University of South Carolina Libraries
1SSPSD BEM^-WEEKL^ . lTjlorist & sons, Publishers.! ^ g, ^amiijj gercspgcr: dor tht promotion of (he golitital, jSatial, gugriculturat, and Commercial gnteresta of the f to pU. {TEB*8iKOM?copr! mte cTOTV8ASCg' ESTABLISHED 1855. YQRKVILLE, 8. C., wippESDA'IT, DECEMBER 24, 1902. ISTO. 103. TIE REf By Kev. Charl< Author of "In His Steps," "Ro! Copyright,^>01, by Charles M. Sheldon. sVnopsis op preceding chapters. John Gordon, heir to riches, refuses a position in his father's bank and leaves home, father and sister to work *?<* nannio nf the slums. Sordid 1UI II1C pwwj/.v money getting and a life of frivolity are revolting to him. Gordon's society sweetheart, Luella Marsh, refuses to share his life at Hope House, "an oasis of refuge and strength" among tenements, saloons and vaudiville halls. They part. Gordon goes to Hope House and meets its head, Miss Grace Andrews. He decides to join the slum settlement. His friend, David Barton, a successful "yellow" journalist with a bad cough, asks him to conduct a reform page in the Dally News, edited by one Harris. Gordon considers the offer. The offer tempts Gordon, but he scores "yellow" journalism. Editor Harris overhears the conversation, but gives no sign when he joins Gordon and Barton. Harris offers Gordon $500 a month to edit a slum reform page. Barton's cough grows worse. Gordon refuses Harris' offer because he thinks Harris wants the page for .. sensational, not reform, purposes. Gordon finds that his father and Luella's ' own the worst tenements in the slums. Gordon asks his father to destroy his illegal, insanitary tenements, but is repulsed. CHAPTER IV?Continued. "I will attend to my affairs as l think best and without any meddling from any one!" "But, father, all this has nothing to do with our difference of opinion as to mv chnlce nf n career. It is simply an appeal In the name of a common humanity. Will you not do this much at least? Will you go down to Bowen street and see things for yourself?" "I will not! My agent attends to all the business." "Have you ever been there? Have you ever looked at the misery with your own eyes?" "It is none of your business!" Rufus Gordon started up in his chair and confronted his son. This time the man's cheeks had a deep red spot on them, and his fingers twitched nervously. The stoop of his shoulders, the wrinkles | about his eyes, the whole pose and attitude. revealed to John Gordon even more than during that memorable interview when his father had refused to give his sanction to his son's choice the aging of vital forces that once had seemed incapable of weakness. John Gordon clinched his hand and repressed the words that trembled on his lips. If he spoke, be knew he would say too much. After all, was he his father's judge? Yet If the property owners refused to act what redress, what hope for the future? It was a horrible commercial system that permitted. with the municipal authorities' ffnttonnn hrilfq 1 via. Nil UOIIUII Ul 1UU1UV1VU?, V.UH.. lation of ordinances that were on the statute books, but never executed, spit upon by officers and citizens alike, a mockery to all decent government. For a minute father and son faced each other silently. Then John Gordon turned and without another word went away, but as he walked down the steps of the massive stone building his heart was sore within him. "My owu father! My own father!" he repeated over and over, and tears dimmed his eyes and sobs choked his throat as he said the words. Nevertheless, with that tixity of purpose which always ignored private feelings In the face of public duty, he considered his morning task only just begun. He must sec Mr. Marsh, and he walked straightway to his office, which was near by. Mr. Marsh had just come, and when John Gordon appeared at the door of his private office he greeted his visitor heartily, saying as he motioned Gor > ntmlP' "(Jlllll tn SPP VOU. UV/Ii IV U VUUM ?- v Where have you been lately? Been on the point of dropping you a note asking you to eorne and dine. You and Luella haven't quarreled, have you? Come to thing of It, she's looked rather sober lately." Mr. Marsh was a large, handsome man of fifty-two. His manner was hearty, his whole bearing confident, with the air of one who has succeeded in every business enterprise he ever undertook. As a man of large wealth, of university training and some degree of culture, of which perhaps he was unduly conscious, he was reckoned among the solid business men of the city and was always proud to see his name used in that connection. "Luella has not told you, then?" John Gordon asked in a low tone. "Told me what?" "She refuses to marry me." "Refuses to marry you?" Mr. Marsh spoke in astonishment. ?n-hv?n-hr hnu- Is that. Gor ?? ? ? - " ? r don? You are old enough to know your own minds." "I thought so, sir," John Gordon replied almost bitterly, "but Luella thinks otherwise. She will never be my wife." "It's not so serious a break as that?" The older man spoke with great kindness and eume nearer. He was really fond of Gordon, and the unexpected news affected him deeply. "Yes, sir. To make a long story short, I asked Luella to go into Hope House as a resident with me. She refused and""Into Hope House! And you expected her to live there with you?" "I certainly asked her to. Whether I expected her to or not, I am not quite so certain." "You asked too much!" The words came sharp and incisive, and John Gordon at first shrank back as if from a blow. "You hud no right to expect a girl brought up as Luella has been tc iier; es M. She ldon. >ert Haidy's Seven Days," eh. make sick a complete change in her life as sicb a course would demand. It was uneasonable." "Perhips It was," replied John Gordon quiitly. "Nevertheless I made it, and I""You have come to ask my intercession yitb Luella? I am sorry, but I don't thhk I can ever grant it As 1 say, you demand is unreasonable. I don't ollect so much to the reform UUSHit?5>?i uu\tr uL'uru you (lSCUSS, DUl there arl extremes 1 canuet sanction. I would iever wish to see my daughter living infcucb surrounding as those of Hope Hmse." "I havi not come to ask you to make any iutecession for me, Mr. Marsh. The mattr between Lueila and myself has beeh settled by kef own refusal, and I an not going to trouble her or you by ay pleading." "Why?vby"? Mr. Matsh seemed unable taframe u sentence that fitted the occasln, and John said calmly: "What came to see you about, Mr. Marsh, is| matter connected with certain teneiint property on Boven street, in the Wterside district, near Hope House. I iave been making certain investigation there, and in the course ol them 1 thl that you own or control tenements tois. 1)1 and 97." Mr. Mart struck a bell on his desk, and wheu clerk appeared he asked him to briij a volume from the safe. When it wd brought and the clerk had gone out. bjturned over the pages until he camepti certain number. "Niuety-o and 97. That's right Fronting B<ren street and in the Waterside distil Well?" John Gorui paused a moment He had uot tkefcmotest inkling as to Mr. Marsh's prolble^action. His experience with h father had given him reason to beve that what Miss Andrews hud sg-about the Golden Buy in business Ms only too true. Beside^ if that exp^ence had not come tc him there refined the deadening fact of the tenepnts themselves, which preached potrfully of the landlord's neglect. "These teunents, Mr. Marsh, are simply a dls??e.to civilization, I <yv not like to Lieve that you know the ! real facts a)ut them, and 1 have come here tay to ask you as a man, with a map feelings and with a man's powq, to help right some of the dreadft wrongs that humanity suffers iu the buildings." Mr. Marsldld not move a muscle. There was ?t a quiver or a change of color on i face to indicate to John Gordon whqer lie was augry or Indifferent or jterested, and the first question hesked when John Gordon paused did Dt reveal to Gordon the man's feeliu. "Why dot you go to the board of health and pke a complaint?" "Will yofco with me, Mr. Marsh? But 1 don'tjo there first because you, as the owil of the property, can, if you will, ike most of these wrong conditions jht Take, for example, the double fcker, the dumbbell tenement No. S That is simply an instance of tjworst form of tenement building inxlstence. There is nothing to compe with It, not even in the cities of thflld world. The testimony of as high i authority as Jacob Riis says. 'The pamittee after looking in vain throu^ut the slums of the old world citie for something to compare the dole deckers with declared that in the setting the separateness and sacred$8 of home life were interfered wt and evils bred, physical and moral, at conduce to the corruption of theirong.' That this is true' must be e-ient, Mr. Marsh, to anyi man who i>ws the construction of; those houaef And as owner of one of, them yoi just be more or less familiar wtbtheir evils, and I plead with youto lelp remove them as far as possible.1! There as a moment of very embarrassing sence, which Mr. Marsh finally brokey saying: To brery frank with you, Gordon. i iiiusi .vwu 1 never nave seen xue propertyou describe." Nevesaw It! And you are the owner!" "The ts came into my possession just beie I went abroad five years ago. Mugent was instructed to put up tenants on the lots. The actual work w done while I was away. It certainldoes not sound very humane av ni'onliolnnoolllr a k??4 - *- 1 ~ * VI vivmioiinDOU?c, UUL lliu lUL'l IS A have ner been down to look after the propert; Davis is very prompt with his rertances, and the tenements have bi good paying investments. From t specifications and plans as lie subiied them from the contractor 1 iindeood the buildings were substantial^ind they certainly have proved Bource of steady and hundsome in?e. You say they are called dunibbe,tenements or double deckers?" John C'don sat still, looking at the man in mderroent mingled with indignatioi That a business man with ! the repuiion of Mr. Marsh could actually bguilty of such indifference and neglt was almost beyond belief. It was t until other events threw light on t subject that Gordon fully uiulerstoo the shrinking that Mr. ( Marsh hafrom contact with anjN form of huiuanegridation and misery. \ As Johitiorion remained silent Mr. Marsh utted a short laugh and said l uneasily: . i "I don'tvciider you think it very > aueer thai have never been down there. Of course I have trusted Davis Implicitly. At the same time I have of necessity been ignorant of conditions. You regard them as bud?" "Bad! They are simply beyond any description. It is useless for me to attempt it, Mr. Marsh." Gordon spoke with tremendous earnestness, for there was one word that Marsh had dropped that gave him hope. "You said it did not sound very humane to say you had never seen that property. Will you go with me and look at it? I cannot tell you the facts. If I were to give them to you as they are, I am actually afraid you would not believe me. There are thousands of business men in this city who do not know the hor: rors that are congested in and around Bowen street and Long avenue and High lane. But If you have any heart in you you cannot be unmoved by the -J A. ^ 4UT ? ~ M ^ ik/t Slgui uuwii mere. iu me mmie ui iuc suffering babies and little children I beg of you, Mr. Mursh, come with me and see with your own eyes. You lost a little child once, Mr. Marsh. I remember Luella telling me, your firstborn son. In the name of that sacred memory will you take an Interest In the dying Innocent children In your own tenements?" In his sudden appeal to this long distant but never forgotten experience John Gordon made the one plea that perhaps could have moved Phllo Marsh sufficiently to overcome his repugnance to every form of human suffering. He remained silent a moment; then, lifting his eyes to Gordon, he said gravely: "Very well, I'll go with you. When shall we go?" "I will suit my time to your convenience. I would like to have you note the conditions by day and night I can go with you any time." "Say tomorrow afternoon and night then." "Will you take dinner with Miss Andrews at Hope House?" John Gordon ventured to say. Mr. Marsh hesitated. "Why. yes, I will if it is customary." "I know Miss Andrews will welcome you. Tomorrow at 2, If that will suit you, I will meet you here, and we can Inspect the tenements, take dinner at 6 " and go out again for a look at night Thank you." i Johu Gordon spoke with quiet but deep satisfaction. He had scored an important point. How important he ' did not know, but it was a vital be- . ginning to any influence he might hope to exert over the property owners. As he started to go out Mr. Marsh spoke slowly: "About Luella ? There is no prospect of an agreement between you?" j "Not any that I can see." . "I'm sorry." The words were genu- j Oonton was touched by ^ them. f "Thank you, Mr. Marsh!" He shook hands flrrnly and went out with a tear j In his eye, but it was not the same as | that which the interview with his own ( !ather had provoked. I ; "Thank God! He seems to have a , leart, at least!" John Gordon exda lined as be went down into his Getenna again. Between 2 and 3 o'clock the next day Ar. Marsh and John Gordon were in low en street and standing in fror* of tie building on lot 91, known as the "(umbbell tenement," which, accoidiig to one famous tenement house conmssion, "is the one hopeless form oi teieineut construction. It cannot be w41 ventilated; it cannot be well light- \ ed it Is not safe in case of fire; direct ligit is only possible for the rooms at frait and rear. The middle rooms j mist borrow what light they can from | dak hallways, the shallow shafts and the rear rooms. Their air must pass though other rooms or tiny shafts, and camot but be contaminated before it reaihes them." (New York tenement conmission, 1894.) J(hn Gordon could not help noticing the shrinking manner of Mr. Marsh. Tie man seemed to be under an influence that could not be fear or even / nmnnssion. It was rather a minelinc ofdisgu8t and physical dread. . 'Shall we go In?" John Gordon said, locking at his companion curiously. 'Walt a moment," cried Marsh. "I wait to look at the street." ?he two men stood still, and the older foi the first time In his life saw a sight tbit he had never dreamed could exlstln a civilized city that was at least noalnally Christian. Ii would be Impossible to picture Boven street by means of a photograph. No skill of the photographer or irtist could reproduce the scene, and huirjn languuge Is as weak as the bruei or camera to tell the story. Tb street swarmed with children. It wis midsummer and the day Itself Was hot. but not one of the hottest of the lesson. There was not a tree or [ shru> or flower, not a bit of grass, not evenn weed to relieve the dull, sickening lok of sun smitten brick and wood und tone. In ront of every other house stood a garble box. or what had once been ? ? J ~ ?t 4-W. A# 1\AVAC1 TTT/tH/% one. rue uiujoruj ui mwi ,?V1C rottinj heaps of boards without covers, over&wing with wet stuff composed of deca.tng vegetables, the sweepings ' from the tables of the people and the litter if paper, tin cans and refuse that 1 had n>t been disturbed by Inspectors or ' garbate wagons for several weeks. ' There was not a whole piece of side- J walk aieither side of the street. Pieces of rottiig plank stood on end or lay ' partly o'er the alleys. In some cases 1 thrust davn between the decaying timbers, stl&lng above the regular level, 1 a hldeoii menace, a miserable object lesson, (it of hundreds more, of the ( mournfu fact of municipal Incompetency anl debauchery of machine politics. Mr.Marsh learned afterward that 1 more thai 1,500 suits were pending > against he city for serious injuries ' due to th defective sidewalks and that the sum Dtal of damages claimed was more thai $22,500,000. (See proceedings of rgular meeting of Chicago city ' council J;n. 8, 1900.) The children in 1 the stree were playing, quarreling, digging ir the .garbage boxes, in many Instances picking bitis c(f decayed lemons, bananas and oranjjes out of the gutter. } One group of boys was tormenting a miserable cat. Another ^roup was yelling at a police officer who bad just ordered them out of the street, where they hud been trying tobave a game of ball. Over the steps of the tenement entrances, some of them high enough to be designated "stoopi" women holding sick babies or little fcrls staggering under the load of a child two or three years younger filled up the picture of sodden, unkempt, disheveled, tired out humanity that turned tiat awful street Into a human bell, wheae no alleviating bit of cheer or relief was inserted to give one)f^y of hope foi the future. The only buildings In'front of which there were no steps were the saloons. These averaged five to a block and one on each corner. The corner saloon& with a few exception* also bad attached to them vaudeville halls, with staring lamp signs, "Free Vaudeville," hung out over the entrances. It has been said that mo living being ever successfully def crlbed Bowen street ^iStiat a person who never saw it could have even the blntest concep- , tlon of Its truth. Mr. it nrsh had never seen anything like It, a id all his reading bad never given /him any Idea whatever of the reality. He stared at It all now In a bewildered, almost frightened manner thangrasped only a part of the terrible si ;nlficance of it all Finally he turned 11 John Gordon and said with a tone q which Irritation was the dominant n >te: "Why don't some of these children go over and play In t je Hope House playgrounds instead or rolling In this awful filth? 1 understood you to say that Hope House had a playground." John Gordon looked at Mr. Marsh at first with a feeling bf indignation, which rapidly changed; to one of sadness. j?. "How many children can play in a Bpace shut In and bounded by a lot less than 50 feet wide and/ 100 feet long? It is crowded to overflowing now. Do 8 you know how many years Miss An- < drews pleaded and begged and prayed t and turned mountains bf selfish Indlf- \ ference and commercial greed to get c that little playground ?"-j t "I have no Idea. Hldn't we better j go inside now?" Mr.' Marsh replied feebly. "Let's get through with It I p krt/1 Maa 10- ntna nil i pa brifiwIKIo C\f * Liuvi uu iuco 11 wao auiou uvi nuit, vi ^ course this is unusuaUjl bad, isn't it?" t "There are fifty oth*jr streets as bad \{ or worse within two-imilea of Hope r House." o "Why don't they get new garbage j ooxes at least?" Mr. Marsh exclaimed ^ lu the same irritated manner. He had q begun by being sick at itbe-algJtoLPf the v rearful conditions. H^was now grow- .] Ing angry. b "Who do you mean by they/ Mr. tl Viarsb?" John Gordon Raid, with some r< bitterness. "The landlords? The city w brdinance makes it obligatory on the 8i and lords to furnish and keep in good 'epair garbage boxes sufficient in size j8 :o accommodate the uuinber of famlles in their tenements." hi Mr. Marsh looked at the box In front at >f his own double decker and said C; lothlnc. It was a rotten apology for what bad >uce been a small box. It bad only is bree sides and no cover. It was filled t( o overflowing, and crowning tbe beap lr f stench was a dead chicken swarming vlth maggots. It was a fair sample of f< (very other box In Boweu street, and d h Its loathsome and naked unclcanness lo itetood there In the blaze of the pitiless oi 5U* a dumb but ghastly and overwhelming witness against tbe cultured 8l indigerence of the men who are not svllllig to be their brother's keepers so rc long is they can live luxuriously on |0 their bather's needs at a distance from b< ill suffering and responsibility. w They vent into the narrow court that tv separated the rear from tbe front of hi the buildhg, and John Gordon pointed >ut the deadly nature of the construe di tlon. n( "There is to direct sunlight in any of w these roon?3 that open on the court dr ill light aul air must enter either where we dil or come in from the si< top!" \ He uttered tie word in time to pre dr i-eut Mr. Marsh from stumbling over a projection in thethupe of a raised plat- sii form built out Voni the side wall, ge jhortening the dhtance betweeu the nain walls of thCeourt. The use of at :he platform was, as he afterward th earned, to furnish \ little additional he room for hanging ott clothes, which til ivere suspended abovethe platform on th i series of rucks. The floor of the court or passageway jetween the two wings the "dumb- do )ell" was slippery with Uth of every leseription. In the semidaijcncss which h< nevailed In spite of the sun's glare 1 >utside could be seen pale^ tired wo- ci( nen with sallow, dirty facti, peering ta )ut from doorway and window. The ? mat was stifling, as not a breath blew toi u at either end of the passage, \nd the ^ >dor was overpowering. je, Mr. Marsh hesitated. \ ^ "I don't know that 1 care to gi In," \ ie said almost In a tone of fear. \ ^ "Too late to back out now. \lr. ru Marsh. Come! It will do you god. |nj Hake you more contented with yo\r ? jorae on the boulevard," John Gordoj ? mid grimly. \ do lie greeted the group of women id ey the doorway, and they returned his p? crrwtlng civilly enough, for he was Ffj kin aAnnliiM 1 n or\n/?f rvf'a Ko rl fTO I A. WLUIIIJ^ Lilo IC^UiUl nio^Livi a uaugCf HJ, authorized by the board of benlth, and g, besides all that he had already In the ^ course *f his brief study made friends ^ In the block. y, Almost ihe first step they took from 01 the doorway plunged them into dark- d< uess. Oord?n had hold of Mr. Marsh's sc arm and wat, silent until they came to d< the first fligh\ of stairs at the end of i0 the passage. \ ai "Have to be a little careful here, sir," be cautioned. "This Is an old 8i part, Joining youl part from the rear. 51 It was on the 1<X when your agent te looked over the spice, and he built up 8V to the limit and a little more. In fact, be broke six distinct ordinances in OBing up tbe space tbat ongbt to bave been left open between tbe new build* Ing and tbe old. But tbat was nothing to bim, for it added six feet to the double decker, and tbat meant twelve additional bedrooms. Have care here. Some of the stair treads are broken." Mr. Marsh uttered an ejaculation, and Gordon stopped. "I feel 111. I don't believe 1 can go on, Gordon. This is terrible. It Is past belief tbat human beings can live in such conditions." , "They don't all live, sir. Some of them die. But It's almost as bad to die in here as to live. You ought to ( see a funeral In one of these tene* , ments." "flrwi fnrhlH!" oTplfllmod Mr \foroh emphatically. "Honestly, Gordon, It i may seem absurd to you, btTt I am growing sick from the awful stench here. I doubt my ability to go on."" Gordon made no answer. After a j moment Mr. Marsh said feebly: < "All right I'll try to stand it" ] Without any reply John Gordon, still ( keeping bis hand on his companion's arm. began to go up the stairs. Under their feet they could feel the slimy \ filth that had accumulated for weeks. \ Half way up something passed them i going down. It was a little girl about eight years old carrying In her arms a < baby. In the dim light which filtered through the hall at the top of the flight J the two men could hardly make out this child of the tenements, burdened c long years before the time with a hu- c man responsibility, robbed of playground and childhood and thrust into a t tvorld of suffering and discomfort Poor f mournful creature, a woman In gravity c ind a child In years, bending your j lirty face over the gasping little sister E n your slim arms, sitting on the steps r ate into the night with the bundle that f nay actually die in your arms, and no fl me but yourself feel much grief if it a ioes. Child of the tenements, you do c lot know It but It Is a beautiful world d hat God has made. There are trees ? ind flowers and clear water and per- ? 'umed zephyrs and grass dotted with a ilootn. But oh. for you, little sister, ? vho shall reveal its beauty, who shall c liscover to you its glory, 0 child of the j enements, In the great city by the ti akes? p At the top of the stairs John Gordon a >aused a moment aDd then turned to c be left and led his companion along o a doorway opening on a corridor \ ooklug out on the airsbaft A railing v an around thi? corridor, and leaning ^ ver It were a number of persons, most- g y women, some of them holding bailee. others doing some kind of work, t )ne woman at the end of the corridor b ras preparing some dish for supper, p "he stench that rose from the court c eiow was made doubly intolerable by p le smoke from the chimneys of the tj jar tenements on the adjoining lot. ^ rhich drifted into the corridor and ^ ivept Into every doorway. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Caylor. How the little boy today?" "Poorly, sir. Will you go in and see ? Im?" Then she glanced suspiciously t Mr. Marsh and added: "But/you * an't do anything for him. Better ( ave him be." .. "This is Mr. Marsh. Mrs. Cavlor. He ? W the owner of the building. He wants ^ > see some of the rooms. We can go f \ r The woman's face lighted up Just ^ >r a second, then all died out to that ^ ull indifference which has long ago ^ at all hope of anything better farther a. "I don't care," she answered with ^ illen indifference. . John Gordon at once turned into the fll ?m, and Mr. Marsh reluctantly fol- ^ wed. There were two windows, but w >th opened on the corridor. Gordon alked across to an opening and w trned to beckon to Mr. Marsh, who cJ id stopped. er "1 want you to see a specimen of a . irk bedroom, Mr. Marsh. You don't ?ed to visit more than one. But it Is C6 orth knowing thut there are huneds more like this one." Mr. Marsh came across to Gordon's .. . th de. sa "This is more terrible than 1 ever earned." he said in a whisper. t "Nothing when you get used to it jjj r. Let's step in. There isn't much to e." They entered the room, which was ^ >solutely dark except for the light ^ at entered through the room they id Just left. Gordon felt his way un- ^ I his hand touched something, and en be said gently: "Louie, how are you today?" . "Not very well. That you, Mr. Gor- , on an "Yes. I've brought you something. flt ere. Catch on, little man." ^ "It's fine!" the thin eager voice ex- ba limed. "Don't tell mother. She'll owl UI1 ke It a way. g^( 'No, no, Louie. She won't The doc- j r will let you have It," John Gordon tul Id reassuringly, and then be was si- r at. Mr. Marsh was close by. and J th men stood still a moment ^ In the stillness a distinct rustling ^ und could be heard. It was like the stling of tissue paper or the scratchg of small mice. :. What's that?" Mr. Marsh asked. 'Wait a minute; I'll show you," Gor- jj u answered quietly. "Shut your .. es, Louis. I'm going to light a 11 Uch/' ? 3e struck the match and held it up. ^ le pale light revealed in the few ?onds that the match burned a bro ej bedstead and a ragged, filthy mat"Gs on which lay a child about ten JU'8 old. The walls of the room had ice been papered before the double 2ck^ hud been constructed so that an^ >meof it had blocked up the win- are iws hat had once opened on the rear ^ t. Tl(s paper now hung in festoons the id atrngs all over the ceiling, and y?l [r. Mafch, looking In horror at the ght. in that brief moment, not too *ief to hll one whole story of the ^ neinent liouse hell, saw countless y0v varuis of bugs and vermin crawling the over the paper. It was that that had made the uolse. The match dickered and went out There was a moment of silence, broken by Gordon, who said cheerfully: "All right Louis! Keep up good heart I'll try to get in and see you tomorrow." "Thank you, Mr. Gordon." Mr. Marsh pulled at Gordon's arm. "For God's sake, Gordon, let's get out of here. I'm growing sick. I shall faint" "Come out into the fresh air I" Gordon said ironically. They went out into the corridor, and Mr. Marsh in his eagerness to get out of the building did not even stop to reply to several of the women who had learned from Mrs. Caylor that he owned the double decker and crowded tip to complain about the garbage boxes and the drainpipes. While Gordon was talking with Mrs. Caylor^bout Louis. Mr. Marsh went down, hurried is fast as be dared through the lower court, and when John Gordon came out tie found him seated on the outer steps, leathly pale and actually sick. Gordon grimly eyed him. '"If s only 4 o'clock. We'll have time to do the other. There are some features of No. 97 that are peculiar. I tvould like to have you see them." "I cannot go, Gordon. If s out of the luestlon. I am too 111." "Let's go over to Hope House, then," fohn Gordon said gravely. Mr. Marsh, with difficulty, walked >ver to Hope House. On the way Gorlon said: "There Is an ordinance which says hat there shall be spaces between ront and rear tenements, graduated iccording to the height of the building, f the tenement Is one story high, there nust be ten feet between front and ear; If two stories, fifteen feet; If our stories, twenty-five feet, etc. Your gent deliberately Ignored this law j nd built your double decker so as to t over all the space. In doing so he y leliberately established a condition n bat permitted of no light In a dozen tedrooms like the one we went into, c lore than that he created conditions a bat breed anarchy, for if the rich and t ultured citizens of this municipality t or their own gain selfishly trample on . he laws of tbe city what can they ex- ^ ect from the poor and the desperate nd the Ignorant but hatred of all go- a lety?" e "I'm too sick to discuss It," Mr. E iarsh grouned. Gordon saw that he a ras actually sufferiug severely, and a rhen they entered Hope House he a ave hlra careful attention. 81 it was only a temporary lndlspoel- a loo. however, and after resting an e: our Mr. Marsh recovered sufficiently 0 9 sit up and expressed some mortlfl- fl atlon at the way he had behaved. ? lut his munner was very grave, and h ae experience of his visit to the buildlg was evidently making a profound w nptesslon on him. 01 To Gordon's disappointment Miss An- p rews had been called away and was d nf ni'oaont nt the ?v?nln<r mPfll. Mr. ^ [arsb was able to be at the table with a' tie residents and was a close listener al > the talk, although he said little. "Do you feel equal to a little work A lis evening, Mr. Marsh?" Gordon iked after the residents had adjourned k( > the library and had begun to scatter M >r their several duties. ai "I think so; yes," Mr. Marsh an- 111 vered. He was really ashamed of his P1 lability to endure unusual sights of d< sagreeable human suffering. P< "Then perhaps we had better visit a le of the vaudeville halls. I want you v< i see how the saloon, as a political In- S1 ltution, comes in to supplement the er )sence of home life. Perhaps It will c' jlp you to understand better, If you m ant to, why the tenement house con- w tlons are not interfered with and m hy it is to the interest of the polltl- D an that the people suffer as far as TJ idui ance will go in the matter of no Wl >mes." hs At S) o'clock, lu company with an offl- of r in citizen's clothes who was de- m iled to look after Hope House dis- ln let, Gordon and Marsh entered one of ac e vaudeville halls joining a corner loon on Bowen street. Mr. Marsh ch as unusually excited. His university th lining, his exclusive, refined culture, tri s sensitive habits, were all the exact flc posite of everything he had felt and cl( en since he entered Hope House dis- dr ct. He went in with Gordon, and ec ey took seats in the rear of the saw- ms ist covered floor in a hall that would Ca Id 200 persons. They faced a gaudily cei inted curtain, which let down in ed a' n nn\n II TUa Kn II nanl/1. f'P 1 Jill ui a oiuau oiu^u. xuc uuji ta^/iu filled up with men and boys. The Bi was heavy with the fumes of beer by d tobacco. The night was sultry, and se? the saloon bar, which was visible Be rongh the doorway opening into the cu 11, could be seen a long line of men W; d women drinking, while others lui iccl behind the line reaching their nei nds over for glasses or waiting their 188 rn to get up to the bar Itself. 188 riiree violins, a harp and a piano be- 5; n to play, and the curtain went up. to\ : that very moment In Christian C mrs all over America good women ma teeled' at clean beds by the side of of re hearted little children to repeat foi e evening prayer to the gomi God. Me it will the time speedily come when Wt tie voices shall swell the thunder of 1 ? good God's wrath against an lnsti- a 1 tlon that carries Into homeless des- an< t8 of the great cities the plague of is ath. the foul touch of lost virtue for pas 2 sake of gold? tre TO BE CONTINUED. tiai id} f It is upon the smoothest ice we ble >; the roughest path is the safest. tab ' uameo pins, Droocn styie, ior necK ?$ 1 belt ribbons are sold in sets apd see quite a fad. r" The easiest money to spend and hardest money to save Is that which fr0] 1 haven't jggt earned. bac The dMljtofVate'-'due to accidents ?3 1 injurta^^BhlghMt among persons ma 1 ffe over- anc "-4rS^^^p^|dS^^e to aMreclate - REV. JOHN LEMACKS STOKES. Something? Abont the New Pantor of Yorkvllle Station. The following sketch of the new pastor of Trinity church, who assumed the duties of the position last week, preaching his first sermon on Sunday, is from Rev. Watson B. Duncan's "Twentieth Century Sketches of the South Carolina Conference:" John Lemacks Stokes was born February 5, 1854, at "Rock Spring" plantation, the home of his maternal grandmother, eight miles from Walterboro, S. C. He is the third child of Col. Ben Jamin Stokes. His mother's maiden name was Miss Harriet K. Lemacks. He was named for his uncle, John J. Lemacks. The boyhood life of young Stokes was spent on his father's plantation, "Pine REV. JOHN LEMACKS STOKES. forest," one mile from the place of his irth. When the boy was thirteen ears old. the family moved to "Erlesdyl," near Walterboro. .Till he was thirteen years old, young .tokes was under the tuition of his unt. Miss Elizabeth A. Lemacks. At hat age he had Mr. Peter J. Malone, he gifted journalist and poet as his eacher. To these two teachers and Ir. J. M. Caldwell, who taught him for while at St. George, S. C., Is due the ducatlonal direction of his young life, lis honored aunt laid the foundation nd cultivated his love for reading. Tr. Malone. an elegant writer and exct critic, was for two years a contant inspiration to young Stokes* life nd was largely Instrumental In the icact and preclte style characteristic f Mr. Stokes even at this day. The Jther being unable to send the boy to allege, his only chance was to use all Is time In personal application to obiln that Intellectual development for hich his soul yearned. So he zealjsly applied himself for two years, ursulng to advanced stages the stules of mathematics, Latin and Greek, [e was naturally Inclined to a llterry life, so his peculiar literary tastes id abilities began early to express lemselves In the composition of verses, s the years have gone by, he has >und both recreation and delight In *eping up this literary habit. In 1885, !r. Stokes published "Eldon Drayton," I line res mis' lime DOOK m WHICH any of his early struggles have a ace. Soon after he also wrote "Claire ; Veaux," an excellent study in "Temjrance Reform." It was published as serial in the Southern Christian Ad>cate. For nearly a year, in 1883, Mr. :okes edited "The Temperance Workthe organ of the temperance soeities of this state, doing for the time ost excellent service. His connection ith the paper was severed by his reoval from Columbia. During Dr. W. , Kirkland's editorial management of ie Advocate, Mr. Stokes did editorial ork on the paper for sometime. He is been similarly employed for part the time during Dr. Jno. O. Willson's anagement of the paper. His work that capacity has been efficient and ceptable. Reared in the country, his early urch opportunities were meagre. But e Christian home in which he was ained largely made up for the de lency in cnurcn privileges, his pre)us mother regularly gave the chilen Instruction In the Bible and cathism. In October, 1871, the young in joined the church at Indian Fields imp Meeting. Mr. Stokes was linsed to preach June 6, 1874, and jointhe Conference the following Dember. He was ordained deacon by shop H. H. Kavanaugh, and elder Bishop W. M. Wightman. He has ved as follows: Junior preacher on nnettsville circuit, 1875; Sumter clrIt, 1876; Fort Mill circuit, 1877-8; ard circuit, 1879 Marlon Street, Conbia, 1880-3; Orangeburg, 1884; Benttsville Station, 1885-6; Newberry, 7-9; Bamberg and Buford's Bridge, 9-91; Spring Street, Charleston, 1892Bennettsville Station, 1896-8; Georgevn, 1899-1900; Camden, 1901-2. ;n December zi, I8<b, Mr. stokes was irrled to Miss Loretta P. Barentine, Marlboro county, S. C. They have ir children; Clare Malone, Elsie ynardie, Marion Boyd and Grace liter. n the space allotted we can give only >are outline of the interesting, happy I successful life of our friend. He an excellent preacher, a laborious jtor, diligent student, versatile wri, true friend, and, above all, a Chrisa gentleman. ' Don't be so aggressively charitaas to make beneficiaries uncomforle. * It's the girl who can't sing that ms anxious that every one should >w it. " Speaking of real estate In cities, a nt foot is often worth more than a k yard. v " Hemorrhages of lun*s or stomach y be checked by srrlajf doses of salt 1 perfect quiet. / " What the modeo^Ktrshlp naviganeeds is