The San Francisco call., 1896-03-29
Ii 10 ny Oap'
he Food and
At
Last
We
Have
1t.
This
Is
f'the
Other
Story.

on the first floor. 1t was formerly ware
house.
The walls inside are covered with sheet
iron to keep out the rats. There is an i'm
mense amount of work about this big es-
tablishment that is performed by soldiers
without pay. Twelve men are kept busy
all the time cooking and cleaning. The
bed coverings are subjected to constant
fumigation. They are hung in room
next the bathing tank and the room is
shut up and a quantity of sulphur IS
burned. The sulphur is said to kill things.
A large proportion of the applicants are
| well-disposed men who are simply "down
! on their luck"
| Many of them are thankful for u
chance to take a dip in the bathing tank.
These are the men who are sent upstairs.
The practical eye OF the officer on the
door is quick to distinguish between them.
The others-the drunks and 'tiends," the
ruck and wreck of men-are sent along
into the tin room, where the smell OF sui
| phur is sitting and the air is palpitatlng
with oaths and obscenity.
| All the other stories, it will have been
noticed, pitiful as they were are redeemed
by the triumph of virtue N the end. That
| of Captain Woods, in not being So is the
most pitiful of all. In telling his story be
did not say aword. He walked on through
the little dark passage, rolled back the
heavy door of the old warehouse and
made light.
There is still another story by En-
| sign McFee out at the army head
quarters ON Market street, where
troops of barefoot children come and
are supplied with shoes. and where,
on the books, there is a long list of the
names of women, poor, desolate and
otherwise deserted in their age, who are
constantly looked after and cared for, and
where the very wretched go daily and are
supplied with medicine and necessaries.
There is still another story down on
| Bryant street, and a very pretty one.
There is house full of children unaer the
care of Lieutenant Ella Fisher. A one
| time mansion in the one-time arlsto-
cratic quarter of San Francisco has been
turned into a "children's shelter and
presents some interesting contrasts.
With some fine old trees still standing
guard in front the big bay windows of the
mansion look out from their slight retire.
ment upon unpaved streets and surround
| ing squalor. Inside the place is alive with
little ones. Children of are dressing
| and attending the wants of children of 3.
In room somewhat removed from the
clamor there is sick child under the
especial care of the lieutenant. In another
room feeble minded japanese child sits
on the floor and sways its little body in
silence by the hour. A troop OF
healthy children are romping in the
yard. The walls of the long draw
ing-room of the old mansion are half
covered with blackboard upon which
are figures and rude drawings. In the
parlor across the hall, and standing by
piano, are banjo and a tambourine and
the red flags of the army. The dining
room is little story in itself. 1t is long
one. intended evidently for hospitable
table. One end of the room is occupied
by an immense old fireplace with big pro-
truding chimney, crane and andirons. The
floor is bare and down the length of the
room stretches a plain board table and
plain benches. Forgetting the time and
place these benches naturally fill up with
bearded knights in big top boots who
drink deeply out of long pewter mugs and
sing ribald songs and toast the barony
and mingle strange oaths.
But over the center of the table, sus-
pended from the gas fixture, is the still
stranger legend, destroying az once the
baronial idea: "Christ is the head of this
house, the unseen guest at every meal, the
silent listener to every conversation.
There are twenty mine children in the
shelter, ranging from to 10 years. Lieu
tenant Fisher. with three assistants, takes
care of them. Neither of these four receives
any. pay. -,
There are still other stories, but these
will do.
was present when General Booth first
met his congregated soldiers On this coast.
1t was at the pavilion in Oakland. The
big building was crowded beyond the
doors. When the commandant came
upon the platform with his lieutenants
there was an uproar of drums aid horns
and cheers and waving of flags that lasted
many minutes. With exhaustion, how
ever, a oeep stiffness followed, while they
waited to hear the commander speak.
With hands on the red-covered desk in
front of him, his long body leaning over it,
he addressed them like father, saying:
"My beautiful. beautiful people"
/ greatly regret what l said about Ser
geant Carson not being pretty. For it is
not true.