Pierre weekly free press. (Pierre, S.D.) 1889-19??, 1913-08-07
Little Stories
from the
Underworld
REFORMATION.
BY w. !. Richardson.

Today the man, we will call him
Charles T. Roberts, for that is not has
name, is superintendent OF n Oh lne
largest wholesale grocery houses IN
Chicago. Three years ago the same
man was, in the terse terms OF the un-
derworld, a barroom beggar. HIS re-
formation was effected by n little
kind act at the hands of a bartender
in a little saloon near the lake front.
MANY of the mans business asSocl-
ates have an inkling of the lie that
he followed for several years. But
these men never ak. More frequent
ly the men who know him today Would
not hesitate to say that he has llVeo
| always a clean moral life. But Roberts
alone knows the depths to which he
sunk the struggle to rise once
more to the plane of r~espectaplllty anu
| power.
Three years since j found the man
first in a little barroom on the north
side in Chicago. He was leaning
against the wall with a forlorn aspect
that marked him a man fallen. Traces
of former responsibility had entirely
disappeared. His face was dirty n
hands begrimed. His clothing was old
and worm, and spotted.
l watched him carefully. AT times
a steel-Iike CLINT beamed in his eyes
| that evinced power and determination
in former days. He skunk to himself,
stunning all companions. HIS face,
| bloated n pulled, was forbidding.
AS 1 watched him he noticed me and
resented my inspection. turned
away and walked down to the lower
end Of the bar. leaving my glass halt
| filled. When I turned again the man
was eagerly emptying the remainder
of the beverage. That finished he
| skunk back to the lunch counter and
helped himself to a generous feed" be-
fore the approach of the bartender
| drove him back into the corner again.
A week later l saw him in the same
| place. The proprietor told me that he
| had made tina his loafing place for
| several weeks and would be elected
| some day.. 1t would be up to him to
seek a new stand then. The newt
able happened and the man was missed
from the little saloon.
| Four months later L saw him again
in the loop. This time he was in the
Workingman's Exchange, better known
as Hinky Drinks. He was still a bum.
| Passing by there on the way to the
office, 1 saw him almost daily for sew
eral months, always The same dirty
specimen he had been at first meeting.
Then came the reformation. From
this point Mr.. Roberts takes up he
thread of narrative that winds around
| his life. Back of that important date.
he never talks.
"As dozed one evening in a bar
| room, a dream of suicide came to me.
1t seemed the only open avenue that
| would save me further disgrace. God
| knows, I had suffered enough! l arose
and wandered out onto the street. 1t
was about 9 o'clock and very cool. For
| it was then September"
my wanderings led me down to-
ward the pier on the lake front, past
the coa yards and lumber yards. The
I path was growing dark and no street
lamps shed their light. l stumbled on,
my mind on the one thought Of that
fatal plunge into the waters-then all
would have been over"
A faint %perceptible shudder grasped
the mans frame as he spoke. But he
braced himself and continued.
Ahead of me I saw a faint light
shining out from a lone window. I
made directly for the light. 1t proved
to come from a saloon. I stopped in
front of the door. In my pocket 1 had
30 cents, six nickels, given me by a
stranger. I had stopped on the street
and begged for the price of food. What
good would this money do me in the
lake, / reasoned. None, was my con-
clusion.'
II resolved to spend my last minutes
over a few glasses of beer. Once in
the saloon l called for a glass of beer.
~ ASA-S W Us - poL " H.
presence. The bartender, a middle
aged German, set down my mug Of
beer. In a few minutes he came back
again with a small plate of fresh fish.
Il looked Up i~nquiringly. You look
hungry, my man. he said as he ar
ranged the food in front of me, eat
this and be more cheerful. I ate thank
fully and ordered more beer. The bar
tender and l drifted into a CONVERSE
ton. He told me of the fight that he
was having to make a living, adding
shat he had worked at that place just
two weeks.
II took an interest in his story. In
many ways his case was similar to
mine. He told me how he had secured
his present position and how he ex-
.pected to leave as soon as he could
| get a better position. It developed that
the man had been a bookkeeper in a
mercantile establishment before the
hard times struck Chicago and forced
him out.
The more he talked the more hope
I began to see in life. My thoughts
were far away from the Contemplated
suicide. J. resolved to take another
fling at fortune, not a weak effort but
a strong manly attempt to regain re-
spectability.
When l left hat saloon 7 retraced
my footsteps to the loop. The 15 cents
that remained of my own money had
been increased by % cents that the
bartender had given me. I sought a
cheap bed in a hotel on State street
for the night. In the morning I started
out to seek work.
II was willing to do anything to get
q start. Along toward evening I saw
a banner in a restaurant window call
ing for a porter. l secured the posi-
ton. That was my start. 1 saved my
money and -bettered my appearance,
buying a good, se~rviceable suit of cloth
ing, new shoes n a hat.
From the restaurant I went to a po-
sition in a wholesale grocery house as
checker. l was soon promoted to the
office n devoted all my time to a
study of he business. For I had for
merly worked as the head of a grocery
company in this city. That was before
misfortune nd>drink drove me down
ward. Today | am superintendent Of
that house"
Vote With God.
BY Edward Markham.
What do we need to keep the nation