CHAPTER IV A DAY IN THE JUVENILE COURT DELINQUENT MONDAY, JUNE 10, 1901 The afternoon session of the Juvenile Court of Cook county, Illinois, begins at 2 o'clock, and at this session all cases of delinquent boys and girls are dealt with by the court. The impression left upon the mind of a visitor to the court when cases of dependent children are being passed upon is that of sobbing children, destitute, helpless, abandoned or coming from a home that, sc far as the moral atmosphere is concerned, might as well have been built on a pirate isle. The imprint is made on the brain of defiant mothers and fathers, who really do love their children, although they have failed, through ignorance, to give intelligent expression to that love, and who cannot be made to understand the justice that takes their offspring away from them. The afternoon session of the Juvenile Court-the court of delinquency-is as different from the court of dependency which sat in the same room in the morning as day is different from darkness. One accustomed to the workings of the court could tell in a moment, after glancing casually at the people in the court room, whether dependent or delinquent cases were being brought to the attention of the court. There is never so large a crowd present in the afternoon as that which listens to the proceedings of the morning session. Officers of the court, probation officers, witnesses and the parents of the children wait for Judge Tuthill to take his place on the bench. The curiosity-seekers of the morning are absent. Judge Tuthill acts at all times, in dealing with the juvenile offenders, upon the theory that "The quality of mercy is not strained." When a child is brought before him for a first offense the judge seems upon every occasion to search for the smallest point that will justify him in returning the child to his parents instead of sending him to some institution. A great deal of weeping on the part of the child, and a few tears thrown in for good measure by the older relatives, are almost sure to touch the judge's heart and to cause him to display every bit of clemency which he consistently can grant. Children are frequently brought into court a second time, and emboldened by the success of the tactics they brought to bear on the occasion of their previous visit, weep piteously and beg for judicial clemency. Tears may act as a poultice to draw Judge Tuthill's heart out in pity toward the weeping culprit once, but the poultice always fails to work on an attempt to make a second application of it. Let the same child try the crying and sobbing act upon a second appearance before him and the expression on his face will become as stern and frigid as it was previously warm and sympathetic. Judge Tuthill seldom fails correctly to read the character of the miniature men and women that come before him; he knows from ripe experience how to distinguish crocodile tears from genuine sorrow for the wrong action, and his decision in a case is never questioned, for every person who has heard the evidence in the case feels instinctively that the judge has done exactly right in his decision. As a whole, the attitude of the court towards the child is such that, perhaps for the first time in his life, the child realizes his responsibility towards the public around and about him. For the first time he realizes his responsibilities as an individual, and the trouble which terminated in the trip to the Juvenile Court becomes the mark of the turning point in his life-the cross-roads branching towards useful, manly, law-abiding citizenship. In many instances a short, enforced visit to the John Worthy school, or to another correctional institution, brings out talents which would in all probability have remained dormant during the entire life of the boy had he been permitted to run at large. This is often proved by samples exhibited in the court of work which has been done by boys sent out to the John Worthy school from the Juvenile Court. On one occasion, for instance, a spice cabinet was shown to the court with the explanation that it had been made by a boy who had been confined in the John Worthy school for only a few months. Although the boy had no knowledge of cabinet work previous to his confinement in that institution, the little cabinet shown the court was as perfect in detail and outline as if it had been designed by one old in the business. Judge Tuthill, in paroling the boy from the John Worthy school, told him kindly that a boy who could make such a cabinet ought never to allow himself to do anything but honest work. He endeavored to impress upon the boy's mind that a brain which could accomplish such a piece of work, if directed in the right channels, could make more money honestly and could enjoy more peace of mind than through any form of evil living. This illustrates the pivot upon which the entire work of the court turns. It is the constant effort of those interested in administering the Juvenile Court law to study the child at all times and to develop his natural powers and latent talents, so that it will not be necessary, when maturity is reached, for him to be dishonest because of not knowing how to do honest work. Character is of slow growth. What we are tomorrow is a natural product of evolution. It is the sum of what entered into our lives today added to that which influenced us yesterday and the day before that. There is no caste in delinquency. Over-indulgence on the part of wealthy parents may produce a character in the child in many cases infinitely worse than that which an evil, povertystricken home will develop in the child of the under-world. And when the parents come into court to try, if possible, to get their children out of the trouble in which their delinquency has landed them, rich and poor meet on an equal footing. They realize the awful sorrow that has come into their life. They realize that unless immediate steps are taken the sorrow of today is as nothing compared to what the future may have in store for them, and usually they find it impossible to solve the puzzling problem alone. They dislike to have their children taken away from them, but as a rule they are willing to have anything done which promises to check the stream at the fountain head and to control the forces of evil that seem to menace the lives of their children. Judge Hurd, in his speech before the National Congress of Mothers at Columbus, Ohio, described the following representative case of delinquency, taking his facts from the records of the Juvenile Court: "A boy had stolen some corn from a railroad car. A probation officer who had looked up the facts in the case told the court that the boy was one of several hildren. The mother was a widow who was endeavoring to support her children by going out to work, but she had been taken sick, and the boy had several times been to the railroad, where cars were standing, and stolen corn and taken it home. The mother was too feeble to cook it and they had eaten it raw. The boy did not deny it. He admitted it all and stood there before the judge quite unconscious that he had done anything wrong. A young lawyer who had been in the State Senate, and who, according to my recollection, had voted for the law, was attracted by the novelty of the proceedings, and arose and made an impassioned appeal to the court in behalf of the boy, contending that he ought not to be punished for what he had done, and that he was not a criminal though his case came within the letter of the criminal law. The judge replied: "This is the kind of case this law was made for. I do not have to regard this boy as a criminal. Nevertheless I must do something for him. He must not be allowed to go on stealing, whatever may be the necessities of the case, or he will soon become a veritable thief, What do you suggest I shall do with him? The law says I may put him in the hands of a probation officer, and I am authorized to appoint any one probation officer whom I please.' "'Appoint me,' was the reply. 'I will take him. I will guarantee that he will not steal any more.' "I have not followed up the case, and cannot tell you what has become of the boy, but you can see what the judge meant and what the lawyer meant, and how easy it was to remove from the boy the necessity to steal, and how helpful a kind friend might be to him and to his poor mother." The following cases also came up before the Juvenile Court one afternoon not long ago: Two little Arabian boys who had been in the John Worthy school applied to the judge to be paroled. They were fourteen and eleven years of age and had been in the school only one week. Touched by their misery, Miss Olive L. Phelps, teacher at the school, wrote a letter to Judge Tuthill which secured their release. It seems they had been sent to the John Worthy school for stealing kindling-wood from freight cars. They had been caught in the act by a railroad detective, and really things looked very bad for them. Miss Phelps, however, discovered that the boys were entirely ignorant of our customs. According to Arabian customs they thought it right to steal for their father and mother. "The older boy says he is the sole support of his parents," she wrote. "He burst into tears, crying, 'Oh, I cannot stay here; what will my poor father do without me?' They admit the school is as good as home, but grieve constantly over their condition." Mrs. Sara Franklin was appointed probation officer as a precaution that their ignorance of American customs shall not again involve them with the law. |