“Mister, Are You There?”

A New York Sunday-school superintendent urged his teachers to bring new children with them the next Sunday, and as he walked down Sixth Avenue attempted himself to win a street boy. “Will you go to Sunday School?” he said, and in the vernacular of the street the boy said, “Nope.” The superintendent said: “We have picture papers for every boy,” and he would not come. “We have music, we have everything to make you have a good time,” and the boy steadily refused. Disappointed, the superintendent turned away and, when he had gone a short distance, he heard the patter of little feet behind him and, turning back he saw the boy. He said with an earnest, eager look: “Mister, are you there?” and the superintendent said, “Yes, I am there.” “Well,” he said, “next Sunday I’ll be there.” And he was. Sunday School papers, music, and other attractions of school were simply the first mile, the spirit of the superintendent was the second mile, and was an influence the boy could not shake off.

—J. Wilbur Chapman