Willmar tribune. [volume] (Willmar, Minn.) 1895-1931, 1895-12-24
A CITY MISSION.

want help just call on Dick Clifford" 10
said to the two mon who had nurscd him.
II was a fool to try that ride in the sun,
but mother is sick, and I must get back
homo. 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 namo was Jim.
The next night Bob and Jim-Bob was
1im's chum-stood shading their eyes with
their hands and staring down tho trail
Ear away were tho dim forms of horse
and rider, headed for Tucson, the nearest
railroad town.
1t was a bitterly cold night, and mono
but those forced by necessity was upon
the streets. Even for Chicago January
the weather was severe. All day the mer-
curry in tho street thermometers had been
below the zero mark. AS night came on a
northeast gale rushed down across the lake
and pierced with its humid cold even
through tho 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 co.
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, nevor to
stop; forced on by tho police and forced on
by the cold; tempted to stand in a hot
blast coming from some subterranean fur
mace and then elbowcd on by tho hurrying
crowd which, going homo had no thought
for the homeless.
In this army of wanderers was u man,
tall and strong of build, but wasted and
thin by privation and sickness. His full
beard, rough and uncared for, hid the
gauntness of his face moro completely than
his clothing hid that Of his body. In his
mouth he held a short brier pipe, which,
though empty, seemed to afford him some
satisfaction and sense of companionship.
UP the street no walked until he came to
the river. Then as all icy blast struck him
he turned and instinctivcly looked for shell
ter. On tho corner was q saloon, through
the frost covered windows of which the
brilliant lights seemed to tell of the
warmth and good cheer within Hesitate
lngly he openo tho door and entered A
moment later he was rudely pushed out,
with the information that "this is no lodg-
ing house for tramps''
Down the street he wandered, past res
taurants where the savory odor of tho cook
ing only intensified his hunger and past
saloons which he would not enter. Flo was
shivcring, and at last, nerved by his suf-
tering, he approached a man who was wait
ing for car
"Can you spare mo dime for q bed?'
he said
The man glanced at him and moved
away.
Something like blush tinged tho check
Of the homeless ono and gave it q color
which even tho singing wind could not
impart
On down tho street ho went, his hands
in his pockets and his pipo cinched 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 streamed from a building and
lighted tho icy sidewalk It had no mean
ing for him, and he did not even look up
until tho sound of singing struck his ear
Crock of ages cleft for me,
Let mo 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 tho
word Mission" above the door, On the
windows were the Inscriptions "Knock
and it shall be opened unto you' and CEN
ter thou into tho kingdom of the Lord"
Timidly approaching the door, tho wan
no one to put him out. Instead somo men
standing by the stove made room for him
to approach. Instinctivcly he took his hat
from his head and buried his pipo in his
pocket.
Among the mon by tho stove was ono
who had noticed tho wanderers entrance
and had since followed his movements anx-
iously and curiously. Tho man was in
tho primo of life, and his fur lined over
coat and tho scalskin cap sticking from
one pocket showed him to DO prosperous.
He bad been listening to tho mission cxer-
discs, but with the arrival of the wanderer
they had lost all interest for him.
AS no watched the tramp by forco 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 ono, 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, "You'vc
got the best Of me''
Don't you remember Dick Gifford?'
asked the stranger Still Graham's head
shook IN mi, ho %o1 >>
ing an effort to bring his whole life before
him. "Don'tyou remember Dick Clifford, -
the stranger repeated, land the ella river
and your shack where you and jim Merri-
field took care of tho stranger who had the
fever?"
Slowly the light of remembrance and
recognition dawned in Graham's eyes.
Il remember" he faltered, land yon
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 Gifford's prosper
GUS appearance secured them admission.
And where is Jim-Jim Merrifield?''
Clifford asked at last.
Dead" said Graham, with a strange
quaver in his voice. "We lost our sheep
and our money and decided to try life in
civilization. We came hero and looked for
work. We got it at last-shovoling coal.
Think OF it-Jim, a univer ity man, shov-
cling coal. But ho couldn't stand it, and
the bad air and damp killed him. It pref
ty nearly finished me, but p Graham
could say no more, but Clifford understood.
lone of the chief supporters Of the little
Clark Street mission now is q gray haired
named Graham. He's white
said one of the workers in speaking of him.
He was down on his luck once and he
amt forgot what it is to be cold and hun
cry. New York Tribune