The electric cars went clanging to and fro, the streets were full of shoppers with bundles and bunches of holly, and all the sights and sounds were pregnant with the message of the joyous time.  People were full of the holiday spirit.  The papers were going fast, and the little colored boy’s pockets were filling with the desired coins.  It would have been all right with Jimmy if the policeman hadn’t come up on him just as he was about to toss the “bones,” and when Blinky Scott had him “faded” to the amount of five hard-earned pennies.

Well, they were trying to suppress youthful gambling in New York, and the officer had to do his duty.  The others scuttled away, but Jimmy was so absorbed in the game that he didn’t see the “cop” until he was right on him, so he was “pinched.”  He blubbered a little and wiped his grimy face with his grimier sleeve until it was one long, brown smear.  You know this was Jimmy’s first time.

The big blue-coat looked a little bit ashamed as he marched him down the street, followed at a distance by a few hooting boys.  Some of the holiday shoppers turned to look at them as they passed and murmured, “Poor little chap; I wonder what he’s been up to now.”  Others said sarcastically, “It seems strange that ‘copper’ didn’t call for help.”  A few of his brother officers grinned at him as he passed, and he blushed, but the dignity of the law must be upheld and the crime of gambling among the newsboys was a growing evil.

Yes, the dignity of the law must be upheld, and though Jimmy was only a small boy, it would be well to make an example of him.  So his name and age were put down on the blotter, and over against them the offence with which he was charged.  Then he was locked up to await trial the next morning.

“It’s shameful,” the bearded sergeant said, “how the kids are carryin’ on these days.  People are feelin’ pretty generous, an’ they’ll toss ‘em a nickel er a dime fur their paper an’ tell ’em to keep the change fur Christmas, an’ foist thing you know the little beggars are shootin’ craps er pitchin’ pennies.  We’ve got to make an example of some of ’em.”

’Liza Ann Lewis was tearing through her work that day to get home and do her Christmas shopping, and she was singing as she worked some such old song as she used to sing in the good old days back home.  She reached her room late and tired, but happy.  Visions of a “wakening up” time for her and Jimmy were in her mind.  But Jimmy wasn’t there.

“I wunner whah that little scamp is,” she said, smiling; “I tol’ him to hu’y home, but I reckon he’s stayin’ out latah wid de evenin’ papahs so’s to bring home mo’ money.”

Hour after hour passed and he did not come; then she grew alarmed.  At two o’clock in the morning she could stand it no longer and she went over and awakened Blinky Scott, much to that young gentleman’s disgust, who couldn’t see why any woman need make such a fuss about a kid.  He told her laconically that “Chimmie was pinched fur t’rowin’ de bones.”