The Chickasha daily express. (Chickasha, Indian Territory [Okla.]) 1899-current, 1919-10-03
BY W. Alexander INLAY :


in kindness.
1t is the breath of graciousness
upon the blighted spots in the social
fabric.
1t is a refuge of the wayward;
the redemption of the fallen.
1t is the organization that seeks by
human kindness and gentle direction
to arouse in degraded and hopeless
manhood and womanhood firm be-
lief that that something" may live
to their betterment.
The hope that has been scared is
healed; the life that has been
scorched in the melting pot of the
underworld is revived with the
1ethean balm Of better living.
"What am I?' a gutter bum asksd
the rattler Of the tambourlne, "Mere-
ly an outcast-drunken and broken"
"You are wrong" the harbinger of
salvation answered. "You are Gods
clay. You are the thing he evolved
from chaos to better and beautify
the world"
"Ha Hal" answered the outcast.
rMe better the world7 Me beautify
Il? am Of the gutter. ! am of the
filthy"
"Then you recognize the spark Of
divinity. All that you need is grip
on yourself. You can be man."
The SaIvationIst leaned forward In
the attitude Of master psychologist.
"You can be a man." he said
tensely. "You will be a man."
~ will" the gutter rat responded,
and new light shone in his eyes.
The outcast of the gutter was
warmed. He was fed. He was given
a bed and clean clothing.
In the morning he was given light
work.
The story of his ups and downs
belongs to the novelist. 1t is suffi.
cient to say here that he was re.
deemed.
The humble citizen who is worth
more than gold to his community,
steps from the porch of his modest
home. A wife with shining hair fol- I
lows him into the sunlight of morn
Ing.
His child pratt'iug in the manner
of babyhood follows him with out.
stretched arms.
In the manner of true father he
hesitates on the step. He caresses the
child. He kisses the mother.
Love and happiness are radIated
from the simple home scene. Proudly
the wife watches the erect form Of
her husband swing up the street to
his daily work.
It is the outcast.
1t is in the gray light of morning
The larks song is hushed The ruddy
poppies palpitate with the flush OF
blood.
A long dun line winds over a dun
road. There is flash of steel,
snatch of song. The mist whips from
over the fields and the line has dis.
1t is in a trench.
Puffs of white cloy above the stag
sered streak that marks the front
inc. They are shrapnel clouds.
There is lull in the noise. A lark
springs toward heaven, breaks into
song, then settles bac.
An airplane circles, Ueets another
There is a burst of flame and it falls.
The victor wheels toward home.
A thin line Of men leap from the
renches. There is no sound other
han the staccato beat of a machine
,un. Men fall in tiny heaps. A few
jerks and then--still
The stretcher bearers bring In
heir wounded. Here Is a boy-no
nore. He props himself upon one
Ebow and grins expectantly and
ameIy.
A Iassie in the bonnet Of the Sal
alton Army hands him a douahnut.
With a CLEAN of bright teeth he bites
1to II.
"Um-nm" Is his only expression.
He Is the son Of the gutter rat.
Tonight
The rumble of traffic echoes up
trough the chasm of buildings in
ne of the great cities-in all Of
lem from Buffalo to Punjab. Hawk.
s cry their wares. Women laugh Q
I'D children prattle to their elders.
There is break in the traffic. A
nall group walks to the curb and
kes its stand in the open street,
noring the shrill noises of the teem.
& city.
For a minute they kneel in prayer.
The lingering spirit hovers near.
Dove the buzz of traffic they hear
e voice of Christ ringing clear.
Even as you have done unto 9th.
s."
The shrill pitch of voices cleaves