"The Least I Can Do"

The old man who shuffled into Manhattan's Hook & Ladder Co. No. 3 on Christmas night did not look much like a philanthropist. His shoes were broken, his pants were frayed, he wore only winter underwear under his pea jacket. But the firemen knew him well as a man of good will and charity.

Last year James Smith, 73, porter at the New York Athletic Club at $31.55 a week, had dropped in on Christmas night on the same kind of errand. This year, from a rumpled paper bag, Smith dumped a cascade of dimes, pennies and other small change that added up to more than $300. Said he: "I'd like for you to give this to the kids at the New York Foundling Hospital."

Old James Smith, who lives meanly in a $16-a-month room, could stand some medical attention himself: his hernia bothers him a good deal, but he cannot afford a doctor ("Everything is so dear"). Then how can he afford a charity? "Oh," he explained, "that's different. I'm an old bachelor and I don't have any family, so why shouldn't I help the poor? . . . Every night I put aside whatever change I have in my pockets and save it up and when Christmas comes I take it and give it to charity. Why, it's the least I can do!"

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Unless year-end contributions to churches and charities take an unexpected spurt, said Manhattan's Golden Rule Foundation this week, U.S. giving in 1948 will stand at an alltime low--only 1% of the national income. During the depressed '30s, said the foundation (which bases its reports on income-tax deductions), contributions averaged about 5%.

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