The free press. (Poplarville, Miss.) 1890-19??, 1896-06-04

t;nt ;f-eces of good fortune were few
and far between.
After awhile he was entirely cut off
from his old circle of acquaintance.
His clothes grew shabby and he ac-
cepted and welcomed the lowliest and
humblest positions. During this last
three months of unspeakable misery
he had read proof, set type and,
several times, earned half dollar by
walking the streets sandwiched be-
tween two large advertisements.
There was not soul in the world on
whom he had any claim, and he had
already humiliated himself by asking
for work from those who knew him in
his better days. No. he must depend
entirely upon himself and his own
meager resources. Never before had he
been in quite sucn hard luck.
For an hour or more he lay there on
the bed. Then he remembered that
he had had nothing to eat since early
that morning, SO he again descended
the long flights of dusty wooden stairs
and soon changed his last 81 bill to
get sandwich and cup of coffee.
There was no reason for returning to
the desolate room, so he wandered
aimlessly along the street, conscious
of little except his ill-luck and miser
able feelings Of heartsickness.
His reverie was undisturbed until he
heard the sound of voices, united in
singing an old Sunday-school hymn of
which he had not been reminded since
childhood.
Looking up to find the source of the
music, he saw that he was standing
before q mission, one of those chapels
that dot, with holiness and purity, the
streets of the sinful slums. He had
nothing to do, no where to go, why
should he not enter the place?
Such wretched figures, such dissi-
patsd forsaken faces as ho looked upon
when he had passed through the rude
door and taking seat near one of the
aisles. The large room was well filled
with those unfortunate men whose
home is either the streets or the Work
House. Yet they were singing as best
they could. and were-to all appear
ances-enjoying the ceremonies of the
mission.
On the platform was small cabinet
organ, before which sat q young and
slender woman. Several other women,
some in the gray gowns of charitable
organizations, were also there, help
ing the good work of those worthy
people who labor among the lower
classes. Tom Farrow could not see
the face of the girl at tho organ, but
there was something peculiarly familiar
about her pose and figure.
The music ceasing, man arose and
rreached the lesson of the evening. 1t
strange, indeed, to watch the un-
coath hearers and to note how eager
ly they listened to every word that
the speaker uttered. Here were men
thousand times more wretched than
he, Tom thought, and, signing deeply,
he put his hand over his eyes and so
listened to what was being said. His
head ached fearfully, his lips seemed
dry, and the feelings in his heart were
akin to death itself.
The speaker ended his talk, the
singing began again and finally the
pisiful congregation swarmed out into
ths street, but Tom Farrow did not
move. He was in state of semi-con-
SC BUSINESS that desired no awakening.
He felt a gentle hand laid on his
arm.
my good man." said woman's
voice, ''the service is finished and we
ars about to put out the lights"
lie tried to lift his head, but could
net. 1t was as heavy as lead. A faint
N lan came from his parched lips. The
woman at his side called for help. He
feis himself being carried out into the
ol IN air, and then seemed to sink into
a evered, troubled dream.
he was in strange place when he