The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1895-08-07
A CITY MISSION.

want help just call on Dick Clifford, . he |
said to the two men who had nursed him.
81 was fool to try that ride in the sun,
but mother is sick, and I must get back
home. I couldn't wait until night to
start
'And so you waited here three weeks to
get another start, - said one of his nurses,
whose name was Jim.
The next night Bob and Jim-Bob was
Jim s chum-stood shading their eyes with
their hands and staring down the trail.
Far away were the dim forms of a horse
and rider, headed for Tucson, the nearest
railroad town.
It was a bitterly cold night, and none
but those forced by necessity was upon
the streets. Even for a Chicago January
the weather was severe. All day the mer-
curry in the street thermometers had been
below the zero mark. AS night came on
northeast gale rushed down across the lake
and pierced with its humid cold even
through the warmest clothing. Up and
down Clark street tramped homeless men.
With their scanty rags pulled tight about
them, and with hands and wrists stuffed
as far into their pockets as they would go,
the homeless ones wandered aimlessly up
and down. Degraded and brutalized as
most of them were, there was something
pathetic about them. On, on, on, never to
stop; forced on by the police and forced on
by the cold; tempted to stand in hot
blast coming from some subterranean fur
mace and then elbowed on by the hurrying
crowd which, going home, had no thought
| for the homeless.
In this army of wanderers was man,
| tall and strong of build, but wasted and
! thin by privation and sickness. His full
L. i l..
! gauntness of his face more completely than
| his clothing hid that of his body. In his
! mouth he held short brier pipe, which,
| though empty, seemed to afford him some
! satisfaction and sense of companionship.
! Up the street he walked until he came to
the river. Then as an icy blast struck him
he turned and instinctively looked for shell
ter. On the corner was a saloon, through
| the frost covered windows of which the
brilliant lights seemed to tell of the
warmth and good cheer within. Hesitat-
1 ingly he openeI the door and entered. A
moment later he was rudely pushed out,
with the information that this is no 1odg
ing house for tramps.''
Down the street he wandered, past res
taurants where the savory odor of the cook
| ing only intensified his hunger and past
saloons which he would not enter. He was
shivering, and at last, nerved by his suf-
fering, he approached man who was wait
| ing for car.
e'Can you spare me a dime for bedf''
he said.
The man glanced at him and moved
away.
Something like a blush tinged the cheek
of the homeless one and gave it a color
which even the stinging wind could not
impart.
On down the street he went, his hands
in his pockets and his pipe clinched be-
tween his teeth. On past saloons and
lodging houses he wandered. There seemed
! to be nothing else but there was no place
| open for him. A little ahead of him bright
rays of light strea1ned from a building and
lighted the icy sidewalk. 1t had no mean
ing for him, and he did not even look up
until the sound of singing struck his ear.
Crock of ages, cleft for me,
Letme hide myself in thee.'
He heard the words, strong and full
from the lungs of men who sang Justify if
not skillfully. Looking up, he saw the
word '1dission'' above the door. On the
windows were the inscriptions, ''Knock
and it shall be opened unto you' and En-
ter thou into the kingdom of the Lord"
Timidly approaching the door, the wan
derer opened it and entered. There was
no one to put him out. Instead some men
standing by the stove made room for him
to approach. Instinctively he took his hat
pocket.
Among the men by the stove was one
who had noticed the wanderers entrance
and had since followed his movements anx-
iously and curiously. The man was in
the prime of life, and his fur lined over
coat and the sealskin cap sticking from
one pocket showed him to be prosperous.
He had been listening to the mission exer-
cises, but with the arrival of the wanderer
| they had lost all interest for him.
AS he watched the tramp by force of
habit felt in his pocket, and finding his
pipe brought it to his mouth and held it
tightly in his teeth
Then the stranger stepped behind the
homeless one, and being over him said
quietly, ''Bob Graham
The tramp started to his feet and looked
anxiously in the eyes of the stranger. Then
he shook his head slowly and said, 6 You We
got the best of me-
fDon't you remember Dick Gifford?'
asked the stranger. Still Graham's head
shook slowly while he seemed to be max
ing an effort to bring his whole life before
him. "Don t you remember Dick Clifford, -
the stranger repeated, "and the ella river
and your shack where you and Jim Merri-
field took care of the stranger who had the
fever?''
Slowly the light of remembrance and
recognition dawned in Graham's eyes.
81 remember" he faltered, land you
were going to your mother. And you're
Dick Gifford''- Then he broke down.
Quietly Clifford led him to the mission.
Over to State street he hurried him and to
a restaurant, where only Chords prosper
Gus appearance secured them admission.
"And where is Jim-Jim Merrifeld?''
Clifford asked at last.
"Dead," said Graham, with a strange
quaver in his voice. eve lost our sheep
and our money and decided to try life in
civilization. We came here and looked for
work. We got it at last-shoveling coal.