The L'Anse sentinel. (L'Anse, L.S., Mich.) 18??-current, 1901-10-19

to-morrow's toll. Hot brain being
cooled of. Rigid muscles relaxed. Ex-
cited nerves soothed. The white hair
of the octogenarian in thin drifts
across the pillow, fresh fall OF flakes
on snow already fallen. Childhood,
with its dimpled hands thrown out on
the pillow, and with every breath TAX
ing In new store Of fun and frolic.
Third watch of the night! Gods slum-
berless eye will look. Let one great
wave of refreshing slumber roll over
the heart of the great town, submerg-
ing care and anxiety and worriment
and pain. Let the city sleep.
But, my friends, be not deceived.
There will be tonight thousands who
will not sleep at all. Go up that dark
alley, and be cautious where you
tread lest you fall over the pros
trate form of a drunkard lying on his
own doorstep. Look about you. lest
you feel the garroter's hug. Look
through the broken window pane,
and see what you can see. You say:
Nothing" Then listen. What is
it? God help us!" No footlights,
but tragedy ghastlier and mightier
than Ristori or Edwin Booth ever en-
acted No light, no fire, no bread,
no hope. Shivering in the cold, they
have had no food for "a hours. You
say: "Why don't they beg?" They
do, but they get nothing. You say:
"Why don't they deliver themselves
over to the almshouse?" All, you
would not ask that if you ever heard
the bitter cry of a man or child when
told he must go to the almshouse!
"Oh," you say, they are vicious poor,
and therefore they do not deserve our
sympathy" Are they vicious? So
much more they need your pity. The
Christian poor, God helps them.
Through their night there wrinkles
the round, merry star of hope and
through the broken window they see
the crystals of Heaven, but the
vicious poor, they are more to be
pitied. Their last light has gone out.
You excuse yourself from helping
them by saying they are so bad they
brought this trouble on themselves.
/ reply: Where l give ten prayers
for the innocent who are suffering /
will give 90 for the guilty who are
suffering.
Pass on through the alley. Open
the door. 'Oh," you say, sit is
locked" No, it is not locked. 1t has
never been locked. No burglar would
be tempted to go in there to steal
anything. The door is never locked.
Only broken chair stands against
the door. Shove it back. Go in.
Strike match. Now, look. Beastli-
ness and rags. See those glazing
eyeballs. BE careful now what you
say. Do not utter any insult, do not
utter any suspicion, if you value your
life. What is that red mark on the
wall? 1t is the mark Of a murderer's
hand! Look at those two eyes rising
up out of the darkness and out from
the straw in the corner, coming to-
ward you. and as they come near you
your lights go out Strike another
match. All, this is a babe, not like
those beautiful children presented
in baptism. This little one never
smiled; it never will smile. A flower
flung on an awfully barren beach.
o Heavenly Shepherd, fold that little
one in thy arms!
Strike another match. All, is 1t
possible that the SCARED and bruised
face of that young woman was ever
looked into by maternal tenderness?
Utter no scorn. Utter no harsh word.
No ray of hope has dawned on that
brow for many year. No ray of
hope ever will dawn on that brow.
But the light has gone out. Do not
strike another light. 1t would be a
mockery to kindle another light in
such place as that. Pass out and
pass down the street. Our cities are
full of such homes, and the worst
time the third watch of the night.
Do you know it is in this third
watch of the night that criminals do
their worst work? 1t is the crimi-
nails watch. At half-past eight
o'clock you will find them in the
drinking saloon, but toward IL
o'clock they go to their garrets, they
get out their tools, then they start
on the street. Watching on either
side for the police, they go to their
work of darkness. This is burglar,
and the false key will soon touch the
store lock. This is an incendiary,
and before morning there will be
light on the sky and cry of Fire,
fret" This is an assassin, and to-
morrow morning there will be dead
body in one of the vacant lots. Dur
ing the daytime these villains in our
cities lounge about, some asleep and
some awake, but when the third
watch of the night arrives their eye
is keen, their brain cool, their arm
strong, their foot feet to fly or pur-
sue, they are ready. Many of these
poor creatures were brought up that
way. They were born in thieves
garnet. Their childish toy was bur-
glars dark lantern. The first thing
they remember was their mother
bandaging the brow of their father,
struck by the police club. They be-
gan by robbing boys pockets, and
now they have come to dig the un-
derground passage to the cellar of
the bank and are preparing to blast
the gold vault. Just so long as there