There's the criminal, good men, politicians, women and bishops,
that you are hunting so ardently.

THE BOY

Same story, practically.

He plays on the tenement staircase--cuffed off the staircase.

He plays ball in the street--cuffed, if caught by the policeman.

He swings on the area railing, trying to exercise his stunted
muscles--cuffed again.

In burning July, with shirt and trousers on, he goes swimming in
the park fountain--caught and cuffed and handed over to "the
society."

A few months in a sort of semi-decent imprisonment, treated in a
fashion about equivalent to that endured by the sea turtle turned
over on its back in the market.

He escapes to begin the same life once more.

He tries for work.

"What do you know?"

"I don't know anything; nobody ever taught me."