The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1895-03-02

from st. Pancras station, fashlOna-
bly, dressed woman, drunk, staggered
from the walk to cross the street,
stumbled, and fell just as bus was
rattling along. A man caught her
arm and pulled her aside just enough
to escape being crushed to death un
der the wheels. Although much is
doing by temperance workers this
evil is increasing. In the slums are
to be found men and women who have
fallen from highest social positions
lower than beasts.
Homes Broken Up.
One of the saddest features of the
slums is the breaking up of the home.
1t comes after the father and mother
have strained every nerve to keep to-
gether, daily tramping mile after mile
for work, rising long before day to
be on hand for odd jobs about the
wharves, or possible need of extra
porters. mo work" shuts the door
against hope, shuts in sorrows, star
vation. illness and death.
When the home is broken up, when
there is no money to pay even slum
rental, the homeless people are set
adrift. One Sunday. evening, down
by the docks at Stepney, about six
hundred men with no home, not even
twopence for lodging, stood in line
at the door of large hall. / was
assured by the Secretary of the Con-
gregational Union having charge of
this work, that fully seventy five per
cent of these men were honest, and
were not brought down SO low be-
cause of drink, but because they
could not find work. They are al
lowed to sleep in the chairs of the
hall, but their luxury is to stretch out
in the aisles or near the platforms;
of course on the bare,cold floor. Sun
day evenings they are given mug
of hot tea and chunk of bread, and
4are entertained by spseeLos scns5,
music and recitations.
Looking into their faces from the
platform, one may read many stories
of life. Some have not lost the bright
look of hope that it will all come out
right somehow; others are sad and
desperate, but grimly determined not
to give up; others are SO tired look
ing, as if trouble had done them to
death; while many seem listless, des-
pondent, despairing. resentful and
morose. The superintendent shows
me an artist, physician, teacher,
university wrangler who have had sad
tragic experiences. Among faces wan
and white may be seen features re-
fined and brows showing intellectual
power.
No home, no work, no power to do
their life work. AS they sing,
"wherea is my wandering boy to-
night?" tears steal down the faces of
several white haired men; and there's
boy in front who has evidently
washed his face in the river near by,
and combed his hair with his fingers.
He has around his neck an old hand.
kerchief for collar, only a rag of an
undershirt, and his coat over that.
When they sing the refrain softly, he
gulps back his feeling, forces back
the tears, and then fumbles at the
handkerchief and buries his face in
it, while his body shakes with his
sobbing.
The Slaves Not All Bad.
The slums are not all bad. Tlere
are lights in this darkness. The
Church Army has model homes for
those who are not too proud to be
helped up. There are many too in
dependent to be helped. They would
rather starve and die than give up
their struggle by being assisted.
Here's one who is in despair. He
has been sleeping in the streets for
months, his clothes coated with dirt,
wearing suit of encrusted diIt on
his person to keep warm, revolving in
appearance, a hardened face. What
love is necessary to bear with such
prodigals! After his bath and old
clothes given him-for he has been
brought into one of these homes-he
is taken into the parlor, SO home like,
and the mother of the home takes
him by the hand, brings him near the
fire, and with CHEEKY voice says;
MY boy, we're glad to have you come
and make your home with us; the
other boys will be glad to see you
too" These are the first kind words
he has heard for years, and no won
der the hardened fellow breaks down
and sobs like child. Soon he learns
to work and laugh and whistle. Now
he has become himself again. Other