasion I felt distinctly encouraged, however, since I observed that the face of one youngster was actually clean.
"'William,' said I, 'your face is fairly clean, but how did you get such dirty hands?"
"'Washin' me face,' said William."
A woman in one of the factory towns of Massachusetts recently agreed to take charge of a little girl while her mother, a seamstress, went to another town for a day's work.
The woman with whom the child had been left endeavored to keep her contented, and among other things gave her a candy dog, with which she played happily all day.
At night the dog had disappeared, and the woman inquired whether it had been lost.
"No, it ain't lost," answered the little girl. "I kept it 'most all day, but it got so dirty that I was ashamed to look at it; so I et it."—Fenimore Martin.
"How old are you?" once asked Whistler of a London newsboy. "Seven," was the reply. Whistler insisted that he must be older than that, and turning to his friend he remarked: "I don't think he could get as dirty as that in seven years, do you?"
If dirt was trumps, what hands you would hold!—Charles Lamb.
The little boy was clad in an immaculate white suit for the lawn party, and his mother cautioned him strictly against soiling it. He was scrupulous in his obedience, but at last he approached her timidly, and said:
"Please, mother, may I sit on my pants?"
The mother catechised her young son just before the hour for the arrival of the music teacher.
"Have you washed your hands very carefully?"
"And have you washed your face thoroughly?"
"And were you particular to wash behind your ears?"
"On her side I did, mother."