Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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I am prepared to negotiate loan! on good real estate security, on rea. sonable terms. R. 0. PURD.Y, Sumter. S. C. P Bri....ng our obWrkteoi The Tine office -W wrn 0 0-4 By c;ARLfs M. SIELDON, .'U M.ef'"in is Steps,""Robert Hardy's Seven I 4 Ccpr.'CAt,1901, by1 Chiar'ls AL Shtem CHAPTER VT. t t r t wher Mrs Cayor t It rp b b wcamustood and d OaDo went back to the doorway, where Mrs. Caylor t was standing. She b was tearless and i apparently stolid. "What arrane- t inents have -been made for a service, Mrs. Caylor?" Gordon asked, and his heart was sore at the sight of the wretched mother, whose tearless atti tude touched him more than if she had shown a passion of grief, a "Mr. Randall is seelno to it," she said indifferently. e "But don you want a minister n Gordon was bewildered. He had never h faced exactly the same situation. o "I don't care. Mr. Randall" ,"You are not a Catholic? I remem- a ber you saidto me your people in New England belonged to the Baptist church. There ought to be a service of fo some kind, with a minister. Do you know one you would like to have?" S "A minister!" The woman turned on him almost fiercely. "A minister! h Mighty little use they have for such a a one as me! This is no man's parisht "But for the sake of Louie! I can get Mr. Falmouth to come down. I am so sorry' for you, Mrs. Caylor. God help you! Louie was a goodl boy." C The woman suddenly threw her d anron over her head and burst into a r rret nofw.eWeng o vion'tcy that's- h the time your heart bleeds inside." e "What's all this* racket?" cried a voice frorti the room. Gordon wheelede about and faced the man, Tommy Ran- . dali. With the instinctive forewarning i of a peculiarly sensitive and delicate t4 moral consciousness Gordon knew that ra between this man and himself there could be nothing but war from the a start But what form it would take, t) what forces the man had to draw on, a how much of a hold he had on the s wretched lives that furnished his field t) of action, John Gordon did not know. Perhaps it was as well that he did not know much about it. A full knowledge e: of even one aspect of Tommy Randall's political influence might have appalled g a more courageous and hopeful man ra than John Gordon.n The boss was a man of about forty five. Outwardly he was a short, thick set man, with a florid face and a reso- ;t: lte manner. He did not show any y signs of intemperate living, and indeed h it was his boast that he had no vices. The most noticeable characteristic of a the man was his absolute confidence in h his own influence. It was not egotism so much as a thorough, faith In the po- ~ litical security of his position. s There was one quality that John Gordon possessed, however, that made h him formidable. He was fifteen years r younger than this man.. and he had t practically no experience in that world which was the only world in existence t for Tommy Randall. But he had a faith in God that was as profound as the other man's political creed, and in his love for the people he was pre pared in acting on that creed to go any lengths that were within human possi- t bility. If Gordon was ignorant of Tom my Randall's strength, the boss was no s less ignorant of this young man's inner a sources of persistent and tireless , strength that would inevitably come to his assistan~ce in the struggle that was begining in that wretched tenement, with a childs death as witness to- the grim contest. "I have been asking Mrs. Caylor a what arrangements have been made for a funeral service.'' Gordon spoke y quietly. "'If no other minister has been engaged, I think I can get Mr. Falmouth of Nazareth church to come down." Tommy Randall walked up to John E Gordon 'and deliberately looked him v over. Gordon stood perfectly still and v never moved a muscle gs his eyes looked straight into the older man's. s "The service has all been arranged. o young man," Randall said finally. A sound of shuffling steps was heard on - the broken stairs and along the cor ridor, and two men appeared with a t coffin. "Ah! There you are, Abrams! That's a more like it. Don't try to palm cif a another one of your rotten boxes on s me or you'll hear from me. eh ? Put a it on the table." Then, as two chil- t dren came into the room at the heels of the two men who brought the cof- .I fin, Gordon was astonished to see Rahn- g dall pat them on the head kindly and say: "Now, then, lads, out of the road. c I can't stop now." The children went out off the room, S and Randall bustled in and out, order- 3 ing chairs and helping place the body I of Louie in the coffin. Gordon came un to ie table to look at the little ( face, for Louie had been partly de formed, and his face was like a baby's.. t He lookedi down at the figure and t noticedl thait one hand was clinched3 tight. Stooping a little lower, by the ~ dim light Gordon recognized his own I little gift Gien he had gone in with a 3r. MIarsh. It was a sample bottle of 1 perfumery. and the child had clung to -it in the dairkness, dying in the horrible i ys."ftc. olirii -some ~time-hfterwa-d,~1it rally cove -ed with vermin. John Gordon's tears fell on the face s he felt that here was one of God's ttle ones against whom somebody ad sinned. 'Better for a millstone to e lianged around his neck"-he seemed ) hear the words of the Son of Man than that one of these little bnes ould perish." Who was to blame? Vas it the social system? Was it the lfish wealth? Was it political dis onesty? Was it a definite individual? his child-weak, deformed, helpless id it not need the strength and beauty C a whole universe thrown about it in wing protection? Instead of that, ung like some vile thing among the tting, loathsome, crawling things of te lowest physical world, it had gone at of a world of black horrors, cling ig childishly to a bit of artificial agrance that was practically all the uch it ever knew of the abounding erfume of a flower bedecked earth. oor little soul! Will not God take im and hold him long in his bosom of finite pity? And will it be unjust if n impassable gulf yawns between im and the Dives who on earth tasted 11 the physical delights, but let the ogs lick the sores of the beggar at his ate, proud of his charity in flinging to im the crumbs of the feast? For is ot that about all that wealthy Chris mdom has so far flung at the dying ggar of the slum, after 2,000 years of urious civilization? "Now then, young man, is there any dng more?" His profound reverie' was suddenly terrupted by Randall. "The service?" "The service! I will see to that." "Is there any minister?" Gordon ked firmly, for he knew enough from -hat he had heard from-the residents know that in many cases there were religious services of any kind and a orrible haste and tumult that partook the savagery of brute nature. Tommy Randall paused before he swered, weighing somewhat careful just how far he could go. "What business is it of yours, young ow?" Gordon silently showed him his in *ector's badge. "Umph! Board of health! Does the morable body authorize you to man ;e funerals?" "It does," replied Gordon boldly. "How's that?" Randall asked sharp "The duties of tenement inspectors," ordon went on calmly, "are clearly efined in section 12, article 4. of the lations of the state board of health. at article distinctly says It shall be e duty of the inspectors, in case of ath occurring In districts under in ection, to notify the proper authori s and, if no other authorized body is charge, to arrange whatever Is nec ~sary for the welfare of the family the matter of burial, etc. I consid ,therefore, that I am acting fully ithin the limits of my authority when say I have a right to call in a minis r for the decent observance of the tes attending this death." Tommy Randall was silent a mo ient. He was preparing a speech iat would show this young man'what mistake he had made when Gordon ddenly asked, with the simplicity iat came from part ignorance of the wer the boss really had: "By what authority are you here in arge of this funeral?" Tommy Randall gasped. For the st time In years he grew pale with ge, and at first Gordon thought the an was going to strike him. "By what authority, you insolent ppy? I'll teach you by what au tority! This is my ward, I'll have u understand -my ward. do you ear?" "I hear you quite well, sir. You do t need to talk to make the dead ear" John Gordon spoke with a heart on e as he realized with a gleam of in. inctive loathing of the man his din ~lcal hold on the people. "Come out ere and say what you have to say. is not decent for us to be having all s in the room." He turned in a great heat of anger at Instantly cooled as he went out the corridor, and Randall followed Im, in spite of himself as it seemed, d the curious, gaping- crowd, mostly -omen, thronged around to see the w between Tommy Randall, the au crat of Ward 18, and the slim, pale ed, well dressed "gent" who had iddenly stepped Into the arena alone ~anst the whole political machine. "He's up against it!" chuckled an d woman. "Tommy will do him up brown," ld a young man who loafed against e broken railing of the corridor and it tobacco juice down on the heads fthe children in the cotfit below. Gordon again was the first to speak. e was not aggressive, but perfectly m and calm. "Have you any legal authority for ianaging affairs here?" he asked, and andall again made a movement hich looked like a threat of physical lolence. "I is none of your business!" The entence came out with an explosion profanity that delighted the crowd. "I am regularly appointed by the ard of health as a legal officer. Do I iderstand that you are an officer of ie city? Do you have a legal, official athority in these premises?" Gordon sked calml~p The question was so imply put that its very simplicity taggered Tommy Randall. He stared d then broke into a coarse laugh uat was echoed by the women. "Official duty be --. I run this ward. m in charge here, and :I warn you to et out and leave this business to me." "Do I understand you to threaten an ificer with violence?" Gordon asked, oking him in the eye coldly. At the ame time he took out a notebook, hile Randall eyed him in a rage that .e was trying evidently to choke down. or the first time also a trace of un asiness mingled with his astonish aent at the unexpected boldness of e young man who had thrown down se gauntlet before the boss of Ward S. He was beginning to be in doubt ncerning the young man's political ull. Nothing short of secret influ ce at the city hall could account for is atounding attitude. "I warn you," Gordon talked as he otted down something in the book and ut it back into his pocet, "that I amj dieting fully-witum my authorrty as an t ofdicer specially detailed for this duty. I understand you make no claim to being an officer of the city. I shall proceed to secure a minister and have the services properly conducted. Mrs. i Caylor is willing to have i: done. Aren't you. Mrs. Caylor?" "I don't care! Louie was a gcod boy; lie was a good boy!" she cried, throw ing her apron over her head ar.d rock ing back and forth with grcet sobs. During the talk she had been sitting by the door, apparently oblivious to everything. She now suddenly rose up and staggered into the room, throwing her arms over the coffin and shrieking aloud: "He was a good boy! Oh, God! Oh, God!" Tommy Randall turned towa:d John Gordon with a look that was simply Satanic. "If you attempt to interfere or make any unusual disturbance, M. Ran dall," Gordon said again as he had twice before, taking the initiative, "I shall report you to the authorities." The statement was so simply made, it covered so much absolute authority, that for a moment Tommy Randall stared in silence, too much astonished to say a word. Then, to Gordon's sur prise and to the bewildermen': of the crowd, the older man put out .is hand and said, with a laugh: "You're a good one! Report Tommy Randall! Give me your hand on it, c young fellow! But you have the-- Say, b wouldn't he make a team with another i one like him?" t Again the crowd laughcd coarsely, q and Gordon, without seeming to notice t the outstretched hand, turned his back d on all of them and went into the room. Randall watched him, with a snarl on ei his face that prophesied any number t of accounts for the future. Then he ii grew thoughtful, and before any one s could guess his ne~xt movement he fol lowed Gordon into the room. G Gordon had even in that brief time a: begun to soothe the distracted mother. "I'll get my friend Mr. Falmouth to come down. He will have a beautiful b service. He will"- _: "Does Mr. Randall"- ec The words were spoken with a fright ened air that Gordon saw at once had some good reason. But before he could it answer Randall said good naturedly: q "I think we had better have the min- C ister come down, Mrs. Caylor. That's ti ll right" t" "I'll arrange it," Gordon said briefly, u as if Randall were not present He did a not care to puzzle himself at present ci over the man's change of manner. n. That it was a part of his regular policy g to gain an end he knew well enough, o but he was indilferent to it His very t, indifference was so complete that the 'V boss felt again that uneasiness that had p come to him already as a nevr experi- if ence, and again that same diabolical t: hate included John Gordon in its sweep n, of future reckoning, for Tommy Randall p was beginning to feel dimly, but really, t( that for the first time in his political y career he was in the presence of a new factor. The newness of it puzzled and a enraged him. It was so unknown that I, he could not figure on it. That made it f< doubly hateful to him. a: John Gordon stayed a little longer pnd then went away. The hour filed ' for the service was 3 o'clock- As he c went out into the corridor ani groped his way down the stairs and out into the court he was plainly aware that 0' curious faces stared at him, and a little a added respect was paid him.c "The old man fell down!" muttered Pt the woman who had foretold Gordon's humiliation at the hands of the boss. "Naw he didn't:" the tobacco user ejaculated, with an oath. "Wait till c4 the old man gets in his upper cut. He fit ain't downed by no 'gent!' "A Gordon at once took a car for Naza- si reth avenue, and within an hour he " was in the Rev. Paul Falmouthi's study, d which was in the rear of Nazareth aj Aenue church. t "Glad to see you, Gordon," Fal- a mouth said as he rose arnd greeted his " visitor cordially. The minister was a a grave faced man of thirty-five. The ~ books, papers, pictures and articles of 03 interest in his study proclaimed a stu dent If not a scholar.. The man himself lC had a reserve power. How much more et than that was not apparent at first s< sight g "I'm sorry to disturb your morning, e Mr. Falmouth. I know your rule, but 0 this s a' case of death. I knew you would listen to me." 1 "Certainly; go on. I was thinking of s you just a minute ago and planning to c come down to Hope House and see b you. Of course I know what you have done. The papers"-n "Thank you, Mr. Falmouth, for your h kind letter. It did me good. I'll be glad to see you at Hope Houpe. But I know' how busy you are!" Gordon glanced at the minister's desk, which was coveredt 3rith open books, manuscripts in varn ous degrees of preparation and a mis-t cellaneous Weap of correspondenceu which told the p'articular story of a e laborious life. "I'm always busy, Gordon." Thet words were spoken with a sigh that was instantly repressed. "But for more reasons than one I wa-nt to see you and a: have a good long talk with you." h ."I'll be very glad. But this is my er rand this morning. I want you for a funeral service this afternoon." He went on rapidly to relate the brief story of Louie, without reference to Randall or any of the occurrences that had brought him into the tragedy. " "I'll go, of course." Falmouth said in- ti stantly when Gordon paused. "Shall -t we have any singing? Have you any one in Hope House?" "I had an idea as I came along up," d Gordon spoke with a little hesitation. r "If this was a funeral on Pank boule. a yard for a rich man's son and you were h called on to officiate, who would prob ably sing?"t "Why, the Nazareth Avenue quar- c. tet, I suppose. That is the arrange- J ment made with them by the church a: music committee-that I am to have C< their services whenever I conduct a b funeral. But"- c The Rev. Paul Faimouth paused. H~e II saw at once the bearing of Gordon's C] question. Gordon watched him closely, a "Why not?" the minister said. a He rose and went into an adjoining t2 room and rang a telephone bell. Gor don could hear him talking. When he E came out, he said simply: .a "The quartet will join me here at tV 2, and we will go down together. I don't think any of them have been sl down on Bowen street. But, for that fa matter, neither have L. It won't hurt n us any to see it." 0 "I don't know about that, sir. I'm if of the opinion that it will hurt you. s But isn't it about time that somebody 1] besides the people around Hope House n was hurt by what is going on there?" 13 The minister was silent. He under- E' stood fully all that Gordon implied by t his remark. When he lifted his head, a Gordon had risen to go. "Don't go, Gordon -that is, unless o you have to. Why can't we have that i talk now as well as any time?"a "We can unless you are tcoo"-g "Busy? But it can wait. There's an artcl for the HrnmileiC. Review: f ifere's anothi-~fo-t' rt-AmeiM \ fIr "Glad to see you, Gordon." an; there are two sermons, an address efore the convention of Christian cit .enship and a list of church duties bat Is never caught up with. But I uestion if any or all of it is as impor int as some of the things I want to iscuss with you." He paused, and his grave face light I up with a gleam of interest that ansformed his scholarly appearance ito something quite different. Gordon it down again. "What do you think of the church, ordon? How much Is it worth after l?" The question surprised Gordon. "I'm not a judge and don't want to a. I neglected 'my duties to the church, nd I am the last man in the world to -iticise it." Falmauth sat silent awhile. "The church in this city is not doing s duty," he said at last. "I sometimes estion how much it is really obeying hrist's commands. When I consider ie wealth and business ability and tent and culture in my own individ al church alonetl cannot hell tsking tyself how much of it is really cense ,ated to the uses of the kingdom. I do ot know six men in my own congre ation who accept the doc'u-ine of God's ,nership of property, so plainly Lught in the Bible and by Christ. 'hen I preach on the subject, my peo le listen in a half amused manner, as I were a theorist giving out ideas iat will not-work in the practical busi ass world. There are not a dozen peo le in my whole parish who give one ,nth of their income to the religious ork of the world." "How large is your church?" Gordon ked. He was growing exceedingly terested in Falmouth's monologue, )r the minister had talked on as if lone. "We have 970 names on the church >ll. There are seventy-two absentees. ver 000 resident members. There are renty-five men in the church worth -er $50,000, if their returns to the tax sessor are true. We raise for all mrch, missionary and benevolent pur ses, incliing my salary, which is ~,500, the sum of $13,000 annually. e pay a quartet choir $2,000 a year. e pay an organist $000. The flower ~mmittee paid $1,700 last year for >wers and decorations in the church. t least a dozen women in the church ent $500 apiece on floi'ers and deco tions in the church. At least a zen women in the church spent $500 piece on flowers and decorations in eir homes for reccptions and parties ad gave less than $10 apiece to city issions. This sounds like a sordid ad gossipy string of details, Gordon. ut I am reminded of an extract from ae of Starr King's essays. "'Over against ev'ery prominent al wance for a personal luxury the destial record bock ought to show me entry in favor of the cause of modness and suffering humanity. For ery guinea that goes into a theater Smuseum there ought to be some vin guinea pledged for a truth or fly. ig on some errand of mercy in a city crowded with misery as this. Then 'e have a right to our amusements. therwise we have no right to them, at are liable every moment to im achment in- the court of righteous ess and charity for our treachery to aaven and our race;' "Rather strong, eh? But not too ong when you consider that the trth is the Lord's; the gold, the silver, e time, are all his. And when I look rer my list of church members and ien read the society or business col ins, which tell of their uses of mon 7 for luxury and amusement, is it any onder that I ask, 'Where is the Chris an discipleship that gives so out of coportion to its own gratification coin ared with its duty to great causes ud social needs?' Lowell's verse aunts .me. "God bends from out the deep and says: ' gave thee of my seed to sow;^ Bringest thou me my hundredfold?' Can I look up with face aglow And answer, 'Father, here is gold?' " ','I am afraid the celestial record book 'll not 1show a very heavy deposit on 2e part of the luxury loving Chris ans of this day and generation." "Then you consider that one of the idictents against the church af' to y?" Gordon asked as Falmouth ised his head and sorrowfully gazed t a picture of the crucifixion that ung over his desk. "Yes, that andI a lack of willingness bear personal twurdens, to carry osses, to walk humbly, to apply asus' teaching to business, polities and iusements. There is a striking in nsistency between thedhurch mem ers' vows and their daily lives, espe ally in the business and money mak ig world. The Christians in our aurches are not making their money they ought, many of them, and they e not giving a tenth part as much as ey ought to help God's kingdom." "That is a sweeping charge, Mr. Fal outh. Yet you remain in the church ad continue to preach and act under iese conditions." " love the church," Falmouth spoke owly, again sinking into reverie. "My ither and his were ministers. My other is a saint if there -ever was ae, and her heart would almost break she heard what I have said today, for e believes the church is God's leaven i a sinful world. So do I, but I see Its eed of regenerative cleansing so clear that I am torn between remaining 'here I am to preach the truth from ie inside and going out to do my work part from the church as an institution. et where shall I go? There are no her institutions that are more Christ ke than thme church. The labor orders ce as selfish as the church. The or anizations that do not profess any re giou~s creed are no more hopeful places tr a man to stand than. the place wihere 1 am now. I -could lena a very quiet, easy life here if I were content to go softly in and out, preach sermons that would satisfy the intellectual or msthetic demands of my congregation and let these problems of humanity alone. But, Gordon"--he turned his face to the visitor, and the intense pas sion of the man shone through the habitual gravity and !ulture that oth erwise distinguished him-"I am, un happily, shall I say?-no, providentially -caught up in the social whirlwind of the age, and I cannot-I cannot let these Questions rest. Woe is me if I preach not a whole gospel! And in order to preach it I must go the entire length of proclaiming Christ's Golden Rule and'self denying discipleship, knowing fully that my people will grow restless under it, knowing that they are not willing to take up the cross daily in order to follow their Master. And yet there is a faithful handful. There are some who have not bowed the knee to Mammon. Perhaps more than I have known. God forgive me if I have been unjvsc or erred in my judgment of the church in this age." Gordon did not venture to break the silence that followed. When Falmouth again raised his head, he said, with a rare smile: "I envy you, Gordon. I would al most like to change places with you. You seem to be doing work that needs to be done. You are doing things. I am writing about them. Some day" He stopped abruptly and then asked: "If you were in my place, what course would you take with the mon eyed business men in this church to touch them with a sense of their re sponsibility and privilege as stewards of God's wealth?" Gordon answered instantly: "Get as many of them as possible to go down into Bowen street and see how the other half lives." Falmouth's eyes gleamed. "I doubt if they will go. I'll try it I have never been there myself. But I see your point You think the men and women of this city do not know the facts. You think a knowledge of the facts would teach them to do some thing?" "Not necessarily. But the cultured, wealthy people in our churches as a rule know absolutely nothing from per sonal knowledge of the horrors of city life. They never go outside the little circle of the respectable, comfortable and in many cases luxurious conditions into which they were born. I am con vinced that if 500 of the best business men in the churches of this city could see the things I have seen within the last two weeks, and know the facts that every resident in Hope House knows like the alphabet, the present awful wrongs would not be permitted in the city. The Christ method- was personal familiarity with sinful con ditions. He was a Saviour because he himself knew the sinner. The weak ness of the church lies in the fact that It has dropped out so largely the per sonal factor and exists too much for its own religious life In Its elaborate church services, which in so many cases have no other meanning than pride and vainglory of the partici pants. But I forget myself." Gordon smiled sadly. "I am not fit to criti else the church-I who for so many years dishonored her with lip service and formal worship." "You have as much right to criticise her as any Christian if you do it in the right spirit;" Falmouth said gently. Then he added, "Let us have a prayer together before you go. We need to ask forgiveness for many things and wisdom for everything." So the two men kneeled while the minister prayed. It was a good, strong, sturdy prayer that did John Gordon ood. There was no whining, no cant, so complaining. An honest heart plea for more strength, more toleration, more faith, more love, more patience, and Gordon, after a hearty handshake, went out and back to Hope House, where he had agreed to meet Falmouth and the singers a little before 3 o'clock. At 3 o'clock Bowen street was fully~ aware.- that something unusual wasi taking'place. A "funeral" In Bowen' street was as a rule an informal affair in which the immediate neighbors were apathetically interested. But this af air of -the deformed Louie Caylor promised unusual developments. Word bad gone around that Tommy Randall had been temporarily "downed" in a "set to" with one of the gents from Eope House, but that before the funer a was over he would be on top of the pile, so to speak, and everybody satis ed. So B3owen street poured into the cout of No. 91 and choked the narrow stairways and back yards commanding a possible view of the funeral party. When John Gordon, Falmouth and the quartet turned into the court off the street, the amazement of the dif ferent members of the choir had given way to an expression of disgust in gled with actual fear. "For pity's sake, Mr. Falmouth, where are you taking us?" excaimed the tenor, a distinguished looking mary, well known in musical circles as a growing singer at fashionable recep tions. The soprano, a young woman of some beauty, and the alto, a little older, but a woman of real strength of ex pression, drew closer together as the miscellaneous crowd of Bowen street pressed nearer and the real horror of the place- began to make itself felt. The gentleman who sang bass was with John Gordon and was looking at him with a look of intense indignation, as if he were the real cause of bringing the party into the place. "Do you wish to go back? You can if you wish," Falmouth said quietly. "No, no; but this is horrible. It is past all belief. Is It safe for the ladies? Willi they be able" "Perfectly safe, ladies," John Gordon spoke with a touch of grimness. "Peo ple are born and live and die here. Safe enough, I assure you." He led the way promptly, asking the people to give them room. How the luartet ever lived to get up that stair 2ase where Mr. Marsh nearly fainted so one can tell except themselves. The soprano said afterward that it was a miracle that any of them ever came. >ut of it alive. And her indignation at the Rev. Paul Falmnouthi was so deep that nothing but financial considera tions could induce her to sing in the Rev. almouth's church again. The corridor in Lront of Mrs. Caylor's was packed almost solid with un washed humanity, although everybody was dressed in the best garments he ossessed. Tommy Randall was on innd as general manager. He was ob sequious and even seemingly fawning o the Rev. Paul Falmoiuth. He spoke ;ood naturedly to Gordon and gave verybody the impression that the whole arrangement was of his own planning. And in fact that night when Gordon ran over all the incidents of that remarkable day he almost smiled to think that Tommy Randall had scored a triumph with Louie's funeral is the background. The quartet sat out in the corridor, a~nd, the minister stood in the doorway where he could be heard by the crowd z +t enom~rs and outside. The threI rooms were jammed with a promiscu ous mob that was packed into every aonceivable corner and left the under aker and Tommy Randall merely room enough to squeeze themselves in close up by the coffin. Gordon was assigned a place by Mrs. Caylor. Out on the roofs that commanded a view of the minister and the singers a motley rowd of children, boys, young men and old women and babies was clus tered in various degrees of more or less noisy interest, which quieted down to in intense stillness when the quartet rose to sing the first selection. The singers had evidently made up their minds to -make the best of - a very bad situation. They were tech nically skillful, and from a variety of reasons they sang with a power that probably astonished themselves. The unwonted surroundings, the very squalor and inhuman aspect of every repulsive physical thing, the staring white faces that grow up in tenement atmosphere until they become types that can be fitted on to any other tene ment house grown person, all this act ed with a definite measure of excite ment upon the quartet, and as a mat ter of fact Rev. Paul Falmouth said to imself he had never heard them sing with more expression or real feeling on any occasion. When the song ceased, a sigh went p through the rooms, and out on the roofs a movement could be heard that was like applause. Falmouth stood up and began to talk. ,e was not at all afraid or seemingly conscious of his unusual situation. He talked of eter nal life, how it -began, what It was worth, how it could be distinguished from physical life. The people understood him. Mrs. Caylor, who had sobbed' all through the singing, was perfectly quiet while Falmouth talked and afterward, when he prayed for her and for all mothers who had lost ejildren. Then the' quartet sang again. When they ended, there was unmistakable pplause from the roofs. The soprano turned red, the alto looked confused, the tenor scowled and the bass seemed uncertain whether to smile or frown. Gordon came to the rescue by risilig and helping Mrs. Caylor as she took a last look at the poor figure in the coffin. She shrieked and fung up her arms until the undertaker somewhat rough ly, but, as Gordon knew afterward, with no real intention of being so, thrust the sliding cover of the coffin up in its groove, covering the body from sight Tommy Randall took one end of the coffin, the undertaker took the other end, and the brief procession made its way unceremoniously out of the room and down to the wagon which was in waiting on Bowen street Falmouth went in and spoke a few words of comfort to the mother, who seemed, now that it was all over, to have resigned herself to her usual apd thy. When the minister came out, Gor don and the singers were grouped to gether watching the crowd disperse from the roofs and back staircases, so as to get out on the street and see the coffin loaded into the wigon. "This is horrible-horrible! Let us get out as soon as possible!" the soprano murmured. She was holding a fine scented handkerchief to her fade. The smoke from the chimneys of the house below was drifting in heavy masses up through the corridor and into the rooms of all the apartments that open ed on it as the only outlet "First time I ever heard applause at a funeral," the tenor muttered, speak ing partly to Gordon. Gordon looked at the singer quietly and simply said: "How many of the people ever heard first class music? Did you ever think there is more than one kind of hun ger?" They all went down the stairway to gether, as they had come up, Gordon as before leading the way. Going down the alto said: "But this is simply awful. How can human beings live in such places?" "They don't live," Gordon said, ex actly as he had said to Mr. Marsh. "Be are,ful of that step. The stairs are un usually clean-today. I think Mr. Ran dall is responsible for that I never saw the corridor so clean as it was today." "Clean!" the soprano gasped. "I shall never be able to wear this dress again. This is the most fearfully awful place I was ever in." Gordon did not say anything until they were all down and out of the court into Bowen street again. Then he turned to the soprano. "Would you and the rest of the quar tet be willing to come down to Hope House some time this fall and take part in a free concert in the new ball?" "I-I--don't know," the soprano look ed doubtfully at the other singers. "I think I could come," the alto said a little hesitatingly. "Don't believe I could manage. Haven't time," the tenor answered shortly. Gordon shut up like a new knife and did not say another, word until the party was back at Hope House. When they went out to get the car that went by at the next block, Falmouth said to Gordon: "Don't get discouraged. But oh, my God, what human misery, Gor don, you social settlement people al ways have to look at! It seems to me the sight would drive you mad after awhile- The utter hopelessness of it is enough to kill the heart of a giant" "God is not dead," Gordon answered. He shook hands all around and thanked Falmouth and the singers, feeling a lit tle ashamed of his curt silence at the tenor's refusal to accept his invitation. Falmouth promised to come down soon and take tea at Hope House and parted with Gordon under the Impression that the afternoon's experience had brought them some closer together. Howy little any one of us reckons on he changes that come into all our plans by the accidents of life, and yet how many great events owe their greatness to apparent trifles that,are called acci ents for want of a better name. Gordon had gone up to see David Barton that same evening. Barton had greeted him cheerfully and again as tonished him by his appearance- They iad lingered long -over their evening talk, and Gordon had interested Barton tremendously in his account of the eeting with Tommy Randall. "You scored on him," Barton chuc "I don't know. He is deep in certain irections. But I will know the secret f his hold. In fact, I think I have it ilready. He will never best me," Gor Ion answered firmly, but modestly. They sat on, postponing bedtime until e clocks struck 12. "Time to put the cough on the shelf," Barton said. He had not had aspell all :he evening, to Gordon's relief. Gordon went into his room, which sad windows commanding a view of the lower part of the city. He came back instantly and called to Barton: "Cme here! Loo1;! Isn't that a fre over near the end of Bowen street, Waterside district?" "Right you are!'' Barton exclaimed uickly. "The Moss street cars will t-ake nwithin a block,. Let's go." "DavcIayoU ougur-not to risr "Risk nothing! What's a day or two more or less! Come!" Gordon put on his hat Barton threw )n a light overcoat, though the evening was not cold, and they went down as rast as possible. As they passed out nto the Boulevard and ran over to the next corner to get the first car a ane mist svept into their faces. Be Core the car came the mist had changed to a drizzling rain and a breeze had sprung up. "You ought not to have come," Gor don said again. "Don't give me away to my cough. Let's fool it as long as possible," Bar ton said, with a grin. They left the car where it crossed Bowen street and ran down toward the place. - People were running in from all the side streets. "It's No. 91, Mr. Marsh's double decker!" Gordon panted as they drew nearer. Barton did :not answer. He was breathing painfully, but did not slack en his pace. In college he had been the prize winner for the half mile. The department had stretched a cor on across the street, but the mob dis regarded it Flames were pouring out of the -basement windows of No. 91, where the bakery was. The wind was rising. "See there!" cried Barton suddenly. He pointed to the upper story of the double decker. A child had come to the window. She held out a younger child in her arms. For a second she stood there in plain view of the crowd In the street, and then she disappeared. In another moment she came to the window again. "Look! Look!" a hundred voices called out Up through the central air shaft sixty feet above the court a tongue of flame leaped. The next in stant out of every window except the row fronting on the street with a rush and .a roar.the fire broke, rattling the glass to the ground and licking the whole structure around with hungry, greedy, long anticipated delight The child with her burden of the ounger child again appeared at one f the top windows. The crowd roared. A. wagon tore around the corner. Lad ers rattled as they were pulled out. - "They will be too late. They can't save her!" Barton groaned. The whole treet was now bright as noon. The :hild did not cry. She stood there, her mle face looking down, her arms clasp-'r. mg the little figure tighter to her body. (TO BE CONTINUED-] RAILROAD MEN'S -WATHES They Must Be Good Ones ami eg kIrly Compared an=d Inspected. A man with smoke ground into his hands and face walked into one of the downtown jewelry stores and handed over a big gold watch and a eard. The repaii man looked at the watch, -made some queer marks on the card and banded both , back. - And thev'man walked out of the store. "Didn't know you sell on the install ment plan," suggested the inquisitive loafer. "Don't,"1. was the laconic response, and then the jeweler explained. "The man is a locomotive fireman, and his watch was being compared. You see, Lt is absolutely necessary that railroad watches keep good time, 'and the mat ter of making them keep good time has been systematized. "The firemen, engineers, conductors, rear brakemen and train masters on all f the roads in this country have or ers to have their watches'-compared twice a month and Irispected every six months. On some .roads nearly .all 'Of the employees are slipposed,to go. through this same routine. "When a watch is bought by any -of these men, It must be passed upon by the jeweler who has-been appointed in spector for the road that the purchaser serves. It must be a good watch, cost ig about $35 for the works :lone, for the rattle and jolt of a train would se iously affect a cheap watch,' but it may be of any make, provided it comes op- to the standard. Stop watches, watches that tell the day of the week and such complicated novelties are barred. A lIey winder is not accepta ble, nor is a watch that has been aned from a hunting case to an open face. An open faced watch is preferred, though a good hunting case watch Is not turned down on .the ma Jority of-roads. 4After the inspector has passed fa vorably upon the watch he makes out . slip to that effect and returns the watch to the railroader, along with the Indorsing slip and a small card. On this card are a number of ruled- spaces. Twice a month the railroader brings bis watch and card to the inspector, who notes on ,the card whether .the- - watch was fast rr slow and how much, whether it has stopped or run down and whether or not he regulated it In this manner the inspector can tell just what the watch is doing and what it needs. "At the end of each six months the watch and the card are taken to the inspector, who makes a more careful exmintion of the watch, issues a new card to the railroader and sends in the old cara, to the headquarters of the road for which the man works. A duplicate of these cardseis kept in _a book by the Inspector. "The railroad watches that are most closely watched by the inspectors' are those that are carried by engineers and firemen on those locomotives that are fitted with electric headlights on ac count of the danger of their becoming magnetized. This danger is realized by engineers, and many of them leave their watches in the cab while working about the headlight" -Indianapolis News. A Mlodern Analna Mrs. ~Mateland-Henry, I wonder if ron love me as much as you used to ove me before we were married. You iever say the pretty things to me that rou did in those days. Mr. Mateland-That's because I love rou more than I did then, dear. I love ron too much now to lie to you, you' mnow.-Boston Transcript Was Economically Inclined. Wantanno-And is your friend strong the faculty .known as "saving com non sense?' Duzno-Remarkably so. When it omes to saving common sense,' he is a regular miser. I never knew him to use a particle of it in my life.-Balti more American. If you argue with a fool, he will get the best of you. Theories in the hands of a fool are always stronger than facts in the hands of a man of sense.-Atchi son Globe. Formosa is a country where a man must have a .iceense before he is al [owed to smoke opium. There is no vice which mankind car ries to such wild extremes as that (of avarice.-Swift.