  BIG men are not always just or generous, and many times the small boy is a sufferer at their hands. Sometimes the big man is cross because he has eaten too much dinner—the small boy will understand now how uncomfortable he feels—and as he is too big to cry he vents his ill humor, many times, on the first small boy who comes in his way. Now, you know that some people think that if you eat too much meat you will become savage, and, as this man who was unjust to the small boy was a butcher, perhaps he had eaten so much meat that he had become in part a savage. In one of the police-courts up-town, in New York, one morning, not long since, a very small boy in knickerbockers, appeared. He had a dilapidated cap in one hand and a green cotton bag in the other. Behind him came a big policeman with a grin on his face. When the boy found himself in the court-room he hesitated and looked as if he would like to retreat, but as he half-turned and saw the grin on his escort's face, he shut his lips tighter and meandered up to the desk. "Please, sir, are you the judge?" he asked, in a voice that had a queer little quiver in it. "I am, my boy; what can I do for you?" asked the Justice, as he looked wonderingly down at the mite before him. "If you please, sir, I'm Johnny Moore. I'm seven years old, and I live in One Hundred and Twenty-third street, near the avenue, and the only good place to play miggles on is in front of a lot near our house, where the ground is smooth; but a butcher on the corner," and here his voice grew steady and his cheeks flushed, "that hasn't any more right to the place than we have, keeps his wagon standing there, and this morning we were playing miggles there, and he drove us away, and took six of mine, and threw them away off over the fence into the lot, and I went to the police station, and they laughed at me, and told me to come here and tell you about it." The big policeman and the spectators began to laugh boisterously, and the complainant at the bar trembled so violently with mingled indignation and fright that the marbles in his little green bag rattled together. The Justice, however, rapped sharply on the desk, and quickly brought everybody to dead silence. "You did perfectly right, my boy," said he gravely, "to come here and tell me about it. You have as much right to your six marbles as the richest man in this city has to his bank account. If every American citizen had as much regard for their rights as you show there would be far less crime. And you, sir," he added, turning to the big policeman, who now looked as solemn as a funeral, "you go with this little man to that butcher and make him pay for those marbles, or else arrest him and bring him here." You see this boy knew that his rights had been interfered with, and he went to the one having authority to redress his wrongs. He did not throw stones or say naughty words, but in a manly, dignified way demanded his rights.—Selected. double line decoration
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